Covid Weight Gain

by Ruby Bonham

My dog has Covid Weight Gain!  How did my slim , trim and healthy dog expand to over twenty pounds.  We will NOT discuss her owner’s weight gain.  I have heard the chatter around the park of the human weight gain but now it seems to be affecting pets too.  Just as we humans try to explain it, I have tried to reason out why Dolly now answers to the name Chubby.  DeDe (chihuahua) has remained pretty steady.  Now to Dolly.  Initially I thought it was because she grieved so hard at loosing her Daddy (Ed) or maybe it is because she just turned ten.  Could it be because we don’t walk in the rain. 

She now eats Weight Control food and I have cut down on treats.  So far she has not lost an ounce.  I now break up her treats so she is getting the same number but not sure she is buying that.  DeDe runs to claim the big dog bed and Dolly makes do with the smaller one.  It is kind of cute to see her try to curl up in the smaller bed but her belly is too big to curl!  Usually she lays on her side and hangs over the edge.  If she is lucky enough to get to the big bed first,  DeDe simply pushes in beside her and ignores her grumpy grumbles.

A couple of days ago I started giving healthy treats like fruit and veggies.  DeDe likes everything.  Dolly’s first offering of banana was funny.  She picked it off my hand but curled her lips to avoid touching the nasty thing and spit it out.  She gave me a look that said she was offended.  About the third time DeDe reached for it so she decided to eat it, a tiny bit at a time.  She now eats bananas but then comes to me and says “where’s the real treat? Due to Covid isolation I seem to spend a lot of time talking to my dogs and trying to understand what they are trying to tell me.  It is a work in progress and Dolly clearly indicates that I am a slow learner.     

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Ailurophile

by Jackie Deal

Yep, I’m an “ailurophile.  Don’t call 911 and it’s okay, I’m not contagious.  An ailurophile is a cat lover.  I’m unemotional, pragmatic, blah, blah, blah; no way could I fall in love with a cat. But there it is, this ten pound black and white tuxedo cat has me hooked by her little white paws. 

By no means am I alone, in 2016 it was reported that there were 90 million dogs and 94 million cats as pets in the U.S. I’ve just bought Amber (my Cat) a scratching post, some new food to try, a new stuffed mousie, some catnip and a (supposed) laser-light toy.  Before you laugh at my expenses how about this?  “The average cat owner spends more than $1,000 annually on each furry friend.”(from Todd Hafer’s delightful book “101 Amazing Things About Cat Lovers”.)

The “supposed” laser toy? My friend Pat had a laser beam that her cat loved to chase around the floor.  The one I bought turned out to be just a tiny flashlight and Amber watched with glowing yellow eyes….my hand and the beam coming from it.  Forget the floor. 

However the scratching post was a big success. I sprayed it with catnip and Amber fell in love.  She scratched it, wrapped all four paws around it, climbed it, bit it, licked it and had a ball. Here’s hoping it will save my one upholstered chair. 

A lot of famous Americans were cat lovers.  Abraham Lincoln was said to feed his son’s cat Tabby with a golden fork at White House dinners.  And of his cat Dixie he said, “She is smarter than my whole Cabinet.  And furthermore she doesn’t talk back.” During the Civil War when visiting General Ulysses S. Grant, Lincoln rescued three freezing kitten and brought them back to join Tabby and Dixie.

Winston Churchill‘s favorite cat was named Nelson and he bragged that it could chase away dogs.  He also had a cat named Jock who ate at the table with him and Churchill would not eat dinner until Jock was present.

I may be an ailurophile but I don’t go to those extremes. I’m determined to teach Amber that she is NOT to climb up on the kitchen sink.  Any other high perch is fair game but I draw the line at sharing my food prep’ area with paws that have been in a litter box.  Amber is not so fastidious; we’ll see who wins. 

 

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Clubhouse Use Guidelines from the Board

Due to recent improvement in the number of new Covid-19 cases in Douglas County, this is an update and clarification of guidelines for the use of the Clubhouse as of this date.

–> The Clubhouse remains closed for all social activities.

