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).

Gun Toting

My family is surprised at how conservative our community is. I think that like many people, they think Seattle when they hear Washington. Well, we might as well be a million miles away from Seattle.

We've been assured that if anything "went down" in this area, we'd be completely safe and protected because the population is armed to the teeth. I always wonder what they think is going to happen in rural Washington. Are they worried about a hostile take over? In a county with more cows than people, I don't think we'd garner much attention from any invading party.

On Sunday as we drove home from church, we passed a man standing on the side of the road. He fit right into the landscape--scruffy, camo jacket, beat up hat, with a dirty pick up as his backdrop. And he was holding a gun.

It is one thing to hear about all the guns that people around here own. It is another to see them out on our roads and in the middle of our lives.

Tea Time

Side Note: Someone forgot to tell Bickleton that yesterday was the first day of spring. It snowed.


On Saturday I went to the annual Bickleton Ladies' Tea. I was sorely tempted to pretend to forget it was happening--mostly because I had no idea what to expect from it. But not much happens in Bickleton, so it's a shame to miss anything.

I got there late, so I only saw the end of the spring fashion show. A shop in Sunnyside provided clothes and accessories and the girls from Bickleton High School were the models. There were door prizes handed out throughout the event.

We ate something with rice and unidentifiable veggies glued together with cream of chicken soup and topped with sliced almonds. There was also an orange jello fruit salad type of thing. The dessert was actually really good and pretty though. It was whipped cream, cream cheese, and raspberries mixed together and put in pretty little glasses with a raspberry and a mint leaf on top.

The theme was "Pretties, Pearls, and Posies." But also somehow it was clown themed. (The speaker was a clown--more about that next.) The napkin holders were clown noses, there were colorful balloons all over, and the centerpieces were surprisingly cute and clever. Balloons that weren't blown up had wire put inside them to shape them like petals and leaves and then made into flowers and put in arrangements in colorful planters.

The clown who spoke to us goes around the world and performs on the street after disasters (9/11, Katrina, etc.) and in hospitals and orphanages. Now I'm not one of those people who completely freak out at the sight of clowns, but they do creep me out just a little. Especially when they come up behind me and start dusting me off with a feather duster. In fact, it would creep me out if anyone did that.

The clown spoke about friendship, had a few jokes and tricks, and we all sang songs together. (Think soundtrack to "Oh Brother, Where Art Thou" and you'll know some of the songs we sang.)

It was completely out of my comfort zone, but it was a new experience. I hope that we're not still here in a year, but if we are, I will be going to the annual Bickleton Ladies' Tea again.

Our Street

My husband grew up in a town called Boring, and yes, it's boring. But it's nothing compared to our town and street here.

Yesterday I looked up and saw the school's track team running down the street. I opened our front blinds and called my daughter over. She had a great time watching the kids run by.

And that is the most exciting thing we've ever seen on our street.