Rebecca's Birth

Good morning! Yesterday I had the amazing privilege of being with an amazing woman as she labored with and gave birth to her second baby. It actually went into the morning a bit but the bulk of the time was yesterday.

When Maria was born, it was an awful experience. Without going into many details, the nurses were awful, the doctor was awful, the whole experience was awful. This isn’t to say that every single thing the nurses and doctor said and did were awful, just that the whole experience ended up being awful. As in really, really, bad. Worse. Jonathan and Elizabeth would have liked to have a midwife this time but didn’t feel that they could afford one. What a common story that is. What a sad story that is.

This time, because they went to the hospital so early last time, Elizabeth wanted to wait. I of course agreed to be there with them, including the time spent at home. For me, this means being available whenever either of them might have a question or concern. This time, this meant going over to visit for a bit Wednesday afternoon and texting throughout the early hours of Friday morning (a flurry around 3 and periodically after that until I got up at 5).

Throughout the day, things were progressing and contractions kept coming and they were getting closer together and lasting longer. In the early afternoon, I called because I wanted to hear Elizabeth talking during a contraction. I either had to know they needed me before 1:30 so I could call the school to let Cedric and Amena know to take the bus home or I would wait to pick them up from practice and could be over to their apartment no earlier than 5:00. Everything seemed pretty okay so I went to Walmart to get a few things, including an exercise ball, and came home.

There were lots of things to do at home like get a letterbox ready to plant and maybe plant it and read. We did get a letterbox ready to plant and we even went to the place where we want to plant it but there were too many people there to actually plant so we came home and read A Horse and His Boy for 25 minutes. Then it was about time to go pick Amena and Cedric up so I did.

When I got to the school, I saw Cedric standing outside. I pulled around into the parking lot and Amena came to the car and asked where Cedric was. No idea. He’d gone back inside and called me to tell me to pick him up. Seriously? He said he didn’t see me when I got there. That’s funny. Almost. When we got home, I finished getting everything together that I needed and gave Amena and the boys instructions and left.

At Jonathan and Elizabeth’s, I took the ball out and pumped it up. Elizabeth put it to use immediately and loved it! I guess that was a wise investment. I think it might be good to have a couple more because they come in two sizes and I’d like to have one for myself to use at home.

Elizabeth sat on the ball and kneeled, leaning over it. Both were good and she alternated, getting up and walking between times. I had taken some essential oils and used some on her ankles for pain and some in a glass of hot water since they don’t have a diffuser and I don’t have one that transports well. Jonathan was happy I didn’t bring lavender because Elizabeth used some in the bath a few days ago and because she used so much, she smelled of it for a couple of days after. I happily informed him that they have lavender at the hospital and will have to take it upon myself to point out lavender often in the future.

We talked and joked and talked and Elizabeth was able to rest a tiny bit between a couple of contractions. She was concerned about having energy enough to push the baby out but somehow, the energy is always there when needed. (Yes, I realize this is general, and I understand that if women were allowed to listen to their bodies it would happen in many more instances than it currently does. When a woman knows that medical personnel will do whatever they deem necessary to get the baby out, it takes away from her own responsibility and she can allow, even if not by conscious decision, her energy to be depleted.)

It was about 5:30 when I got to the apartment. She was concerned because her water had not broken. With Maria, it broke and that’s when labor really started. Obviously, this was not the case with Rebecca. Elizabeth experienced prodromal labor for two or three days before Friday morning when it became apparent that this really was the real deal. She lost her mucous plug which was encouraging over the course of a couple of hours in the late afternoon and early evening.

At about 7:45 finally her water broke. Unlike with Maria, though, it was not a big gush but a small leak that dribbled. Contractions did speed up at that point and were becoming longer so it was about 9:00 when she decided to go to the hospital.

Jonathan made arrangements for Maria overnight and then called the hospital so they would be ready upon arrival. They told him the name of the doctor on call and I have to admit I was somewhat dismayed. No, I was very dismayed. I’m pretty sure I ought not to mention particulars about why so let it suffice that I was very dismayed and that I have my reasons. I was hoping for a good nurse because sometimes that makes up for any trepidation the doula might have.

The hospital was arrived at around 9:45. Jonathan was actually driving over the speed limit which is very out of character for him. I was following so that if Elizabeth thought he needed to pull over, I would be able to help as needed and I would be able.

Elizabeth wanted a wheelchair so we availed ourselves of the use of one. Her presence was noted at the ER admittance desk and they asked if she’d like a nurse to come down to get her. That’s a waste of perfectly good time so I wheeled her and Jonathan carried all their stuff. The only mistake made was taking the elevator up to the 3^rd floor so at the other end of the hospital we had to go down one.

