HH SeptOct Issue 2024

CHUCK COLAS, D.O. FAMILY MEDICINE

Same-day and walk-in care.

For minor illnesses and health issues, Dr. Chuck Colas provides same-day and walk-in services.

From sore throats and �u symptoms to rashes and earaches, you can walk in without an appointment any weekday between 8 and 11:30 a.m. or schedule a same-day appointment for prompt medical attention. For more information or to schedule an appointment (same-day or otherwise), call 208.798.4818 or visit SJClinics.org/�nd-a-doctor.

222 Southway Ave. | Lewiston Suite A

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Happy fall, dear readers! I am so proud to present this issue that features several new writers and tasty recipes. You’ll read a wonderful call to action to bring the political divide together and some good old-fashioned junkin’ tips- as well as thoughtful pieces on the meaning of fall and the gift of the present moment.

As for me, I thought I’d talk about something closer to Halloween- masking. I’m not talking about the costumes or something to wear for public safety- I’m talking about hiding your true self!

I recently learned about what masking means, and I wanted to be brave and share a little bit about what it feels like to be authentic when you don’t feel like being it. You see, I have always been so open about anxiety- but since my mom died I’ve experienced something called caregiver burnout. I have been struggling to get back to being me. Smiling Heather- the woman who paints her front door a new color every month or always has a dream in her heart. I always loved sharing myself on social media and could always rely on my spunk to uplift others.

I started noticing awhile ago that I just…couldn’t…do…it. I haven’t felt overly positive so I haven’t been sharing on social media. I find I cry at random times so I try to make all of my meetings over email. I started isolating so I didn’t bring anyone down or burden anyone with my energy. I felt like I couldn’t fake it, and I wondered what people were doing when they didn’t spend most of their time alone, like me. How did they exist in the world when they were struggling? That’s when I learned that masking- hiding your true feeling but putting a smile on your face, among other things is how people get by.

What’s the worse that could happen if you revealed your struggles? It’s true- not everyone is emotionally intelligent or supportive. Sometimes you find the people you need the most might be the worst at it! But something wonderful happens- you begin to learn just who is right for you, and experiencing difficult times is nothing to be ashamed of.

Sometimes I think we all feel collectively safer when we’re all smiling, saying everything is fine and not needing anything- but that’s the scariest mask you can wear. It might sound terrifying to ask for support, to shed a tear in a random aisle at the grocery store, or to ask for grace from co-workers as you navigate less than Positive Patty vibes. Turns out, there’s room for realness. Life: we’ve all been living it. We’ve all been frazzled and exhausted. Perhaps if we see someone struggling with overwhelm, sadness, anger or anxiety we could all think back to a time when we felt alone and extend that service of compassion to another.

I will always be grateful to you for reading this magazine, for being kind, and for being the best part of this community. As we head into these colder months, I hope you remember that it’s ok to not be ok. It might not always feel like it, but there must be room for all seasons in your life as is experienced on this beautiful earth.

The authentic you is beautiful. It’s real. It doesn’t need to be perfect or always smiling, so leave that mask behind. You are worthy of love regardless.

Love,

Heather Niccoli Editor-In-Chief Home&Harvest Magazine

Senescence by

E

Jacqueline Cruver

Earthy aromas like pitch, sage and soil smell absolutely wonderful to me. In the fall nature has the ability to even release a pleasant scent from death. That sweet smell of withering leaves has brought to mind a long ago fall, that was truly like no other. It was before I had any concept of my passions or knew the reason moonlight talked to me through my bedroom window. It was the fall that a fortuitous shift from one environment to another ended my life as I knew it. My thoughts, words and deeds were forever altered as was my wardrobe. You see, it was the fall I transformed from a city dweller to the denim-clad nature lover I am today.

It had been months since I’d cast off from college and I was still chasing waterfalls, in other words going nowhere but down. Staring out into the night on my evening commute, I absentmindedly wondered if there was something better out there beyond what was illuminated by the city lights. When the end of summer dropped like a curtain closing after the last act and my cashier job came to an abrupt end, I took a deep bow and made my exit. I just wanted to be far away from the traffic jams of concrete jungles and by chance or astral influence, fate dropped me in a remote recreation focused area hours from any city.