* This closure does not include the Laundry Room.

* Masked individuals may enter the Clubhouse to purchase beverages, an ice cream and may use the Library and Restrooms.

–> Current Standing Committees may hold “in-person” meetings under the following rules:

RULES FOR STANDING COMMITTEES USING CLUBHOUSE
#1) Clubhouse is open to committee meetings of standing sub and ad-hoc committees.
#2) Meetings must be held in the main meeting room.
#3) Strict social distancing must be practiced at all times.
#4) Masks must be worn be everyone present.
#5) Maximum of 23 participants in meeting room.
#6) A social distancing monitor must be appointed and named in the committee minutes.
#7) The person calling the meeting is responsible for area sanitation at the close of meeting.
#8) If microphones are required, the Sound Crew must be notified ahead of time.

Check with the office if you have any questions.

If we stay vigilant and new cases continue to drop, and with a little luck, we may see further improvement as more of our population is vaccinated.  We all look forward to an easing of restrictions as Spring turns to Summer.

Thank You for your Efforts!

The Board

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A Brief History of Time

A Brief History of Time, by Fred Prout
With apologies to Stephen Hawking. Don’t yell. (Sorry,I couldn’t help it.)

Time is not measured by day or night. Or months, years, or seasons.

It used to be, but no more. The past year, many of us realized that time was comprised of rapidly vanishing weeks and months, made up by seemingly thirty seven hour long days. Days drag. Weeks fly. As an unwillingly single man, I find that my perception of time has been determined by one thing.

Laundry day.

I don’t like doing laundry. I hate doing laundry. I inherited the job several years ago even though I’m not mentally qualified for it. Twelve water temperatures? Separate colors? Now you are certainly entitled to your opinion. And I respect that. But, it’s illegal, and I’m not doing it. And if the laundry feds come to check, I still have the pink hankies for proof.

Now, before leaving Timber Valley, I started retiring some of my long time friends and loyal servants. Well worn underwear (Brief history? Get it? ) and socks.
Not all at once. One package at a time. Retiring does not mean disposing. It means going into their own little drawer to hopefully never be called on again. Just be there at rest. Just in case.

My strategy was to buy one package of each when they were on sale at Costco. Save $2.00, get free lunch (remember that?) and usually run into at least one friend to talk to. (Remember that?)

The problem with my strategy, I found, was that no manufacturer of socks or underwear would package seven (that’s one week, folks) together. Nor would they package the same number of either. So it’s impossible to end up with the same number of both.

My goal was to not have to do laundry more than every two weeks and have a couple of days in reserve. Just in case. Plus the retirees. Just in case.

The other problem with my strategy was that different brands went on sale at different times. Gotta buy the sale, right? Not a problem with the socks, and at first, not a problem with the underwear. Until the last sale to complete my fourteen plus.

I will mention the brand, Puma, for all you guys who may fall victim. You may thank me if you wish.

What they failed to mention on the package was that they did not include a fly. There was a picture,of course, but I didn’t want to stand in the aisle of Costco and search for where the fly should be. Nor should I have to. I didn’t even think about it when I opened the package and put them on for the first time. Very comfortable. Almost silky.

Now I don’t think I’m alone in dressing before I have breakfast and four cups of coffee. Which is what I did that first day of Puma. Oh boy! Coffee and breakfast does not have the same predictably as a lemonade slushee on an empty stomach.
But it does have the same inevitability. Ready, set, go.

I’m glad I was at home (where else these days) because if I were in a public restroom, the desperate grabbing and groping trying to find a nonexistent fly, would have, at best, been embarrassing. At worst? I might have called you for bail.

Now, I know the answer to the problem. Cut my losses and replace them at the next Costco sale. Don’t retire them. Dump them. Well, I don’t mean dump. Get rid of. But, coming from a generation that made things last as long as possible, that’s not easy. It goes against nature and years of habit. I know Costco has a very generous return policy, but….. no, I couldn’t. Not with a straight face. Could I ?

In the meantime,I will have to be aware of my underwear. Hey, that rhymes. Another Seuss coming?