She was helped into a room and immediately asked if she had to change into a hospital Johnny. No, of course not. Questions were asked and answers given. The nurse asked if she’d like to use the tub and Elizabeth answered affirmatively. The doctor was informed that she was there and came in for a moment and then left.

The nurse, who ended up being very nice, asked Elizabeth to get on the bed for a vaginal exam and she and Jonathan both very plainly indicated that she would prefer not to have one because they are very painful for her. This did fluster the nurse who went out and spoke with the doctor. They both came in and did their best to get Elizabeth to consent but she and Jonathan stood firm in their decision. The doctor left and the nurse left after comments about Jonathan and Elizabeth being on their own.

In a few minutes, the nurse came back with a consent form and instructions to sign if and when they chose to. She said that the doctor could not in clear conscious allow (I absolutely hate that word when it comes to birth) Elizabeth to labor in the tub if she could not first ascertain her dilation because they do not do water birth and without knowing dilation, they wouldn’t know how close to birthing Elizabeth was.

Jonathan rightly pointed out that dilation is not a set in stone assessment and that you can determine the baby’s position by an external palpation. He mentioned women, in that very hospital, who were assessed at 4 cm and gave birth fifteen minutes later. He may have been shaking inside, but he seemed very confident and sure of himself and what he and Elizabeth wanted. I can do nothing but applaud his actions.

Between contractions, I looked over the form with them. I told Jonathan that he should underline the part that says they can retract their consent at any time and mentioned that he could write on it that they wanted an explanation of any procedure before it was performed. This is supposed to happen but all too often, does not. They did as suggested. I told Elizabeth that she might want to consider letting the nurse attempt a vaginal exam but that she could tell her at any point to stop. Why did I suggest this? Because they were at the hospital and they would keep bothering them until they consented and it could very possibly get really ugly. I would hope that it would not, but you never know.

Elizabeth did this and although the nurse did not withdraw as soon as Elizabeth asked her too, she was able to determine that Elizabeth was dilated between 8 and 9 cm. Yay! At that point, everything seemed to begin going pretty smoothly. The nurse was nice and quiet and not overly intrusive. She did ask Elizabeth to go over to the monitor so the baby’s heartbeat could be heard. Baby was doing really well with a heartrate consistently in the high 140s/low 150s.

Elizabeth actually asked about something for pain but the nurse said that at the point she was at, they really didn’t like to give anything because the birth was usually so close that it wouldn’t do any good. Go, nurse!

The entire time of labor at the hospital, Elizabeth walked with Jonathan between contractions with a couple of exceptions toward the end when she sort of sat on the bed or sat in a rocking chair. She began grunting through the contractions and Jonathan and I kept reminding her to breathe through them and she was just a trooper. Things were very intense and Elizabeth was feeling lots of pressure. The nurse asked where Elizabeth would like to give birth and it was determined she would like to do so standing up. The nurse and I had already put the bar on the bed and this came in handy when it came time for a second internal exam which indicated full dilation and effacement. Interestingly, when she was later noting this on the chart, she mentioned to the second nurse mentioned in the next paragraph that she’d estimate station to be a plus 1 but that had she been laying down the baby would have been higher.

A second nurse came because they like to have one for the mama and one for the baby. The nurse who came is one I’ve worked with and in general I really like her. In this instance, I was not really feeling so optimistic because she’d been one of Elizabeth’s nurses before and there were a few times when I felt she was overly rough and once when she was downright rude. I didn’t say anything though, deciding to just go with the flow and keep open to the situation.

Eventually, because it had been several hours since Elizabeth used the bathroom and she’d been drinking water pretty consistently, I suggested that she try to pee because a full bladder can get in the way. She didn’t want to but agreed to try so after the next contraction she and Jonathan went in and closed the door.

The nurse asked me about Elizabeth’s first birth wondering if perhaps it had anything to do with their adamant hands off stance. I said bluntly that it was awful and that it had a great deal to do with their thoughts and desires. I’m really quite glad that she recognized that there might have been a connection. I wish the doctor and nurses the first time would have recognized that their actions might have such an impact on a woman. Women experience birth trauma all the time. It’s honestly a miracle that many of them are willing to have a baby after having such horrific experiences.

Elizabeth let out a pretty good yell while in the bathroom and the nurses both gravitated in that direction. Within another minute—seconds?—Elizabeth let out another pretty good yell and the nurse went in. Elizabeth was wide-eyed and said, “I feel something wet!”

The nurse took a look and said, “It’s your baby! The head is out.”

There was a mad dash for something for the floor and then the baby was out and in Elizabeth’s arms.

Rebecca was in Elizabeth’s arms when the doctor came in and the nurse asked where she, the doctor, would like her, Elizabeth, for the delivery of the placenta. “Well, she had the baby in the toilet, she can deliver the placenta there, too.” I don’t know this doctor well but I would guess that she was less than pleased by one, Elizabeth’s choice to give birth standing up, and two, the fact that she gave birth in the bathroom. The facial expressions and body language all indicated this.

