as spring arriveth, so too arriveth the primitives

[franksolich]

When I got up this morning circa 5:00 a.m., I noticed the temperature was 42 degrees and rising; it was still pretty cool, but I’ve waited so long for spring to come that despite that, I went out on the back porch to have coffee and a cigarette.

Usually I go back inside to get properly attired for the day about 6:00 a.m., but this was Saturday morning, and nobody had said they were coming out until later, and so I didn’t bother watching the clock, instead concentrating upon luxuriating in the fresh spring air while thinking about things.

It was about 8:00 a.m. before I finally got around to noticing something.

The other day, as the weather had gotten better, I’d hung out sheets, pillow-cases, and blankets on the line to air out, leaving them hanging there both day and night.  It doesn’t hurt them, airing out in the dark as well as the light.  True, we’d had snow two days before, but snow doesn’t hurt them; it means only that they’d have to hang out there longer, re-drying.

But one of the sheets had slipped off a clothes-pin, and was dragging on the ground.

I walked down the steps of the porch to pin it back up again.

While standing on the other side of the hanging sheet, I looked over to my side.

I had company.

It was an old hippie guy, looking very much like the W.C. Green primitive.

There were also two ancient hippie chicks with him, one looking very much like the In_the_Wind primitive, and the other, like the scrawny wrinkled old livetohike primitive.

For the moment, I was okay, because as already mentioned, I was on the other side of the sheet; however, there was going to be a problem if I moved, or they moved.

I looked down towards the river, seeing an old Dodge Camry over there, and small things scattered around as if they’d camped there during the night.

“We came here last night, hoping to ask, but your place was all dark, and we couldn’t,” the old hippie guy said. 

“It’s still pretty cool to be out camping,” I mentioned; “it’s a wonder you didn’t freeze last night.”

They were from Minnesota.

Oh.

“It’s a wonder you’re not freezing right now,” the old hippie guy said; “it’s only about 40 degrees, and here you are--”

“It was a rough winter,” I interrupted; “you guys from up over there are used to this sort of thing, but we aren’t.  From the last week of November all the way through the early part of March, it was constant constant constant sub-zero here--no snow, just really bitterly cold, and with wind--and everybody had to stay inside for damned near four months.

“It was like living in a dark hole in the ground; the bitter cold and wind was so life-threatening no one ventured out in it unless absolutely necessary.  One was cooped up inside, imprisoned.

“Well, it’s spring now, although a bit cool yet, and one badly needs liberated, aired out.”

“And that’s what you’re doing,” the old hippie guy said.

Uh oh, I thought; they had seen something.

Well, what’s been seen can’t be unseen, and so I took a deep breath and walked around to the other side of the hanging sheet.  The old hippie chick who looked very much like the livetohike primitive looked startled, while the old hippie chick who looked very much like the In_the_Wind primitive grimaced sourly.

Irritated at her unspoken disapproval, I said, “Look, we’re all out here in the middle of nowhere; nobody’s around.  It’s not as if there’s anybody who could be offended.”

She gave that unspoken “Well I never--” look, to which I replied, “Oh, but I’m sure you have, madam.”

I had gotten a haircut the day before, and by some hapless mishap, the barber had cut things a little too short, sort of--please notice the “sort of”--exposing that there were no ears on the sides of my head, and I felt awkward about that.

I made various “reasons” to bring my hands up to the sides of my head, meaning I had no hands left to cover anything else.  But at least I was shielding the important parts.

I walked back up the steps to the back porch, where I lit a new cigarette and stood there chitchatting a while longer with the old hippie guy (the two hippie chicks were taciturn, saying nothing).  Just general stuff, about the weather, their plans, and this place.  They were headed for the Black Hills, but had to first stop in Sioux City for a reason not grasped by me, which explained the slight detour.

The two hippie chicks came up on to the porch, as the livetohike primitive wanted to use the “powder room;” I gave her the directions and she walked inside.  The In_the_Wind primitive stayed where she was, still uncivilly examining me from head to toe.  It made me nervous, until I realized she wasn’t looking at anything she hadn’t seen before…..about forty years ago.

Oh well, I thought; one can’t please everybody. 

Just as I was finishing a fourth cigarette, the old hippie guy heard something, and said, “I think somebody’s coming up your road.”

“Probably the neighbor,” I said; “and so I have to go get dressed for people now.”

the end

[CollectivismMustDie]

Fun lol.

But uh...

Dodge Camry?


CMD

On edit: Is that the Platte river Coach?