A Seuss Laundry Day

Oh my, oh my, oh my I say
This is the dreaded laundry day

I get my clothes I get the soap
The washer’s free, I hope, I hope

Put in the soap, put in my stuff
It fills the basket just enough

So back and forth the water’s sloshing
As I sit and watch, my lunch I’m noshing

So finally clean, into the dryer
Go round and round and please don’t tire

This job I hate, I really hate
I start real early so it won’t go late

And now it’s dry and ready to fold
This stupid job gets really old

And as I sort, I have to try
To check the undies with a fly

Cause much I did learn from the past
The ones with flys do go in last

So they sit on top and come out first
Cause once before, I almost burst

When I really wasn’t aware
Of not having a fly in my underwear.

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His Mama was a Chicken

A Short Story for Kids and Seniors by Ruby Bonham

The little Silkie chicken squirmed on her nest.  That one big egg was about to wear a blister on her bottom side and she was sure she was getting a cramp in her leg.  All of her eggs were Silkie size except one and it was Huge.  She sighed and wriggled a little more, finally getting almost comfortable.  She would sure be glad when those eggs hatched.

Something moved under her and she peeked cautiously underneath.  “Oh my, the big egg is hatching,” she called to her hen friends.

All her friends gathered round and watched as the egg began to crack and pieces fall out of the shell.  A yellowish head flopped out on the ground and the mother hen nearly fainted at the sight.  Surely that thing couldn’t be her baby.  It was big and ugly.

“Cluck,” said the other hens.  They were trying hard to think of something nice to say.  “Er, congratulations,” said one.  “He’s so big,” said another.  

The little hen settled back on the baby to keep him warm.  “Maybe he’ll look better when he dries off,” she thought.  “Oh please let him look better,” she silently pleaded.

Several hours later, the baby poked his head out from under his mother.  He was quite large next to the other babies and had an ugly bump on top of his head.  “Peep,” he said in a deep voice.

The mother hen jumped at the sound and thought she would die of embarrassment.  The other mothers tried to be kind but found it hard to find nice things to say.  No one had ever seen a baby quite like this one.

The other baby chicks didn’t seem to mind, for they were brand new too and didn’t know how to be unkind.  It was true he didn’t understand “Silkie” very good but that was OK.  He had a booming voice some of the chicks envied.  Everyone listened and got out of his way, even when they didn’t know what he was saying.

The mother was a kind, gentle mother and did her very best to teach him how to be a Silkie.  He was so big that when he slept under her wing, he poked out the side.  He had a hard time understanding her and often she would end up standing on her toes and yelling.  Finally he would get it and do as she wished.

All the other babies tried to help with his lessons.  He tried very hard and learned to do most chicken things.  He was still clumsy and slow but the babies liked him anyway.  He had nice long legs and the bump on his head grew into what looked like a bouquet of flowers.  He was rather handsome in a strange sort of way.

One day all the silkie babies were outside the chicken house, scratching in the dirt.  “Mama, mama,” yelled one of the babies.  “Come quick.”

“What’s the matter?”  The mother raced outside, heart pounding

Look!”  yelled the baby.  “There’s a line of babies with that big bird that look just like Junior.”

Sure enough a huge mother bird was walking by and following behind were four babies that looked just like Junior.

“Oh my,” gasped the mother Silkie.  “That’s a peahen.  Junior must be a peacock baby.  How on earth did his egg get in with mine?”

Junior just stood with his beak hanging open, watching the line of babies and mother go by.  Finally he asked, “Mama, am I like those babies?  Do you mean I’m not a Silkie?”  His voice was shaky.

“Yes, you must be a peacock.  It doesn’t matter though, because I love you and you will always be my baby.”  She ruffled her feathers around him.  

The other Silkie babies were very impressed and Junior became their hero in the chicken house.  When he was all grown up, he was taken to live with other peacocks and he learned to speak “Peacock, but he always spoke with a “Silkie” accent.