Elizabeth did choose to go to the bed before the placenta came out but the second nurse checked the cord and cut and clamped as it was no longer pulsing so it would be easier to get to the bed. The placenta came with little effort although when the nurse was cleaning Elizabeth up she noticed some of the membrane hadn’t come out. She tugged on it gently and called for the doctor to take a look. The doctor pulled it out and left the room and as the nurse was checking Elizabeth’s uterus, a bunch of clots and blood came out. My opinion, unprofessional as it is, is that the retained membrane, which was much more substantial than the doctor said, made a dam around which the blood was not able to flow. Once the membrane was out of the way, everything could proceed in a more normal fashion.

I stuck around for another couple of hours, until they were all situated in their recovery room, and went home.

My plan is to pop over to the hospital at some point this afternoon and see how everyone is adjusting.

Thoughts:

Watching the second nurse, I have to come to the conclusion that in most cases, doctors really are not needed during the birth process. Every birth I have witnessed that has been presided over by a doctor has resulted in an almost immediate clamp and cut of the umbilical cord along with traction to get the placenta out. Those births when the doctor doesn’t get in the room quick enough result in delayed clamping and typically letting the placenta come on its own. The nurse this morning did tug gently on the cord and when the placenta obviously wasn’t coming, she let it be.

Watching the first nurse, after the initial shock of having to deal with a laboring woman and her husband who were obviously not going to just go along with the typical routine of the hospital, she pretty much took everything in stride. I’m not sure she was entirely happy about the situation because her attitude was at times slightly mocking or condescending but as time went on this seemed to improve.

Birth in a hospital does not have to be bad but if you blindly follow hospital routine, it is more likely to. If you know what you want, have sound logic to back you up, and aren’t afraid to speak up, you are more likely to have the experience you choose. Unless, of course, you are dealing with complete morons who are unable to accept the fact that hospital protocols aren’t the word of God. Then you might as well plan on visiting Hades.

And there you have it. It is four hours and ten minutes later because I’ve been busy with other things while I’ve been working on this and I’m afraid I don’t have any pictures for you at the moment so if you don’t like to read, you probably won’t even get this far.

Have a wonderful day!

Socks and Lace

Sunday I finished Seth's socks that I've been working on for what seems like forever. I wanted to take a picture of them on his feet but haven't managed to do that yet. I know he was wearing them yesterday. 

The inside of one leg. You can see the color changes. I wanted to do these toe up but I have a terrible time actually beginning with the toe so I did a provisional cast on right about where the decreases for the toe would begin and did from there to the tip of the toe. Then I picked up the stitches and worked from there up. I'd like to work on the heel working this way, and the casting off, but they turned out pretty well.

This is what they looked like this morning. You can tell they were worn yesterday.

Yesterday I worked on my Magickal Earth shawl. I had done quite a bit on it over the years but a couple of years ago took it apart because my needle broke and I lost a bunch of stitches (there were still over a thousand on the needle at that point) and I didn't feel like going to the effort to attempt to pick them up and figure out the pattern. It was probably doable but not something I really wanted to do. Besides, I started making it in the relative infancy of my serious knitting as an adult and made all kinds of mistakes. I've learned a lot since then and figured it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing to start over. So that's what I did. 

This is what the second copy of the pattern looks like. I have numbers at the bottom so I can keep track of which repeat I am on. When I've used a particular copy four or five times, it's hard to see what's supposed to be going on and I print it out again.

This is what it looked like at the end of the day yesterday. Or the beginning of the day today.

The pattern for the lace edge (the whole thing is lace) is done back and forth (once it's done, stitches are picked up along the straight edge and then worked in the round to the middle) and has a 48 row pattern repeat that must be done 47 times plus another just doing rows 1 through 46. I'm currently about ten rows from finishing the tenth repeat. Yesterday afternoon while the boys were cleaning, I was knitting and watching Vikings. It was a good afternoon.

The Past Few Years to Present

Finally, we come to Massachusetts. It has been an interesting approaching eight years here, if nothing else.

This post was mostly ready to go days ago but the past couple have been pretty busy. We had this thing Saturday, you see. This thing called the Polar Bear Derby which requires being outside all day and is usually a lot of fun and this year had a Star Wars theme. Well, we couldn't just go as ourselves, now, could we? Well, some of us could because there are only so many hours in the day and only so many dollars in the checking account/pocket/etc. Still, not all of us could go as ourselves so for the couple of days leading up to Saturday, the me part of we was busy making Jedi suits. Two just in case the Boy Scout decided to go along to help because a scout is prepared.

