Zapped by an Electric Fence

Once upon a time and long ago, my children, Diane age 13 and Jeremy age 10 and I bought acreage with a small house and a couple of barns. It was the beginning of our horse farm. The five plus acres had already been fenced with barbless wire, but with babies on the way (horses not me) I felt I needed more protection for them than just wire. Ribbon wire was the in thing back in the 70s and 80s and it was easy to install, if the foals did break through, it was safe and would not tangle around their legs like wire might. Oregon dirt is easy to dig in and not a hard job for me to put up fencing.

Back in Oregon, one sunny day, kids in school, it was perfect for putting in an electric fence paddock outside the large birthing stall. Gathering all my tools in a box and "ho ho, ho ho and off to work I go." As the day progressed, it was getting hotter and hotter, that is if Oregon hot means the same as Arizona hot. Nothing could  deter me. Onward in my mission to complete the job. I am rather one track when it comes to staying on task. Whew, finally I finished, looked out with pride at the electric corral I had completed, flipped the switch and checked it with my little plastic fence checker. Yep, it was working. 

Picking up the tools scattered about and putting them back into the tool box, I bent over to pick up the hammer and backed right into the "hot" electric fence. The bolt got me good. I jumped about a yard or two then quickly looked around to see if anyone saw me do such a stupid thing. Now I'm telling you my nearest neighbor couldn't have seen me even with binoculars. "What are you looking at?" I hurl words at my dog, panting, tongue lagging out. I swear she was laughing at me!

Photo above: Half Arab/Saddlebred, Penny and Wind Dancer her little filly.

Wind Dancer prancing away. From the day she was born, this little filly just flat out ran, pranced, jumped and raced with the wind. She absolutely loved life! Isn't she a beauty?


Photo right: Wind Dancer just a few weeks old.

Illionois Small Town Childhood Memories

Hi cousin Alan, 

I only remember Illinois as a ten year old child and maybe for three weeks with Grandma Roberts (your Aunt Mae). If it was hot, I didn't notice it. Too much fun collecting lightning bugs in a jar; riding your horse bareback down a dirt road; slipping and sliding in the back of a wagon full of oats, bugs and grasshoppers, as your Dad brought it in from the fields; watching out for the "mean" goose in your barnyard; climbing Grandma's cherry tree; and endlessly cranking the ice cream churn. Yeah, it could have been hot, but I sure didn't notice. 

My Dad came to visit us at Grandma's. He took us to a movie on the main street of Roberts. That's before they moved the water tower. Back then they hung a huge screen on it and showed a black and white movie with Bob Crosby. (Who knows why this stuck in my head!) The three of us sat on a blanket in the middle of the street to watch. Just before we settled down, Dad took us into the corner soda fountain to get a malt or a shake.

I loved that it didn't get dark until after 9 or so at night. Meant our normal bedtime didn't mean anything in Illinois. Dark always came about 8 PM in CA. Even so, through our complaints that it was still light out, Grandma, at 9 PM would make my baby sister, Marilynn, and I up go upstairs to bed — where we could read for awhile. I'm a reader even today - although you don't like the books I read - i.e. "The Road", Ha Ha!. 

As I'd lie in bed reading in that glowing amber light of twilight, I'd also be waiting for the train whistle to announce the train was going through town along with the rhythmic click-clack of metal wheels against metal tracks. Such a comforting, haunting sound. 

Always one of the fondest memories in my life — that short three or so weeks with Grandma Roberts in Illinois and on your boyhood farm.

Love to you, cousin. So glad we reconnected.