Ruby Bonham
1998
     

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ShakeAlert – Earthquake Early Warning System

ShakeAlert

2 pages… please click above to see page 2

Posted in Emer Prep, Featured, General Interest, Safety | 2 Comments

Board Members Needed for 2021 – 2024 Term

The Board of Directors has directed the Election Committee to recruit candidates for the regular yearly openings on the Board. There are three (3) openings for Board Director for a term of 3 years starting in July of this year and expiring in July of 2024.

If you are willing to contribute to the continuity of effective park government and can add a forward looking perspective, please consider applying for one of these positions. 

Interested members will submit a one page resume’ to the office no later than 5 pm on April 23, 2021. Please include a recent photo so park members can more easily identify you.

If you know someone who would fit the bill, why not ask them to join you in submitting their resume’?

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Singing in the Rain

SINGING IN THE RAIN by Fred Prout

There are three different stories here , so pay attention !

Among the many musical performers Rita and I absolutely loved, the very top of the list was Judy Collins. Over the years,we saw her in several different venues,from auditorium to small clubs. We loved her music, and had the good fortune to be able to spend a little ( too little) time with her.

Of all the places we saw her, the first one is the most memorable.

We saw an ad that Judy was going to perform outdoors in Groton, Connecticut, 8pm the following Friday. We lived about sixty five miles away,but we would have walked if we had to.

We got to the field about an hour early in a light drizzle. No one was particularly optimistic that the show would go on, but we all waited. Next thing we knew, they were handing out plastic garbage bags to use as rain gear. It was going to pour. A few people left ( better bleacher seats for us) but Judy Collins attracted a die-hard, dedicated group of fans.

We were chatting with our neighbors when we heard bagpipes in the distance. As we looked up, we could see Judy surrounded by two very large Scottish pipers in full regalia, followed by a third Scot holding an umbrella over her head.( A brief aside, when Rita and I were married, we were escorted to and from the church by two Scottish pipers ).

They brought her to the covered outdoor stage and they opened the show with the most inspiring rendition of Amazing Grace we had ever heard. Very few dry eyes among us. The rain worsened, but the audience was transfixed and that set the tone for the next ninety minutes. Not a sound from the audience except applause and the slight rustling of garbage bags. I think she gave us every song she ever sang. Some she wrote, some by Leonard Cohen and Joni Mitchell. A folkies wet dream.

Fast forward a few years.

We were staying outside the marine base in Twenty Nine Palms, California. We got word that the Marine Corps band would perform a concert at two pm that coming Saturday. And best of all,it was free. We were excited.The United States Marine Corps band.Wow!!!

When we took our bleacher seats, the weather was slightly overcast with some clouds rolling in. About fifteen minutes after the show was to start, a marine came out and announced that the concert was canceled because of the weather.

WHAT??????

The United States Marine Corps band was clouded out!

If only I could have summoned those three burly Scots and that tiny Irish lass from Groton.

To any former marines reading this, I apologize for any unintended comparison of the United States Marine Corps band and a group of felines. I’m sure there were reasons beyond the weather.

An unapologetic commercial. If you have never seen a movie called Taking Chance with Kevin Bacon, please try to do so. It takes place partly at Twenty Nine Palms, and is a most insightful portrayal of the character of these wonderful people who serve our country. I know Steve and Jackie have seen it. You should too.

Later that week we went to a concert by The Palm Springs Gay Men’s Chorus. They put on a wonderful show. As we were getting ready to leave, a chorus member came over to us and thanked us for coming. They had noticed how much we enjoyed the show, and that we were the only ones different in the audience. He asked if Rita would accept a beaded necklace as a souvenir. Of course she did and she treasured it for years.

We chatted for a few minutes, and when he found out that Rita was a music major and a vocalist herself, his eyes lit up. Instant rapport.

Somehow , the irony of our being different, but nonetheless, accepted stayed in our minds forever.

The magic of music.

Fred

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Cancer Closet #3

I am not a patient, I am player.

We are incredibly blessed to have top notch medical facilities right in our community. Mercy Hospital has been judged as one of the top 20 rural hospitals in the country. And with the Community Cancer Center nearby they form the arena where I strive to play my best.