This happened to be the best dressed Jedi in attendance:

The picture isn't the clearest but you get the idea; he looks somewhat poofy because he was wearing his jacket underneath. Honestly, Hubbardston Pack 12 had the best dressed characters there. Too bad the Boy Scout at our house who had something to wear decided not to go and there aren't more hours in the day.

See that huge gash on the right side of the image? That is a gravel pit. One of several on Pitcherville Road. In this particular one, they've put a solar farm in the lower portion. That's cool. They also want to put a toxic dump back there somewhere. There was supposed to be a town meeting about it a couple of weeks ago but it was postponed. No toxic dumps for me, thanks. We've got enough problems with allergies; not interested in more of them or other problems in general.

And this is home sweet home. While there is green, there isn't as much year-round green as I'd like. The autumn foliage here is usually quite spectacular but when it's gone, the trees are just bare and rather forlorn looking. Not green. But, with thirty acres, there's plenty of room for chickens and goats and a garden. And just about anything else a person might want. However, other than Joanna and Lincoln, it is more than 2,000 miles from family (and Joanna and Lincoln don't want to stay in MA).

Not to mention, this:

My beautiful mountain. My roots. This picture was taken on my birthday by Tony Kidd and posted on the Graven Images Facebook page. I do have permission to share. Isn't it beautiful?

Idaho, Part 2

After spending about six weeks bouncing around between the houses of two families we knew, a solution presented itself. Alisha found an apartment in Sandpoint, Becky would be moving with us but was engaged now so as soon as she was married she would be out of our hair, so to speak. I'd been attempting to talk my mom into getting another job because she was so unhappy where she was. After lots of talking and praying, she decided that she would move to Idaho and live with us.

At one point in time while we were living in Bonners Ferry and I dared to complain about the size of the house (there were eleven of us living in a three bedroom house with one bathroom), Dan told me that I needed to get used to the idea that if we moved, it would be into a smaller house. You can perhaps imagine what a relief it was to move into a house that was larger than any save perhaps the house on Miner's Creek we'd ever lived in.

We were moving south, but still in Boundary County. Naples was our destination, about twelve miles south of Bonners Ferry. This image gives you an idea of the green, the farm land and/or fields, Naples and the area to the northwest where we actually lived. We were four miles from the school.

Closer.

And closer. The house was on five acres. I'm sure we could have had chickens if we'd asked and maybe goats. They were willing to let us have a horse. The house was also four bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms. I'm sure we could also have had a garden but at the time I was feeling pretty overwhelmed with life in general and didn't push anything that wasn't necessary.

We knew that was going to be a short-lived housing solution. Another presented itself just in time and the best thing was that it was only two miles from the first and shared the same bus stop. See the lovely trees?

This house was also on five acres but had the added bonus of abutting Forest Service land. This house wasn't finished but we were renting with the option of buying and, oh, the plans! This was my favorite house of all those we lived in in Idaho. It was about my third second favorite house of all those I've ever lived in.

I didn't realize that this would be a short term proposition but it was. Next, and last to date, is Massachusetts.

Idaho, Part 1

As I mentioned last time, I wanted to leave New Mexico as soon as we arrived. Pretty much the whole time we were there, I wanted to leave. It did not matter that I met some really nice people there. It did not matter that there is beauty there. We were far from family and friends and due to circumstances, I felt like I was being sucked dry.

While we were there, a very good friend of mine who had moved from Scott Valley to Utah while we were still in Scott Valley, moved to Idaho with her family. She said we should visit because it reminded her a lot of the valley. We did. Amazingly, Dan even liked it. We visited in February, we moved in March.

Moving was quite an adventure and I'm not sure I'm really ready to talk about it much. The fact that it was an adventure is enough.

The place we found to rent was about fifteen miles north of Bonners Ferry and about fifteen miles south of the Canadian border. It was beautiful! Notice all the green? Oh, my goodness! I loved it. I'm pretty sure I'd have been happy to stay there if we could have bought the property and built a larger house. The location was lovely and remote and there was room for a garden and chickens and goats.

There were mountains and lots of farm land and water. That lovely snake on the left is the Kootenay River. Anhueser-Bushe has hops farms, which are very interesting, there. We tried growing some and what an amazing plant. It will grow up to twelve inches in a twenty-four hour period--you can almost see it growing. And goats love it.

Lots of places to explore. We walked up and down the creek and generally had a good time. The only drawback was the driveway, which was about a quarter mile long, in mud season.

The house, slightly off center here, was just an old trailer that had a decent add on. The three other houses you see here were not there when we were. The two in the upper right were under construction when we moved. The only reason we moved when we did is because the property had sold.

When we moved here, one of the first questions we were asked is, "Will you send your kids to Mt. Hall School (which was just down the road a bit)? Or do you homeschool?" Homeschool was a big deal--lots of families did it. It was nice to fit right in that way.

