My Life in Three New York Times Articles

It's like the New York Times is reading my mind or something. First I see this article on adults and their mommies. This is totally me. My mom helped me move into my new place, and I've been in a bit of a funk ever since she went back home Thursday. I've been talking to her several times a day since she left. Just ten minutes ago I called her at work with the SOLE purpose of telling her that a pair of goldfinches had found the birdfeeder she'd bought me. (As a sidenote, excitement over a pair of yellow birds is not appropriate in a thirty-year-old is it? Be honest. I'm afraid that moving to the country is beginning to age me prematurely. Not only am I spending an inordinate amount of time staring out my windows watching hummingbirds, I've been vaccuuming the crevices between the floorboards for days. That's not normal. Although, to be fair, if I had tv reception, I wouldn't be reduced to staring out my windows for entertainment and my obsessive cleaning would definitely come to an end.)

Then I see this article all about the vast wilderness at the heart of Idaho. Of course, the area the writer talks about isn't quite my hood (but it's pretty close). Much as I would like to pretend I'm in the middle of nowhere, I'm currently posting thanks to a neigbor's unsecured wireless network. As thrilled as I was to discover this route to the internet, it makes it a little harder to pretend I'm really roughing it.

And finally, there's this story, all about poor rural people and their pets, and the pernicious practice of dumping unwanted animals out in the country. In spite of the fact that I actually live in an area with a pretty good regional animal rescue group, I can totally relate. A sweet, young, very pregnant stray cat showed up on my doorstep the day after I moved in. ARGH! She's clearly not feral, because while she's a little timid, she's not really afraid, and she loves to be petted. Which means that this cat used to belong to someone who dumped her when they realized she was pregnant. Of course I'm going to keep her. Sugar, meet Freckles.

Some Context

So that my city friends can have a little better context of where this former city girl has found herself -on the right is a picture of my outhouse. Yes, it has a skylight. I actually remember using this when I was a kid and my parents were building the cabin. (We were sleeping in a tee-pee at the time. Yes, a real tee-pee. I wish I had a scanner so I could show you a picture of that!) I don't remember the outhouse having a skylight though. Maybe that's one of the "improvements" renters past made?

And here on the left, as promised, is a photo of the two lovely abandoned cars that are now part of my estate. Apparently the last renter but one left 10 cars behind, along with a school bus and 50 (!) washing machines. Thank god I never saw that. I think I would have cried. This small measure of Idaho squalor just makes me laugh. In the background you can also see the part of the animal husbandry compound they built. It's almost impressive.

But here is what makes living in circumstances that would have made my younger, painfully eager to seem sophisticated self blush; look at that view!

Idaho Vignettes

This blog has not exactly lived up to my hopes when I started. Mostly because my internet access has been even more limited than I thought, but also because I'm really lazy about posting when I do track down a high speed connection. Since I last posted, I've turned 30 and moved to Idaho. In that order.

Idaho is . . .nothing like Washington DC.

My mom and I went to lunch at a local restaurant/bar (Donnelly has a population under 200) where a large group of young men stood around a video game called "Extreme Hunting" shooting plastic guns at the screen.

Slightly more promising is the fantastic customer service I've received at every place I've been today. Post office, visitor center, coffee shop, telephone company (!) - every stop featured an incredibly friendly person who answered my questions efficiently and with a smile. Please note RCN customers, this included the lady at the TELEPHONE company.

My mom has always described the cabin I'm living in, which my parents built when I was three years old, as a tar paper shack with a million dollar view. 20 years of renters have made that description even more apt. People, I have two abandoned cars on my lawn. Plus assorted outbuildings and pens for mysterious animals cobbled together with spare pieces of timber, random pieces of tin, and the occasional frayed blue tarp. It is vintage rural Idaho. If I ever get internet access at home, I need to give you a photo essay, because it needs to be seen to be believed.

There's a building in Donnelly that bills itself as a library/thrift store. It's about the size of a one car garage. I haven't been inside yet, but I'll report back once I've investigated. My internet time is about to expire, and it's time to venture to the local hardware store. One enterprising past renter decided to add some windows . . . and used re-purposed sliding glass doors. The holes in the frames where handles used to be attached? He plugged them with scraps of bubble wrap. Never let anyone tell you that Idahoans aren't resourceful.