The Doctors are my coaches, the Nurses in the treatment lounge are my cheer leaders. Along the way I have acquired a few personal trainers, people who want to  share their valuable life experiences with me making  my game easier to win.  The others, like me, are there to learn and grow and make ourselves and support teams proud. It is up to us to decide just how hard we will play. To be a part of a team where I am listened to, advised but not controlled,  treated as a person with a name and not just a case file is so very beneficial. They make me want to succeed  and I will play my best.

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Resume’s Wanted for Open Board Position

The Board of Directors has directed the Election Committee to seek resume’s from motivated members to complete the Board term vacated by the recent passing of Gene Fisher.  The term of this position will end in July of 2022. If you are interested in contributing your valuable time, please submit your resume’ to the office no later than 5pm on April 1, 2021… this next Thursday. This position will be appointed by the Board in accordance with our bylaws.

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D.S.T., Benson and Lemonade

by Fred Prout

This is not the story I was going to write today. In fact, Rita wanted it locked away forever.  Sorry, my love, but daylight savings time is here. The bars are rattling, and the laughter (I hope ) is directed at the situation. Everyone has been in a similar situation. Just not as … funny.

The Benson Arizona SKP park is forty seven point six miles from the nearest hospital in Tucson. On a very good day, the rush hour drive from Tucson can be done in just under three hours. On a very good day.

Rita had an out patient knee surgery scheduled for ten AM . This means be there by nine for paperwork and waiting. And more waiting. Of course, no food or drinks after midnight. For her. I very kindly waited until she was wheeled into surgery sometime short of eleven.

Now, the devils who plan such things, made sure she was out of recovery just before the start of rush hour. As I was wheeling her out to our van ( thankfully with a full bench rear seat ) I heard the dreaded words: “ I’m thirsty. Stop at Sonic and get me a lemonade slushee. A big one. A very big one.”

“But”

“ I . AM. THIRSTY. “

“Ok” No fool I .

Armed with a forty four ounce lemonade slushee, we arrived at the entrance ramp for I-10. In rush hour. With a forty four ounce lemonade slushee.

Now, a recent scientific journal found that lemonade slushees have a magical property. They are able to travel unimpeded from the mouth to the bladder with only one change. They increase in volume. From forty four ounces to roughly sixty ounces. Very, very quickly.

The nature of I 10 at that point, was that once you enter, in the right lane, you are quickly shuffled to the middle lane. Rush hour traffic assures that you are trapped. Cars and trucks ( lots of trucks) on either side for the next forty five miles. Armed with a forty four ounce lemonade slushee. Soon to become a sixty ounce lemonade slushee.

Now ladies, if you need to take a quick break, I’ll wait.

 

Okay, I see all but one of you made it ok.

At the time, we traveled with an eighty pound dog named Gunnar. Some of you met him. Gunnar always drank lots of water, so we carried an outsized water bowl with a special lid that prevented his water from sloshing out.

See where this is going?

“Fred”

“Yes ?”

“I gotta pee.”

“Really?”

“Really. NOW.”

Out of courtesy, I will eliminate the discussion involving getting the water bowl, (I am driving and no help) arranging clothes, arranging body, placing bowls etc.

You know, sometimes you try to be nice, and it’s not appreciated.

I asked if she wanted me to turn on the inside lights to help her. On I-10. With big trucks on either side.

She came very close to tossing that water bowl, filled with recycled, forty four, now sixty ounce, lemonade slushee.

We made it back to Benson in silence.

Rita, I hope you forgive me for letting this story out of the cage after all these years. I think you would agree that if it gives someone a much needed laugh, it was worth it.

I love you.

Fred

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Into Each Life

By Jackie Deal

I’ve been had! Shiny black hair, beautiful golden eyes.  And a sparkling white tuxedo.  Love and spunk in one adorable package.  Yes, I have a cat…no, wait a minute.  The cat has me!  Amber, that’s her name, has taken over.  In less than two weeks she owns my heart and home.