The second place we lived in Idaho was actually in Bonners Ferry. Even though it was in town, it wasn't a bad location. I mean, it could have been worse. It could have been better, too, but it wasn't bad. One drawback was lack of a fence. Cedric was almost twenty months old when we moved and one day he decided to take off walking down the street. NOT a good idea. Very indicative of Cedric, though.

Anyway, this first image of Bonners Ferry includes more of the Kootenay River. It liked to flood and there are dikes built up on either side through town. While we were in Idaho, they were almost breached at least once.

This also has a 2000 feet scale but shows from the river south which is the area in which we lived.

Obviously, a town. Still lots of green.

We lived in the house just slightly off center. The building just to the north is a church. I watered the front lawn for them for $50 a month. It wasn't a bad deal although it looks like they put in a parking lot since we were there. I don't blame them--the town put in water meters while we were there and began charging for water.

There is a garden still behind the house. There wasn't one when we moved in but the landlord said it was fine if we did so of course we did. Along the south side of the house I had a pretty cool little flower bed that continued up to the side of the porch. On the north side of the porch I put in some shade-loving plants and that was nice, too.

It was in this house that Seth was born before Denise could get there and then Joseph was born in a tub of water in the living room. One of the first things we did when we moved somewhere new was find out where the library was. The Bonners Ferry library is one of my all time favorites just because the people who worked there were wonderful and the building was in a unique location and when we lived in town, we could, and often did, walk there.

It was in this house that the idea of becoming a midwife first entered my mind. My only regret is not taking myself more seriously.

It was also in this house that a seventeen year marriage finally came to an end and seven children and I needed to find a new place to live, not to mention Alisha and Becky. In many ways, it should have been Dan moving out but he was difficult and I didn't really want to stay in that house, anyway. It was full of mold and much too small. It was also in this house that a very toxic relationship developed and that relationship is really the only thing about Idaho that I regret.

More Idaho next time.

New Mexico

I was going to call this post Hell but decided that wouldn't be entirely fair because while in many was it was that bad, there was some good, as well. I did not want to move to New Mexico. California, specifically Siskiyou County, was what I knew, it is where is grew up, it is where I had lived my entire life (except for that five month period I've mentioned in Provo which I don't really count). I had no desire to leave.

Some people, however, have a the-grass-is-always-greener complex. After making phone calls, it was discovered that there were indeed jobs to be had in New Mexico (there are anywhere, really, if you don't mind what kind of work you do and are willing--you can create your own job as well). After renting a mobile home (that was a stretch) sight unseen, we made arrangements, announced we were leaving Sunday at church, and left on Tuesday. All I can do at this point is shake my head in disbelief.

This newer mobile home was a single-wide trailer almost as old as me (manufactured in 1971) and not in good shape. It hadn't been properly cleaned, it was not in the middle of the country as promised (remember, we were coming from an old dairy farm where our nearest neighbors were a field of cows), there were no trees to speak of (they call juniper bushes 'trees' so use your imagination), and the river we were near (San Juan) was brown.

This one is just so you can get a better idea of what exactly we were getting into. On the left is Farmington. On the right is Bloomfield. You really cannot tell where one ends and the other begins. It was just a lot of people surrounded by the desert.

Our address was CR 5500 Box something. Basically, to the west of County Road 5500 was Farmington, to the east was Bloomfield.

This is the country. I guess New Mexico is kind of like New England--words I think I know and understand have an entirely different meaning.

Things have obviously changed since we were there. You can see two rows of trailers. We lived in the top row on the end nearest 5500 but our trailer was perpendicular to the driveway road rather than 5500 as the one in this image. This was obviously taken in the winter sometime but can you see any green? Yeah, me neither.

We were there for about a year and a half. Actually, a year, two months and two weeks. We met some wonderful people during our stay there and Dan found his second best job in terms of longevity while there. It was too close to people, though, and there was no place for a garden right where we were. We did have a garden at someone else's house but once our bicycles were stolen, it was hard to get over to work in it.

I was ready to turn around and go back to California when we pulled into the driveway and that didn't really change the whole time we lived in Bloomfield. So, we ended up moving. We looked at different places near Bloomfield but it isn't likely any of them would have worked out. Eventually we ended up moving out to Escrito.

Those squiggly lines? They are washes. Not rivers or streams; washes. Washes are interesting things. Fascinating things. When they are dry, they are fun to walk along and explore. When they have water running in them, they are incredible to watch. We met more interesting people out here and I have to say that in general, the Navajo people are some of the nicest I've ever met.

More up close and personal. The mobile home in the middle at the bottom is approximately where ours was. The big quadrilateral north of it was the big garden. Our first summer there we had a smaller garden just off the south west corner of the house but we were going to be part of this big cooperative venture so we needed something larger. Well, we got it.

While living here Amena was born and then two days less than two years later, Cedric. I can't say I'm sorry we lived in New Mexico but in general most of the time we were there I would not care to live over. We left New Mexico four years after we arrived.