Dawn

6/29/09  Dear Dawn,

o       They were called free movies.  The town merchants paid for them to promote Saturday night business.  That was when all the farmers came to town.  The movies were an extra incentive to be sure and come.  Nearly all the movies had a serial with them.  Tess was bound and laid on the tracks and the train was bearing down on her  -  and then the reel stopped!  You had to return next week to find what happened.  Nearly every small town had 'free movies'.  There was always a popcorn stand.  The one who ran it may have been practising his only source of income during the summer.  It was a time looked forward to by all the youngsters; more so for the commaradie than the movie.  The girls hung with the girls and the boys with the boys.  But they purposely crossed paths to tease and caterwaul each other.  Besides you didn't want to miss, you might catch sight of that pretty/handsom girl/boy that you had your eye on.  You are right, every one brought a blanket to lay down on the street.  And they were shared, you didn't necessarily sit on your own families.  Wonderful times; we'll not see them again - -

o        I have no idea why you remember Bob Crosby - - -

o        You memtion the water tower, did you know that Ralph Bradbury (a cousin of yours, about third) took a dare he could not fly his Piper Cub down main street because the tower was there.  He flew it and managed to raise the plane fast enough not to hit the tower.  You can agree to some weird things while sitting in a tavern.    

o        You are right again, it does get hot in Illinois.  Jane and I often slept on the grass as it was cool and a breeze often helped.  Then Dad built a screened in porch and we slept there.  That reduced our time of scratching mosquito bites considerably.  But I don't ever remember it being too hot to work or play.  

o        I'm glad you remember the farm.  I do too, and your reminiscence caused me to recall fond memories - Thank you, Dawn.  

o       The work you had done at the Robert's grave site is beautiful.  All of my sisters and I marveled over it.  You and Marilynn are to be complimented and praised.  Future generations will be proud to see their forefathers so well remembered.    Love, Alan       

Comments:

·      1) 6/29   Thanks for including me in the e-mail list, I enjoyed it.    Jim Sinsley

·      2) 6/29 Dawn -- you make childhood sound so appealing.  I remember lightning bugs --- something we didn't have in California.  Carolyn Lawson

      

·      3) 6/29    Dawn - What a charming and well written email - It truely is an ode to youth and fun and summer and great childhood memories! Well written too! Looking forward to seeing you on Thursday night! Lots of love – Michelle Milash

·      4) 6/29  Dawn,

o       I drove with Justin to Indiana last week. He got a job working for the Madison County surveying office. Justin's girl friend lives in Indianapolis. We drove really hard. Long distances everyday. I told him from the beginning that we were going to drive through Roberts. We drove past Dad's old house and through "downtown." I was tempted to stop at the Roberts Bar and Grill, but we were still pressed for time (at lease Justin thought we were pressed). We knew exactly where the cemetery was located. He had looked it up on Google maps. My mom gave me general directions to the Roberts grave site, but then lefts were confused with rights. The first familiar name I saw was Uncle Louie. He died in 1982 at the age of 99. Barbara and I met him the previous year when we did a cross country tour with Mom and Dad. Then Justin and I just strolled the rows until we found ROBERTS. Seeing Grandma Roberts' name, Uncle George, Aunt Elsie and Dad's head stone really got me choked up. 

o       I just wanted to tell you what a great job you did with the head stone. It was perfect. I had tried to make connections with people back there the year after Dad died. It just didn't seem to work. I think you had to be there to get the job done. You did it and did a fantastic job. I wish that I would have had some of Dad's ashes to bury there. There will be another time. We cleaned up all the Roberts head stones and took off toward Indiana.20A huge lightning storm greeted us as we hit the highway. It was entertaining for two hours. 

o       I'm headed to San Diego to visit Mom in mid July. Her vision is getting really weak. It will be great to visit her at the "institute." Thanks again sis, Brother Tommy

·      5) 6/30/09  Dawn, You bring back wonderful memories, and they are expressed in a captive, comforting story.  If I had your creative flow and were to write about my childhood, I would choose to relate it exactly like you have! This is really special. Thanks, cousin Dianne Wissmiller

The Sense of Us

The Sense of Us                              in Manitowish Waters, Wisconsin

Dawn Janov with her sister, Marilynn Roberts on their sister trip                                 June 10, 2006

 

Soft as a kiss for a newborn.

Quiet as a fawn that is hiding.

Comfort in a sweater well worn.

Here is a place for the finding.

Sharp as a twig that is broken.

Beauty in all that you see.

For others a place that will open

Doors to a deep inner peace.

Listen to the lap of the lake

Partnered with the chirp of a bird.

What a great way to wake

Without ever hearing a word.

Thanks to you, John and Barbara McFarland.

It is a perfect plan.

