Slight Detour: Wednesday Blend

One of the gorgeous scenes I enjoyed yesterday while mowing the entire yard.

It took a few hours, but, for the most part, it was a very pleasant mowing session.

One reason I call it "pleasant" is that by the time I reached the front yard on the mower, the county workers had applied dust abatement to the road.

How glorious!

Amazing what no dust clouds will do for one's time on the mower.

I didn't even have to take a bath when I finished.

Plus, with no dust coming from the road, the views on a pleasant Tuesday afternoon were breath-taking.

Another pleasant moment this morning came when I saw that the first columbine bud had blossomed.

Having lost about half of my columbine, which was growing all over the place, I'll appreciate each gorgeous purple or pastel or yellow blossom all the more this year.

I hope to transplant some of the volunteers and get the numbers up again next year.

History came in the mail yesterday.

Paula Fredlund sent me a note the other day asking for my mailing address.

"We're (Paula and husband Dean) sending you something, and there will be a note in the package," she told me.

That stimulated my curiosity.

Well, the "something" came yesterday in the form of the book above, autographed by Paul Croy.

In her note, Paula told me they had lived in local poet and educator Paul Croy's cabin at Hope during the first year of their marriage.

Dean taught biology at Sandpoint High School, while Paula taught at Southside School. The couple have lived in Salmon Arm, British Columbia for the last few decades.

Paula wondered in the note if I knew Paul Croy.

I was able to tell her this morning that I had worked as his office aide while attending Sandpoint High.

Much of my work for Mr. Croy, who was the boys' counselor at the time, involved working at the mimeograph machine and printing off pages of the school's creative writing magazine.

It was called "Timberline," and Mr. Croy was the adviser.

Paula described some memories of the cabin on the Croy place and wondered about its present situation.

I'm still gathering information, but I'm pretty sure that two of my students, now retired educators, live on the Croy property.

As I thumbed through Old Blazes, which is in mint condition and which has been in the presence of Dean and Paula Fredlund, to whom the book was autographed, I enjoyed a sense of quiet exhilaration which often comes in moments of nostalgic familiarity.

In this case, it's kind of supreme because of the circle of people involved in this wonderful gesture from Paula and Dean.

I'm pretty sure but won't state for certain that they knew the father of one of the occupants of the Croy cabin. He also taught at Sandpoint High, and, on the side, started up a pizza parlor on Cedar Street in Sandpoint. It was called Riccardo's.

Can't wait to put the pieces together that go along with this wonderful bit of history that arrived in the mail.

Thanks so much, Paula and Dean. You are such gracious friends, and your gesture is much appreciated.

I will treasure the gift, and I know Bill will too because of the subjects of some of its contents---fishing and the old-time forest industry.

Yesterday netted the first real harvest for the 2024 growing season. Looks like my asparagus crop will be plentiful this year.

And, while mowing last evening, I noticed a little splotch of pink on a plum tree that has not produced even one blossom in the eighteen years we've lived here.

Twasn't the most prolific of blossoms, but it was there, and in a year when the other plum trees are devoid of blossoms, I wonder, "How did that happen?"

We'll see if it continues to strive toward full-fledged plumhood.

Blueberries could be plentiful as usual this year, and, in honor of the bushes and this week's upcoming Lost in the '50s celebration, I provided a classic from '50s rock this morning.