Next up--Idaho.

Scott Valley, Part 2

After Duzel Creek became unbearable, we moved to Etna. Although we were now living in a very small trailer (I'm not sure you could call it a mobile home) with an addition, it was okay. It was clean, there was a nice spot for a garden in the back yard, there was a barn for goats.

Sydney was homeschooled while we were up Duzel Creek because the bus didn't run on dirt roads and it would have been a fairly long drive to and from the bus each morning and afternoon. At the time, we used books and curriculum from the school. I knew homeschool was something I wanted to do but that wasn't the best time or place to begin. In Etna, she went to public school. For a time.

We were rather on the edge of Etna, so to speak, so you really don't get to see the whole town. Or city, I guess it is. You can see Etna Creek cutting across from the middle at the bottom up to the top right. Even in Yreka, we never lived far from water, even if it didn't run all year. We weren't far from Yreka Creek and although I don't see evidence of it on the map now, there was a creek running even nearer our house; it flooded once while we were there and of course we had to go watch it.

Right there, almost smack in the middle, is the house/trailer we lived in. You can see all the cars behind it and at the bottom in the middle of the left side there are some trees. The barn is just south of them. During the summer, I would walk outside, pick a handful of cherry tomatoes and eat them while walking to the barn to milk the goat. That was just before Joanna was born. Which means, since we didn't move again until after, that she was born while living here.

Not long after Joanna was born, Dan decided it was time for Sydney to do homeschool again. Never mind that I had a by-then-three-year-old as well as about a five-week-old. Never mind that we had almost no books for fifth grade at the time. We had friends who homeschooled and they were very helpful and had lots of tips and pointers, but that did not make up for everything else. I still knew I wanted to homeschool, but I was not ready at that time.

Why did we have to move so often? I don't know. Dan would get unhappy with a job and so he would quit, usually before he had another one lined up. I think he got unhappy with each place we lived, as well. Under different circumstances, each place we lived would have been fine. With a growing family, we really needed larger houses than we found. Until the next one.

Right in the middle is the cluster of buildings where we lived. You can see there was farmable land, trees, the ever present creeks, the mountains. I really liked it here.

This place was awesome. That is all I can say about it. The house is the building in the middle. The building to the south west had an apartment on the end nearest the house, a garage at the other end, and was like storage between. I guess the guy who lived there before the people we sublet it from manufactured fishing poles or some such thing. We never used the barn which is the building up at the top. Along the road are some trees at the top and it is amongst them that there was a shed that we used for the goats. We had a garden on the south side of the house.

This is the first place that I ever lived that if I could have bought it and lived there for the rest of my life, I would have. The house needed a lot of work but it would have been worth it. I like this house and the land so much that I used it for one of my stories.

Our time here was short, however, because the family we sublet it from wanted to come back so we needed to find another place to live.

One thing about the job Dan had at the time, he got to drive all over the place and got to see lots of potential places to live. I don't remember how he found out about the place at Oro Fino but, as is true of most places in Scott Valley, there is an abundance of farm land, mountains, trees, and water. And lots and lots of roads for walking and running and biking.

We did have goats here but for some reason we didn't keep them. I don't remember why without looking through my old journals and even then I might not have talked about that. We also had a turkey and two chickens. We actually had more chickens than that but we ended up with two. They would wander around and leave eggs for us and it was a pretty good thing. Then, one day, Dan decided to kill them. I really don't know the why on that one; he never would tell me. I was super annoyed, though, because they gave us eggs and he just killed them one day without even giving me the option of butchering them. I wouldn't have wanted to, but not even being allowed the option was a bone of contention.

It was while living here that Alisha was returned. What a long process that was. I won't go into detail about it here because I don't want to but it was good and I was glad.

We had a garden here, too, and my mother ended up moving to a mobile home just a quarter mile up the hill from us.  Anyway, you can see the house we lived in on the southern edge of the trees. It was in this house that Daniel was born.

This wasn't a bad place to live. The house was small, but adequate. The location was superb. However, it was an old dairy farm being used to raise cattle and hay and it was for sale. I guess. You know, because everything is for sale if the price is right. 

And that is what happened. Everything was sold, we needed to find a new place to live. Dan had quit the good job, got a better paying one but quit it as well and was having poor luck finding another. He had a roommate while at BYU for his one semester who was from Arizona. He'd visited there, I guess, and liked it so he called around and we ended up moving. To New Mexico. And that is where I'll take you next.