I snagged a waitress job and an adequate rental by the end of the week. From the first moment I arrived the scenery was purely hypnotic. The entire side of the forested mountain rising above the tiny burg displayed a random array of fall colors. The tamarack was turning to brilliant yellow and dispersed deciduous trees were ablaze in crimson and amber among the evergreens. The expanse of trees made the air smell fresh like it had just been washed. It was pure and alive and tasted clean and sweet.

I was warned that the temperature would soon be dropping with the dying leaves so with help from some woodsmen I quickly learned the art of stacking firewood for the winter.

Although a novice, I found the mandatory task to be great fun.

There was something about the sound of the seasoned wood chinking together as it was tossed. It had a timbre, a music-like quality. The smell was woodsy and mixed well with my Eau de Sweat cologne. Proudly standing back and measuring the twelve foot long, four foot high completed stockade gave me a significant sense of security that negated the throbbing of a slightly smashed finger inside my leather glove. Rookie.

Those first days in my new surroundings I just couldn’t see enough. I walked the railroad tracks looking up at the towering craggy rock pinnacles from different angles and studied the wild wilderness stretching above and below me. After dark, in the absence of street lights, the stars were dazzling when the clouds allowed it. I felt certain I could lasso the moon on those first nights. I reveled in my exciting episode of Girl Meets World. I was so wide-eyed and open to discovery that the days seemed to wind to a close soon after they began. I had no sense of negative thoughts. They just weren’t sanctioned. I only anticipated wonderment. One perspective could have been that I was adrift, dangerously naive and vulnerable. Instead, I see it as my youthful innocence allowed me to remain oblivious to the tedious and groundless question, “What could go wrong?” which allowed me to find beauty and awe in everything. I observed with unbiased eyes, finding only goodness around me, including a cast of very unique individuals.

We’ll get you home.

“There is no such thing as a weird human being.

It’s just that some people require more understanding than others.” -Tom Robbins I’d like to start with Teri. I know it is a good idea to change the names to protect the innocent but if you ever traveled in the area of which I am reminiscing, you would know who I am talking about even if I called her by an alias because she was the only young woman frequently spotted walking on the shoulder of the rainy mountain highway in a long sleeved full body wetsuit and there were no opportunities for water sports anywhere in the area besides rain. She wouldn’t appear to be hitchhiking since there was rarely a wide space for a vehicle to stop so she just kept walking. Come to think of it, It may have been posted that hitchhiking was prohibited but if you happened to pass her where there was space to safely pull over she would cheerfully accept a ride. She emitted a content confidence in her attire, which always included sandals and never socks. When I asked her about that, the one time I shuttled her up a section of the road on a very rainy day like most, her answer made perfect sense. They would get wet. Some things-

-just have no reason to question. Teri, if you are out there somewhere, I thank you for being such a stunning example of living free from the judgment of others and I hope you have been well blessed in your travels.

At a much lower elevation from my new roost was an unmarked roadside attraction that I passed going up and down the mountain for supplies. To outside eyes, it was a tiny abandoned diner. To a random handful of seasoned homesteaders and harmless hooligans, I am not sure how many, it was a secret gathering place. After being personally introduced to the couple inside by a regular, I realized I had been accepted into an elite ring of self-proclaimed outcasts. Not in terms of being cast out of anywhere, but more like being selected by some ethereal authority to have the pleasure of knowing the aging couple. If the windows were steamed up on a dreary cold day, I could venture in to find conversation and a home cooked meal offered with no bill. I would of course pay a sum but it was never established and never expected. Rarely would more than one visitor arrive at a time, as though the universe controlled the timing. Shaking the rain from my coat and wiping my boots on the inside mat, Ethel would greet me warmly by name, stepping away from the worn spot of floor where she always stood stirring something on the stove, to embrace me like a loving nanna, into her stout but soft apron covered full figure. She would tip her chin up to look through her glasses, often fogged up to match the windows and hand me a big serving of the day’s special. Her husband, Sid would invite me to sit at his table and offer his latest riddle then with twinkling eyes, charm me with an interesting story or little known fact. It was impossible to not smile back at his beaming freckled face, chiseled with deep laugh lines and radiating contagious joy.