I haven’t had a cat since I was eight years old, so it takes some getting used to.  The litter box!  I swear she invites all the kitties in the neighborhood to play in her sand box.  No ten pound cat could produce so many cow pies (you farmers know of what I speak!). All right so they’re “cat cookies”. That nifty little scoop with the holes to drain out the litter and retain the cookies!  The person who invented that should have become a millionaire.  It’s a much more valuable than all the “progress” made by politicians and they all become millionaires or billionaires! 

As days go by, Amber’s full personality shines through.  She wants attention on her schedule not mine.  I try to walk across the floor and she throws herself full length in front of me.  She stretches her front feet up over her head, her tail out straight and presents her fluffy white tummy.  She loves a belly rub until…until…she has had enough.  Then I see that look come into her eyes and if I persist she grabs at me with all four paws.  Her expression says, “Who do you think you are?  My ancestors devoured your ancestors without even chewing.”

In the evening she declares a love fest.  I’ll be stretched out in my chair, feet elevated, practically vertical.  With a thump she makes a two paw landing on the coffee table and parachutes into the middle of my book.  She stretches her paws and face up toward mine and I must pet with both hands.  Both hands.  If I put one hand down she butts her head against it and forces my hand up over her head.  Her half closed eyes and soft murmurings are reward enough for losing my place in the book.

Play time also comes in the evening.  She throws her stuffed mouse into the air, pirouettes beneath it and gives it a good mauling. She also fights with the scatter rugs.  They go sailing across the floor and she tackles the fringes until she gets her claws stuck.  If I try to unhitch her she thinks I’m part of the game and those claws are sharp. 

Cats, as you all know, are not like dogs.  They don’t give you unending, unquestioning devotion.  They give a little, they take a little, and they maintain an arrogant independence that reflects their Ming dynasty ancestry.

.  

 

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Monsters

by Fred Prout

I have created a monster.

Actually a whole cell block of monsters.

Rita and I had over forty years of adventures. Each one had multiple stories associated with it. I find that it has become very difficult trying to share our stories with you, because as soon as I start writing one, the others start banging on the bars insisting they be the one to get out.

I’ve been trying to decide where to go next. After several false starts, I got some help and inspiration from the most unlikely source.

Joleen

Joleen is the wizard who runs the amazing kitchen at Linus Oakes. (I’m no dummy). Every month the ice cream flavor is rotated for variety. In February she tried to see if we actually paid attention so the flavor of the month was Boudreaux Cherry. I don’t know how many of us caught it, but when I saw it, Lafayette,Louisiana started yelling “ME ME ME !

Soooo, Lafayette, we are here.

Jean Lafitte state park provides many different types of entertainment. The one that stands out was a re-enactment of a Cajun wedding from a hundred years ago. Basic story line: nice Cajun girl getting married to a guy her mother called a good for nothing. Among other things.

This was all performed outside with the audience of one hundred plus standing and watching. I guess we stood out as tourists, because before the show started a middle aged lady leaned over and asked if we would be able to understand the dialogue as it was all in Cajun patois. She introduced herself as Eileen Dover ( of course not) and explained what we would be watching. We didn’t understand a word but the actions spoke loudly.

At the intermission, she excused herself to make a phone call. When she returned she was excited as she had just become a grandma for the first time. We wished each other well as she left to see little Pierre, or whatever.

We stopped at the cafeteria for a bowl of gumbo. Real Gumbo. Make your eyes and nose water gumbo. As part of the entertainment an elderly man was playing Cajun music on a fiddle. As we both loved music, we were very generous with our applause.

As he started walking by us we told him how much we were enjoying his music.
He was more than happy to sit and join us. His name was Marcel Thibedeaux and along with the cousins Fonteneaux were the basis for the song Jambalaya. Apparently Hank Williams spent time with the families when he wrote the song.

Before leaving us for the next set, Marcel said “ I show you someting you never see dis before “ and opened his wallet and pulled out a drivers license. For a Sherman tank. That was his job in the army. Driving a Sherman tank. He was right. I never see dat before.

The next day Rita was looking through the local paper, and saw that the Martin Accordion factory was giving tours. So I called and although they had no tours right then, we were more than welcome to come by. So we did.

