The Possibility of Ice Cream

It's a struggle to buy dairy and meats when it is at least an hour from the store to your freezer. And that doesn't count the time between putting it in your cart and buying it. Even with a cooler or cold bags, frozen foods rarely stay frozen. I've tried buying ice cream a couple of times, but even in the winter, the top layer was melty by the time we got home. I thought buying ice cream in summer months, when we want it most, was going to be impossible.

The local cafe has ice cream by the scoop. When I bought some to share with my daughter today, I commented on how hard it is to get ice cream out here to the cafe owner and she revealed the secret of how Bickletonites get their ice cream fix: The Schwann's man.

Much like the bookmobile, every two weeks we have the possibility of access to town luxuries like library books and ice cream. I never thought I'd order Schwann's because I know it's more expensive. But I'd rather pay $5 for a half gallon of ice cream that I actually get to eat than $3 for one that melts all over my car.

Mmmmmm. Ice cream.

More Postal Shenanigans

So last week we got a bill for our "free" post office box. We were told that we got it free because we weren't on the mail route. I was hoping the bill was a mistake. Today I made an extra effort to walk to the post office to talk to the lady who works there despite the fact that the morning sunshine was quickly turning into threatening clouds.

Funny story, we are on the mail route. All we have to do is put up a mail box. Most frustrating is that we could have done that when we moved in and then had mail delivered to our house. Seriously? All the drama and issues that have surrounded the simple act of getting the mail was all unnecessary? Grrr.

Colors

One of my complaints about Bickleton in spring, besides the fact that spring apparently never comes to Bickleton, is the lack of colors. There are few flowers--because of the deer, most people don't even try to plant around here. And there are no blossoming trees, which I sorely miss about Portland springs.

My wonderful husband brought home some color--a bouquet of flowers. Which is quite a feat in a town where no flowers are sold.

But yesterday the drizzling spring day found a way to bring a little color to the beige landscape.





Scenes from the Road

One morning we drove by the corner ranch at just the right time. One man was driving a pick up slowly along the fence while another stood on the trailer behind and threw bales of hay to feed the cows. Dozens of lumbering cows and stumbling calves rand down the hillside for their breakfast. A small calf was nestled on a bale of hay at the feet of the rancher on the trailer and another one stood outside the fence on the roadside and stared at us as we drove by.

This is one of the scenes that I am both afraid my daughter will forget (in the scenario in which we actually get to live in civilization again) and that she will not pay any attention to one day (in the scenario in which this becomes an ordinary scene in her life).