Scott Valley, Part 1

Next, as I mentioned last time, we moved to Scott Valley. We camped along Sugar Creek for about a month on BLM land. That was interesting. I mean, you know, anything can be interesting with the right attitude. It was here that Cocoa was almost lost. When we were finally moving into Monte's house in Greenview, I walked up and down the creek and along the road calling his name. It seemed like forever but was probably only 20 to 30 minutes. Finally I heard him and he came running. Still makes me sad because living in Greenview was not good for him. We also had Tanna and Nita at the time and for some reason, they were fine. I'm not sure why or how things worked out the way they did.

 

Here we have the  bustling metropolis of Greenview. It had a population of 201 in 2010.

More up close and personal. The house is in the middle. There is a garage of sorts right beside it. In the back is a barn where we had goats, chickens and turkeys. Between that and the fence for the yard we had a garden. It was here that Laura was born and we experienced cattle drives on Main Street. It was also while living in this house that Alisha was taken from me and put in the protective custody of her father. I guess enough time has gone by that my blood doesn't boil when I think about it. That's a good thing. It was also in this house that something happened to Cocoa. Tanna and Nita were fine. I don't know if it is just that they spent more time in the house or that they didn't fight or what but something terrible happened to Cocoa. He disappeared one day and didn't come back. Then one day, a cat that looked like him but was blind in one eye, was missing part of an ear, and no longer trusted me showed up. He would eat the food that I left out and he would look in my direction when I called his name and talked to him, but he didn't trust me and never let me touch him again. That memory is still painful.

From Greenview we moved to Nasus Ranch. You can see the light colored field just about in the center of the picture portion of the image.

You can see it better here. We would walk from the house, which is just to the bottom left of that field, to Kidder Creek, which is the snaky line in the middle of the right side of the picture to explore.

It looks like the shed that was up on the hill behind the house is gone. The house is the building more or less in the center. We had a garden on the hill in front of the shed and the goats and chickens lived in the shed. The goats had a pen behind and to the north of it and the chickens had a run to the south. While living here, Dan's ex-wife, Lyn, died and his daughter, Sydney came to live with us. Alisha would come for visitation and those days that my mom, sisters, Grandma and Papa all came were the best.

Our next move was up Duzel Creek. As you can see, very much in the mountains.

Although there are valleys, too. Or gulches.

We lived in the cabin in the center. What was that like? Crazy. Little tiny cabin with no real bedroom. There was a loft that had been mostly closed off and a little alcove around the corner from the living area. It was an A-frame cabin that was meant to be part of a dude ranch, what else can I say? It is a nice area, and I wouldn't mind living there again, but I would have to have a much larger house.

And that is that. We lived in Greenview for a little more than a year and at Nasus Ranch for maybe six months. I'm honestly not entirely sure why we moved from there up Duzel Creek other than Dan knew the guy who owned the cabins and had lived there before. We didn't last there for too long because it was so small and George was a nice guy but not really a good landlord.

I'm thinking about how long we were up Duzel Creek and I don't really remember. It wasn't long. I don't even remember if we were up there during a winter or not. We were at Nasus Ranch. For certain I can tell you that Laura was born in Greenview and then we moved to Nasus Ranch which is where Sydney came to live with us. Then, before Laura was 18 months old, we were up Duzel Creek. By the time we were making trips to Mt. Shasta to see Andrea, we were in Etna. So, I guess we could have been up Duzel Creek for a winter but we must have left in the spring because we had a garden in Etna.

So, another short period of time (about two and a half years) and too much moving (three houses). Next up is the second half of our time in Scott Valley.

Transient Eighteen Months

Well, that was fun. After the short Mt. Shasta stint, Alisha and I moved to Yreka. We stayed with my mom for a couple of months but because she and my sisters were in a two bedroom apartment, it was a bit of a tight fit. It was fun while it lasted but I'm glad it didn't last any longer than it did. While we were with my mom, Alisha was completely potty trained and I started working for the Siskiyou County Welfare Department. It has the more politically correct name of Siskiyou County Health and Human Services now but we all know it's the same thing.

An interesting thing about that is that I was able to apply and be hired because I had well over the required number of college credits needed. At the time, it didn't matter what they were in, just that a person had them. Probably a third of mine were in English and the rest were whatever else I needed to be well rounded. Another interesting thing is that my mom was currently working there, in Fiscal (I was a clerk) and my Aunt Debby had worked there in the past. Once, when I was opening a case, Debby's initials were in the front of the folder and then my  mom's, and I added mine. It was kind of a family affair, I guess.

I was still attending College of the Siskiyous and graduated with an associates degree in English a couple of months after I started working. Alisha was just two so I had to find a day care and was fortunate to find a decent one and lucky, in some ways, that she didn't have to go every day due to visitation with her dad. Financially, that was nice.

This is Yreka. Current population (as of 2013) is 7,605. To that point, it is the largest place I'd ever lived with the exception of Provo, UT, which, as I mentioned, I don't count because my one memory of it happened in the apartment we lived in and while we were moving back to California.

Yreka a little closer.