The shop was in back of their house, and the instruments were all special order so sit, have some iced tea and we’ll talk. Before long, several cousins and in laws stopped by with various instruments, and we had a three hour concert with our visit with some of the nicest people on earth.

It seems that most people come to look at the sights and leave.They were delighted to be a part of our life and let us be part of theirs

Lafayette, we were there.

Fred and Rita

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CHOICES

by Ruby Bonham

When we look at our world today the words that most often come to mind are: Chaos, Horror, Hopelessness, Fear, Anger, Pandemic. Of all these words Fear is the root that triggers the rest. Fear of the unknown, fear of being out of control and fear of a pandemic that we neither saw coming nor know how to cope with. Anger at people of different colors, anger at being asked to wear a mask, anger taken out on others to hide their own fear. Hopelessness at jobs lost, homes lost and lives lost. Chaos results from misinformation that leads to man turning on man in an eruption of violence. Our TV’s tell us hour after hour, day after day and month after month of the horrors that surround us. Listen and you will hear the sound of tears and unbearable grief around the world of the ones left behind, who could not have imagined for a moment this state of sorrow. Where will it end?

There are many things in life, and always have been, of which we have no control. What we do have are choices of how we react to them. We can choose from the emotions above or we can choose, Compassion, Helpfulness, Support, Good Deeds and Love. Our health care workers and hospital staff are exhausted and emotionally depleted by what they see and experience every day and yet they move on to the next patient and the next. They do everything in their power to save each one and when that isn’t possible they hold them and love them and ease them into the next life. They choose to do these things at great cost to themselves and their families. Store employees go to work each day to insure that we have food and necessities for our health and well being. School children create businesses to give to those less fortunate than themselves. People wear masks and distance to not only keep themselves safe but to protect perfect strangers that they might meet along their way. Choices: Positive or Negative?

Words and thoughts are very powerful. They can hurt or heal. Although it doesn’t seem possible right now, good will come out of this time in history. If you are unable to physically help then use your power of words and thoughts to strengthen our Nation. See the disruptors as fearful little children and send them love not anger or retaliation. Words and thoughts are powerful; choose the right ones.

Ruby Bonham
2-14-2021

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Thank You, Dixonville Fire District

On behalf of Timber Valley, Kate Bright and Elaine Teague presented this cake along with a card signed by many to the Dixonville Fire District. They really appreciated our thanks, loved the cake , and were happy they were able to help many of us get vaccinations.

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Doctor Seuss

A creative work by Fred Prout

It seems like everybody’s getting mad
What used to be good is now seen as bad
The things you used to read to your child
Are now getting everyone terribly riled
They’re making a noose to kill Doctor Seuss
But what did he do
I’m asking of you
If you look hard enough
You’ll find plenty of stuff
That once was okay
But now is “NO WAY”
Internet porn is allowed
With from one to a crowd
But they’re making a noose to kill Doctor Seuss
I don’t like to complain
But would someone explain
Why we willingly buy
Political lies
And then get a noose
To kill Doctor Seuss?

by Fred Prout

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REMEMBERING

by Ruby Bonham

March 1, 2020, the day one life ended and another went into a tailspin of grief. Sometimes it seems like yesterday and others a long time ago. The mind fluctuates in its ability to cope. Looking back.

I had known who Ed was for several years. I had been to see the Traveler’s perform and bought a couple of DVD’s. I had even taken pictures of him and a number of musicians to make a photo album for a handicapped girl who wasn’t coming back to Quartzsite. The photos were of her favorites. It wasn’t until September of 2014 that I talked to him. After a music Jam, he came to me and offered to help me with my budding music. I pretty much blew him off because I knew he had a reputation of being a “womanizer”. Finally in January I agreed to let him help me. He invited me over to help me with my guitar. He was complaining about my strumming. Finally in exasperation, he said “let me show you”. He came behind me and told me to play the chords and he would strum. When he put his arm around me I forgot everything I was doing. I was twitterpated. Stunned, I asked Harlan what happened. He laughed and told me I forgot to play. Ed loved for me to tell this story of how we met. From then on we were a couple – complete. We made our commitment to each other and started on a beautiful life together.