The neat, restful, darlin’

The cabin of the "Otter Clan!"

Ukulele Memories

I was nineteen on the beach at Waikiki listening to a group playing ukuleles. Trade winds ruffling my hair, warm sand between my toes, when all of a sudden this beach boy shoved a ukulele in my hands and said, "Try playing with us."

So watching my new teacher, I learned chords and strums. When I returned home, the first thing I did was buy a Martin ukulele. Sad story, about a year later it was stolen. I went on to play a tenor and eventually a Gibson guitar, but never was it the fun or the wonderful sound of the lost ukulele.

Although I've been back to Hawaii many times with my family and for work, I've never been tempted to buy another ukulele.


Now that I'm old, I'm looking forward to my first love again, the ukulele. This time I wanted the best and a wonderful piece of history, the Kamaka Pineapple Ukulele. Thanks to Chrissie and Tekla at the Kamaka factory for helping me chose the right ukulele. It's being made right now by caring dedicated people. In a few short weeks my house will soar with music once more.


Here I am in a Colorado winter growing older, but I'll always be young in those places of my memories. I can still close my eyes and conjure up the places I saw through my eyes, the sounds and smells around me, and best of all, what I felt in that summer of 1958. My mind's eye is such a happy place to visit.

Hmm, makes me think about my resolution to only live in the now. Trying to enjoy the now is something I struggle with every day. Perhaps there is room for everything, the past experiences, the "right now", and a dream of where I want to be tomorrow. So for now, I'm spending some time in my memories. See you later. Aloha and Mahalo for reading my blog.

Happy New Year 2010!

The full Blue Moon climbs over the mountain top The fierce wind is blowing all the overcast clouds away clearing the path for the moon. The Ponderosa pines are swaying in a twisted dance to the siren song of the wind. The naked Aspens laugh at the fray.

The only one not enjoying the night is my Chihuahua, Luc. All he wanted to do is sniff the yard and choose a pot to pee, but the mischievous wind blew him a treat that scares him so bad he was jumping in 180 degree turns. He takes a look at the open door and makes a run o fast you can not see his legs.

Come on 2010. We are ready for you and the adventures you'll bring! Happy New Year's Eve.

Ah, It's Wintertime in the Mountains

     It's snowing here and the temperature is 3 degrees. I'm inside and the temperature is trying to stay at 66 degrees. Luc is snuggling close by my side in the chair to keep warm. He wears his red plaid fleece coat, runs outside, does his stuff and hobbles back sometime when he stays to long and his paws hurt.  "Gives Luc a concerned look"

     What? I'm still talking about loving winter? Yep! Don't know why? It is so beautiful. Sort of like coming out of a sauna and hitting a cold shower. Invigorating as long as you don't have to stay outside in it too long.

     Since I haven't traveled anywhere since my "sister trip" several years ago, I'm feeling old and comfortable. I'd love to visit Alice in San Diego, my son in  Corona and Disneyland again, my sis in Martinez with Peitr, another look at Lake Superior in Little Girl's Point and Bayfield, a trip to my Dad's gravesite in Roberts, Il with my cousins there, make a long trip through the South, spend time in New England, especially Maine... 
     Ah, dreams. Most of all, I'll love to spend months in Northern Italy and Southern France. 

     Maybe I'll just think of all my old memories in places I have visited and people I love, then dream what it might be like for places that I haven't. 
     So for this Holiday Season, I'll enjoy my decorating my home, my daughter and her family, my friends and relatives everywhere and most of all Luc, my long haired Chihuahua.

With a Boo and a Hiss!

Only one more weekend of villains and heroes and laughter! Since 1981, the Mill Creek Valley Players have raised money to restore historic buildings, one boo, hiss and cheer at a time. If you’re looking for an evening of absolute entertainment, read on.

You might be surprised how many good actors, writers, and musicians live and work in Clear Creek County and you’ll find them in unusual places. Bert Weaver has volunteered his time for thirteen melodramas. You’ll find him at work as the Clear Creek County Planner. Ed Rapp, former Clear Creek County Commissioner, has been in five plays. Bruce Bell created the Java Mountain Roasters in Idaho Springs and taught in the Rock House School. Carolyn Gingrich is a substitute postmaster.