The republican is looking better every day, even though they're letting water out of Harlan CO Lake for KS. We were in Kearney a few days ago, and the Platte was looking pretty good, though not what I could describe as full.

[Chris_]

Dodge Camry?

heh.

[franksolich]

Fun lol.

But uh...

Dodge Camry?

On edit: Is that the Platte river Coach?

The republican is looking better every day, even though they're letting water out of Harlan CO Lake for KS. We were in Kearney a few days ago, and the Platte was looking pretty good, though not what I could describe as full.

My mistake.  It was an older Dodge sedan, circa 1990-2000.  I just guessed the rest.

<<<no expert on the makes of automobiles, as Bad Dog here will affirm, probably because television commercials have never been any influence on this life.

It was a Dodge though, because I saw the logo on the front when later they drove up to the house to fill some jugs with water.  (I was looking closely so as to memorize the Minnesota license plate.)

That's the Elkorn River, looking north; the river's the western boundary of this property.

Usually one gets to the river by coming to the house here and then crossing a meadow, but there's also a dirt path along the river from the highway two miles north of here.

(These photographs aren't real recent; about five or so years old.)

There's no motels or hotels in this whole entire county, and so when one passes through, one either stays with family or friends, or camps out.  There's plenty of state- and county-owned camping areas, but as consumption of alcohol is banned on government property (a good thing, too) in Nebraska, if one wishes to do that sort of thing, one seeks out a private-property owner and asks permission to camp on his ground instead.

(I am not the owner of this property; I'm just the tenant.)

I'm usually agreeable, as nothing bad's ever happened here the nine years I've lived out here, but it obviously sometimes intrudes too much on my privacy.

[BlueStateSaint]

My mistake.  It was an older Dodge sedan, circa 1990-2000. 

Probably a Dodge Intrepid.

[vesta111]

Now you Frank have set me up to spring cleaning.  I carted out the feather spread and the commercial spread to air out on the deck in sun light and mild winds.   We are not allowed to have a clothes line and I just hang the sheets over the deck railing to soak up the air and sun that makes them smell good when dry.

Come summer a Filipino friend told me to  take the washings out after 15 minutes in the dryer and get them on a rack or hanger outside.

[franksolich]

Now you Frank have set me up to spring cleaning.

I'm going to do spring cleaning later this week, after I get back.

Take down all the plastic covering the windows, open wide the windows and doors, vaccuum the floors, and let the sun shine in.

This was a lousy winter, the worst winter Nebraska's had in my whole lifetime (despite what the Omaha World-Herald says), and probably the worst winter here in centuries.  There wasn't a whole lot of snow, but it was bitterly cold and windy for nearly four months straight, no let-up, no occasional random interruptions of two or three days with better conditions.....just an implacable unbroken deep freeze for nearly four months straight.

It was like living in an igloo here; warm inside, but dark and enclosed.  I almost went nuts.

[BattleHymn]

You had mentioned snow in the shoutbox on Thursday, Frank.  When is the latest you've seen snow while you have been watching the old house? 

[GOBUCKS]

When is the latest you've seen snow  

Once in Ohio the first week of May I had a golf league snowed out.

Not because of any accumulation, but visibility was so bad it was unsafe.

[BattleHymn]

Once in Ohio the first week of May I had a golf league snowed out.

Not because of any accumulation, but visibility was so bad it was unsafe.

I'm not a golfer, so I have to ask: how would snow make golfing unsafe?  Is there a danger of striking another player with a ball? 

[diesel driver]

Now you Frank have set me up to spring cleaning.  I carted out the feather spread and the commercial spread to air out on the deck in sun light and mild winds.   We are not allowed to have a clothes line and I just hang the sheets over the deck railing to soak up the air and sun that makes them smell good when dry.

Come summer a Filipino friend told me to  take the washings out after 15 minutes in the dryer and get them on a rack or hanger outside.

Same here, vesta.

I got the DR out this morning, I got about 2 acres to mow down, nothing but multifloral rose bushes and thumb-thick saplings, along with waist high grass.  Whole damned thing is a fire hazard, and too damned close to my house for my comfort.  But it's what I get for letting it sit untouched for 3 years.

[GOBUCKS]

I'm not a golfer, so I have to ask: how would snow make golfing unsafe?  Is there a danger of striking another player with a ball? 

It was snowing so heavily you couldn't see, like thick fog.

You have to be able to see that no one is in the fairway ahead.

