Bushel Baskets

We got a catalogue from LEHMAN'S in the mailbox today.
On the back page there's a picture of two bushel baskets.
 -- one with a blue liner trimmed in yellow gingham
 -- one with a red liner trimmed in blue gingham.

This brings me another chance to skip down memory lane . . .

A long time ago before plastic clothes baskets were available
people used bushel baskets to carry laundry to the clothes line.
The trouble with that is clothes could get snagged or maybe even stained
if they were in the wooden basket for too long.  Someone came up with
liners for baskets.  They were wonderful.

One day when my family was shopping
I overheard mom say she needs a
liner for a basket. 

Little people have a lot of trouble hearing.

Mom said basket.
I heard the word *baskin*
Baskin was our copper colored spaniel at home. 

Of course!  She was buying something special for our dog.

All through the store and in the car all the way home
I looked forward to giving a present to Baskin. 

We got home. 

Mom slipped the liner over the
wooden bushel basket.  She carefully
lined up the openings to fit over the metal handles.

Then came the questions . . .
and the explanations 
and the disappointment when I found out the liner
was not for our puppy.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This afternoon I called the driving instructor to schedule three
two hour sessions for Krysta.  Before calling I told her she probably
will have to wait until September.

The look of horror and disbelief on her face was priceless. 
That's exactly what I found out.  They are booked and the first
opening is almost the middle of September.

Speaking of permits, I also have a permit and need to practice
driving a school bus with air brakes this summer. 
This is not my favorite thing to do . . .
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tripping down memory lane took Krysta and me to Walnut Grove MN
and De Smet SD last week end.  My sister, Trenda, asked if we'd like to go. 
We jumped at the chance.  We drove to Walnut Grove on Friday, arriving
about four in the afternoon.  Trenda and Brooke were on a bus tour. 
They went to see the caved in dug out On the Banks of Plum Creek. 
While we waited for them to get back we browsed around the gift shop
and then paid a small fee to step through the door to wander down the path
to a school house and a small church house and several other buildings
displaying old time stuff.  The path went past prairie grasses and wild flowers.

Next on the agenda was a picnic supper,
then we hopped in with Trenda and drove
out of town to the Pageant.


~  and this will have to be continued

Country Mouse and City Mouse and . . . Salamanders

Some of my friends have moved from the city to the country.
I am proud of them.  It has to be a huge adjustment.  I don't know if I could
do the reverse movement from country to town/city.

Never say *never* since we know what often happens when people make
loud proclamations like, "We will never move to a city!  Never!"

Except for about five weeks or so in Fort Wayne, Indiana as a newborn
and then a few months as a toddler in a tiny town in North Dakota I've lived
all my life in the country.

Krysta and I had a teensy tiny experience of lawn care in town the other week.

Who mows the lawn when there's a foreclosure on a property?
The grass keeps growing even if no one is home. 

Ellis has a knack for finding odd jobs to keep his family busy.

On the 16th of June we had buckets of rain.
We found out we needed to mow this neglected lawn on the 17th.
Jorgan was at summer camp so Krysta and I offered to help.
Ellis went home, loaded the walk- behind mower, drove back,
unloaded the mower and went to work.

Krysta and I changed clothes, loaded rakes and shovels and drinking
water and followed.  We had the job of raking up debris, loading up
firewood for camp fires, walking around the house and emptying every
container that was full and overflowing with rain water. 

Ellis had to go do some mechanic work on Evan's car about then.
It wouldn't start.

Krysta and I were going to tackle a pile of rubbish behind the garage.
We moved a tarp that was growing into the ground, then I grabbed a
dust pan that was partly buried.  There was a black, slithery movement
in the hole.

I am happy to say we did not scream . . . I suppose part of the reason was
we remembered - in time - that we were in town and one can't just scream
for no reason in town where there are neighbors on all sides.

One nice neighbor who had loaned us a tool for yanking out small trees
was sitting on her patio enjoying the beautiful evening.  We didn't want to
scare her with shrieks and terrified facial expressions and flying skirts. 

On the whole it seems we handled ourselves in a
calm, cool and collected way.

We moved away from the area to a picnic table in the middle of the
lawn and called Deanne.  We even sat on the bench instead of on top
of the table which would have felt much safer under the circumstances. 

I was pretty sure it wasn't a snake because it looked very much like
a salamander that was in our wood pile once
-- in our basement
-- in the country.

Creepy crawly creatures live anywhere, town or country.

And then there are summer camping trips . . . 

Ellis told us the place where we are thinking of camping this summer has
rattlesnakes.  My mind must be processing this info because soon after that
I had a dream about rattlesnakes.

Do any of you remember that story in the Reader's Digest a few years ago 
where a rattlesnake crawled into an occupied sleeping bag?  This guy woke
up when he felt the snake exiting the warm bag in the morning.  I remember
the artist's picture of that scene.  That's what I dreamed about.

Again, I am happy to report, I didn't scream. 
Instead, I got up and got a drink of water then went back to bed
and told myself, "It's just a dream." 

. . . and fell asleep. 

Miracles still happen and I am thankful.

There's no need to worry about maybe one day
being called to move to a big city.
God will be with us where
ever He asks us to go.