So many more:  a counselor from Denver, a cook for the Sheriff’s Office, a truck driver, a llama breeder, a junior high student, a recent graduate, all volunteers.

There is more history lurking in the audience. Joanne Sorenson, another former County Commissioner, sits with her husband Tom. Brenda Gorman, an honored guest, glances at a photo of her late husband Skipper that sits on top of the piano nearby. Larrice Sell, president of the MCVHS, introduces her to the audience and dedicates that night’s performance to Skipper for his long time support of their efforts.

Another couple sitting in the front row, is Buff Rutherford, a third generation Georgetown resident with his wife Mary Lou who came out as a teenager with her family from Chicago and met her cowboy. Her family stayed at the local boarding house at that time, the Hamill House, now a well-restored museum.

Royalty sits among the audience. Les and Arlie Clark are the crowned King and Queen of Clear Creek County’s 150 Year of Mining History.  Les Clark, “It’s only spelled with one ‘s’,” he jokes, was born and raised in Idaho Springs. Les met his wife in Northern California when he was in the Forest Service. His wife, Arlie, (she did spell it for me) was born in Las Vegas. “I think I was the 59^th baby born in the new city,” she proudly boosts. They returned a few years ago to Idaho Springs. Sitting next to them is their son, Dean Clark, who moved to Lakewood to be near his folks.

Larrice M. Sell wrote this year’s melodrama, “White Gold or We’re Going Down Hill Fast.” Before it starts, Linda Goymerac, hits the ivories on the upright piano and the sing-a-long begins getting everyone into a joyful mood. The light’s go down and the music from the Sound of Music, sets the scene. Throughout the melodrama patter, a couple of jibs at the nearby towns bring even more laughter. Lines forgotten only bring out the wild side of the actors who joke with the audience. The Inspector Dufus, master of disguise, was simply amazing as he held a sheet high and turned to the wall. The back of the sheet blended perfectly into the same patterned wallpaper and he did disappear.

 

The efforts of the dedicated people, who make up the Mill Creek Valley Historical Society, are not disappearing. They have restored the 100-year-old One Room School House in Dumont where they hold their annual melodramas.

 

In the late 1980s, they moved the Colburn Cabin onto the property as an additional piece of history. This cabin was Clear Creek County Commissioner, Joan Drury’s, great, great grandmother’s house in Lawson. The log cabin was built for Margaret Colburn between the houses of her two daughters. Colburn was somewhat of a folk doctor using herbs to help people get well. After I-70 came through, the log cabin was moved to Georgetown and now it’s back to take a place of honor next to the schoolhouse.

Next on their agenda is the restoration of Sarah Greene’s family roadhouse at the east entrance to Dumont. Just this April it was listed on the National Registry of Historic Buildings. Originally, there were two log cabins joined together. These roadhouses in the 1800s were always located out of town and by a well-traveled road. Sometime they were a full service stage-stop, offering food, rooms and drinks. Others were only bars with food, and maybe a pool table.

Ed Rapp wrapped up his feelings, “In broader terms, I’m involved in the Historical Society not because I’m a preservationist, but because I’m always a conservationist.” He explains, “I look back 7 generations and forward 7 generations and think about decisions and values so my future grandchildren will have resources to live a decent life.”

Think about helping these restoration efforts for your future grandchildren. Go and enjoy this next weekend’s performance. It’s more than a play; it’s a part of your community. Take a bow Mill Creek Valley Players. We're proud of you. Call for reservations: 303-567-4026. Tickets are also available at the door.

There are other roadhouses in Clear Creek County. Grumpy’s Roadhouse in Silver Plume was originally a garage. Inside there was a tall rectangle tabletop, over a car lift. When it began as a roadhouse, it was not only a bar, but also a meeting place to musicians of all types. Sometimes a local resident would bring a crock-pot of food to share with all who walked in the door that night. Now it is closed, and another part of history has past on. Kermit’s Roadhouse is open, operating a bar, foodservice and pool table. It still fits the definition of a roadhouse, right off I-70 and certainly not near any town.