We gave up after a half-hour or so, because there would not have been enough daylight left to finish.

[franksolich]

You had mentioned snow in the shoutbox on Thursday, Frank.  When is the latest you've seen snow while you have been watching the old house? 

We've finally had snow, nearly all of it in late March and early April, and when it's been 30-35 degrees.

Some pretty nice fallings.

We had one dusting of snow during the deep freeze; this was not a winter known for precipitation.

That snow you mentioned was the latest I can recall snow falling while I've lived here, but there's been other long-ago times, long-ago places, in Nebraska where I can recall snow falling as late as May, but rarely.

[obumazombie]

It is at least 10 degrees below normal in this neck of the woods.

[BattleHymn]

It is at least 10 degrees below normal in this neck of the woods.

I think your neck of the woods is right around the corner from my neck of the woods.  It's about ten degrees under average here as well. 

[obumazombie]

I think your neck of the woods is right around the corner from my neck of the woods.  It's about ten degrees under average here as well. 

Two necks...right together. It's like we're siamese !

[CollectivismMustDie]

My mistake.  It was an older Dodge sedan, circa 1990-2000.  I just guessed the rest.

<<<no expert on the makes of automobiles, as Bad Dog here will affirm, probably because television commercials have never been any influence on this life.

It was a Dodge though, because I saw the logo on the front when later they drove up to the house to fill some jugs with water.  (I was looking closely so as to memorize the Minnesota license plate.)

That's the Elkorn River, looking north; the river's the western boundary of this property.

Usually one gets to the river by coming to the house here and then crossing a meadow, but there's also a dirt path along the river from the highway two miles north of here.

(These photographs aren't real recent; about five or so years old.)

There's no motels or hotels in this whole entire county, and so when one passes through, one either stays with family or friends, or camps out.  There's plenty of state- and county-owned camping areas, but as consumption of alcohol is banned on government property (a good thing, too) in Nebraska, if one wishes to do that sort of thing, one seeks out a private-property owner and asks permission to camp on his ground instead.

(I am not the owner of this property; I'm just the tenant.)

I'm usually agreeable, as nothing bad's ever happened here the nine years I've lived out here, but it obviously sometimes intrudes too much on my privacy.

It is absolutely gorgeous. The wife and I hope to make it up that way some time this year, as that part of the state is the part we have seen the least of other than photos. We aren't sure of how or when though. Between travelling to Colorado Springs to see number 2 daughter, MN to see the parents, and the junk jaunt in september, we are going to be busy bees.

CMD

[franksolich]

It is absolutely gorgeous. The wife and I hope to make it up that way some time this year, as that part of the state is the part we have seen the least of other than photos. We aren't sure of how or when though. Between travelling to Colorado Springs to see number 2 daughter, MN to see the parents, and the junk jaunt in september, we are going to be busy bees.

If that junk jaunt is the one that runs south to north, it goes near here.  If that's the one you're talking about, it might be a prime opportunity.  There's lots of these "hundred-mile" or "two-hundred-mile" or "three-hundred-mile" "garage sales" in Nebraska.  I've never bothered, but if you're in the area, well.....

Two illustrations:

In reference to the grasswire primitive's comment in another thread about her "riverfront property," this is yet another reason franksolich can be a tenant on riverfront property in Nebraska, while it's highly doubtful Judy in Oregon has any such thing.

Nebraska has more miles of rivers (not all shown on the map here) than any other state in the union, including even much-larger states such as Alaska, Texas, California, Montana, &c., &c., &c.

And given Nebraska's much-smaller population, it's economically possible for even the poor to live on riverfront property, which is surely not the case in the pie-and-jam primitive's Oregon, especially right outside of Portland, that state's largest city.

(Disclaimer: I've never been to Oregon, so I can't say that for sure, but I'm pretty sure it's a fair statement.)

The seven distinct regions of Nebraska.  There's no scale for this map (and the one above that's distorted), but anyway, Nebraska's a shade less than 500 miles wide, about 300 miles from top to bottom.

I've lived in all seven regions, this one--"Lewis and Clark"--being the last, and current, one.  You of course live way down at the bottom, in the "Frontier Trails," black-dirt farming country.  I live at the top, on the borderline between "Lewis and Clark" and the "Sandhills," although I spent my youth in the heart of the Sandhills.  It's a mixture of farming and ranching country.

So.....if you're in the area.....but be careful not to show up between 10 p.m. and 6 a.m., when I'm usually sleeping (unless I'm warned beforehand, in which case it's cool).