And this is Yama Street. 211, I think, is where we were. This is when I think it would be great to more easily be able to alter my images. I can tell you which house it was but it would be so much easier to circle it or put an 'x' on it or otherwise indicate which one I'm talking about. I just had to look it up again to make sure of names but 211 is not apparently where we were. 211 is way down by Main Street. Yikes! Anyway, we have here Yama and North Gold intersecting. There is a house on the south west corner and then another house. We first lived in the third house. It was small but served our purposes and got us out of my mother's hair. I don't remember how long we lived there but it wasn't too long and then we moved to the duplex just behind the house. We lived on the side nearest Gold. That was nice, nice being relative of course. I have some good memories from there and hope Alisha does as well. It was nice to be independent but close to family. My mom and dad were both in Yreka, my grandparents were still in McCloud. We were there for a little over a year before moving when I met and married Dan.

At the time, he was working for Bob Kuck on his ranch out north of Montague. It was called Willow Creek Ranch and I really wondered how long it would take me before I was able to get myself to Yreka for work without worrying about making a wrong turn. It did happen, though.

You can see where the road/driveway curves. I'm pretty sure the house we lived in is hiding under the trees right there because I'm pretty sure it isn't that larger structure to the north east with a what looks like white roof. It wasn't bad living there. Not perfect, but not bad. It was short lived. One thing I didn't realize about Dan before I married him is that he doesn't tend to stick with one job very long before moving on to another. Such was the case working for Kuck's. He'd started not that long before we met and by August or September, we were moving because he'd quit. That took us to Scott Valley.

And Scott Valley is where I'll take you next post. I'm not sure we'll cover all of it because we lived in quite a few places while there but we'll get our feet wet, anyway.

And there you have the next two years of my life. Actually, that was less than two years. That was just a little over eighteen months. I'm afraid that kind of sets the stage for the next few years of my life but more of that later.

The Beginning Years

I have long thought that it would be a fun project to go to the various places I've lived and take pictures of the houses, where possible, and the surrounding area. Today I thought of a similar project utilizing Google Maps. I decided not to include places I don't remember such as the first place I lived with my parents in McCloud, California, and Provo, Utah. I'm not even positive which house on Oak Street I lived in, for goodness sake. I've also not included the summers I spent with my Aunt Debby and David in Yreka, California, or my Uncle Robert, Aunt Julie, Jeannette, and Robert Lee in Enid, Oklahoma. I have many memories from each and although I stayed for an extended period of time, I didn't officially live in either place.

What I've done is taken at least two screenshots of each place I can remember living. There really isn't any rhyme or reason to them other than I was going for one of at least a 500 foot key at the bottom right and then another of 50. As you will notice, although I have several at 500, they are not the same. Likewise with those at 50.

Other than the brief stint in Provo, UT, while my dad attended a semester at BYU, I spent the first 18 years of my life in McCloud, California, and then moved to Mt. Shasta, CA for a couple of years. This is what they look like:

This is McCloud, California. You can see the high school, the elementary school, the street I did most of my growing up on. Just a little town in a very beautiful place. Notice all the green.

This is Oak Street. I'm not sure if I lived in the house in the middle of the image or the one just below it. Either way, we lived there until I was five and I had a wonderful sandbox by the stairs up to the back door. McCloud has alleys and that roadway you see between Oak and Hennessey is the alley way.

Qunicy. The three houses in the middle, at the time I lived there, were, top to bottom,  mine, my grandparents, and my 3rd grade teacher and her husband from whom I had chorus and band in 7th and 8th grades. He also taught them at the high school. When I was 17 and a senior in high school, I moved in with my grandparents for a few months. It was while living with Grandma and Papa that Alisha was born.

Then I moved to Mt. Shasta. Lots of green here, too. I don't think I ever really paid attention to how neat and orderly and north/south east/west so many of the streets are in Mt. Shasta.

As cities go, Mt. Shasta isn't bad. I mean, it has a wonderful park, one of the best outdoor stores, The Fifth Season, and it, like McCloud, resides in the foothills of Mt. Shasta the mountain.

Pretty much in the center of the picture part of the image is the apartment we lived in. We were above the manager which was nice because we were also very close to the laundry and play ground. From here, Alisha and I moved to Yreka. I'll cover that in the next post.

So  many memories. Goodness. That covers, with the exceptions noted at the beginning, the first twenty years of my life. Next will cover a shorter time span but two major moves.

After going to the trouble of moving all  my lovely screenshots from my laptop to my trusty R2D2 flash drive in order to play with them on Paint on the other laptop, I've decided that until I can use the Bamboo as more than a glorified mouse pad, I'm going to let these things be. The version of Paint on the other laptop is so ancient that it's just a little more effort than I feel I have the time to expend. Sooooo, I hope you enjoy my little forays into the past in spite of my lack of edited images.