Although we only had 5 years we crammed a lot into it. We were never apart in that time. He completely accepted me and my Asperger quirks because he had a grandson and a great-grandson with Aspergers (high functioning autism). He was living a life of not caring after losing his wife to cancer years before. I had spent a lifetime looking for him but it was worth the wait.

I became the Cookie Lady for his band The Traveler’s and supported him while continuing my own music. Ed had Arterial Heart Disease, was Diabetic and suffered from Neuropathy. I had a lot to learn but gradually his health improved. We traveled, played music lived and loved and were grateful for every day we were blessed with. People who did not know us thought we had been married 30 or 40 years. Sometimes things just work.
So now it is a year later and I still struggle to find who I am without him. He’s still is a part of me. I play our music and have started writing again. Life goes on.

Ruby Bonham 3-1-2021

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Lot 205 1/2

If you’ve taken a walk along the trail near Happy Hill you may have spotted a recently added new lot, complete with new residents. Because it’s small and due to it’s location near lot 205, it’s been dubbed lot 205 1/2.  Where did it come from?  Who built it? For the full story keep reading below:

In Bob Feiler’s (Lot #143) own words…

I guess you can blame some of it on Covid 19 and the weather. Really though it was inspired by the back an forth discussions about our park logo. A few want to change it because they think it is outdated. Most are nostalgic about it and think it reflects an adaptation of the Escapee logo. I just took the logo idea a little further and kept the original idea and updated it some. It took a while to find the logging truck online and I was happy to see they still make Lincoln Logs. The base is made from the old sign with the square dancers on it and the frame is made from composite wood (Trex) taken out of the burn pile. The whole assembly is secured to one of the concrete monuments Jim made for the storage area upgrade project. The Minion characters where added for fun. I decided to put it on the trail by a bench so people could enjoy it. It was designated Lot 205 1/2 since it located near Lot 205 and 206 is taken. Eventually I want to add a little plaque to dedicate it to the workers of the park, past, present and future who have, are and will make this a wonderful place to live.

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In Memoriam, Gene Fisher

IN MEMORIAM, GENE FISHER

When Timber Valley RV Park’s flag dipped in honor of Gene Fisher’s passing on March 2, 2021, it signified the loss of an important, vital member of our community. Gene was an integral part of many committees, Board Member, Board President; he was always ready to help. He was known for his diplomacy and being unruffled in any crises.  His granddaughter, Chrystal said, “When you’ve spent your life running into burning buildings a committee meeting was small potatoes”.

 A friend from the Board said, “When Gene was in the room you knew there was at least one adult present.”   As a board member he was a mentor to several and helped instruct the “boot camp” for new board members.  He was known for his “$5 words” and was quoted as saying, “Never say six words when forty two will do.”  His granddaughter said he always won at Scrabble with “big words”.

Gene was born Feb. 17, 1941 and he and Jane were married for 62 years. They enjoyed RVing and seeing family and friends all around the United States.  Gene was a Fire Chief in Ketchikan, Alaska and here in Sutherlin.  He was a training officer for the area and some of Sutherlin’s current volunteers remember him as that. Gene and Jane moved into Timber Valley Feb. 14, 2013.

Gene is survived by his wife, Rhoda (Jane) and 2 daughters, 7 grandchildren and 4 great grandchildren. The family requests that if you wish to honor his memory you can make donations to the Sutherlin Food Pantry in his name.

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Carol Rigdon; Lot 124

IN MEMORIAM,  Carol Rigdon

Timber Valley SKP’s flag flew at half-mast for Carol Rigdon who passed away February 25, 2021.  She is survived by her husband, LeeRoy, 6 children, 20 grandchildren and 6 great grandchildren. Carol and LeeRoy became residents on August 17, 2018 and moved into Timber Valley December 7, 2018.  

Our Timber Valley Community sends sincere condolences to LeeRoy and the entire Family.

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