The kitchen and small serving area served as the couple’s living space during the day. They would lock the door, retiring to a small camp trailer in the back each night. I am a watcher, and I saw much in these visits. The invasive blackberry vines were beginning to show that time was skipping faster than the couple could keep up. They both had health issues that could be put aside while the lively guests brought welcomed distraction in a warm visit but frailty was showing through. If one looked into the eyes of these two beautiful elders, you’d recognize that the love they shared would bind and hold them through to the last steps of their journey and beyond. I knew there would come a day that I would revisit this area and not see any lights or warmth behind those windows and the tiny trailer completely unnoticeable beneath berry vines would miss their soft voices in the night.

The place I called home during this mystical fall was on a bumpy road with only two other occupied homes. Both families had children and drove them to the nearest school. The household that interested me most was the farthest down the road. The front porch was framed with logs, making the otherwise unremarkable abode look quite rustic and unique. An intimidating German Shepherd was always on alert in a sphinx position, ironically on a large ‘welcome’ mat. There were more than several attractive hand hewn birdhouses with branch perches on posts around the yard and on the few days it wasn’t raining there would be some type of animal hide stretched-

Home&Harvest | Sept + Oct 2024

-on a frame being processed. Soft spoken Steve was more thanwilling to tell me about his technique of using urine to soften them but I admit I was more curious about his wife’s reaction to such practices. I’d only catch glimpses of her in early morning departures and afternoon arrivals donning high heels and red, red lipstick for a career she commuted endless hours to keep.

Their young daughter was taxied to school by her dad, the primary home person. This role reversal was still a rarity in the seventies. I theorized that they’d dedicated a good amount of time negotiating before finding a solution that would allow both of them to pursue their own passions but it appeared they had amiably worked out the necessary compromises.

They had created the life they loved and loved the life they lived, to borrow a phrase from Bob Marley. Their daughter loved all the hours with her dad and as out of place as high heels and tailored business suits seemed out on a dusty gravel road, her mother was always smiling when she returned to her front door. Maybe the rural life across the tracks offered just the right buffer from her high stress job. The tracks themselves offered more than a buffer when the train blocked the tracks, causing Steve to wait patiently to access the highway to respond to his EMT calls. Seated behind the wheel for lengthy waits I swear I could still see his contented smile.

In the opposite direction was one more occupied structure, albeit a very unconventional one.

A little farther down the tracks was an abandoned processing plant housed in a metal structure of some notable height and considerable rust. It was referred to as “chicken grit” by the boy and his father who were squatting in it when I arrived. I am not sure if they had been attempting to get the equipment running again or if that had been dismissed long ago as an impossible option. The clothes they wore were worn very thin and I noticed the layers were increasing as fall became more chilly by the day. The unmended holes suggested that they lived on next to nothing. I offered them some hearty leftovers I brought home from the restaurant once but they declined with obvious pride and I never tried again. They rarely ventured out but would wave a friendly greeting when I’d see them taking a stroll together on the tracks in the evening. They walked at an unhurried pace and talked lightheartedly together in a similarly slow cadence with a thick southern drawl. If they noticed I was out carrying bulky supplies in from my car or under the hood they would unfailingly offer to help. On a day not too long after I arrived they came by carrying worn rucksacks to offer thier good-byes as they were going to head south before the harsh winter settled in.

When I asked where they were headed the son said they weren’t quite sure but they were going to enjoy finding out. I wished them well as I watched them thumb a ride to the next chapter of their lives and hoped they would find good things on their new road. They didn’t seem to show any sign of apprehension or uncertainty. Acceptance of each moment and each day with grace was clearly a lesson they had both learned well and I made a mental note of how that looked.

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“I will change with the season.”

“The greatness of a man is not in how much wealth he acquires, but in his integrity and his ability to affect those around him positively.” - Bob Marley I am not sure how the next tenant got wind of the primitive housing known as chicken grit but one day a sprightly middle aged man walking past, stopped and introduced himself with some difficulty speaking fluent english. He was dressed in clean, simple but well made clothing, and hard years were visible on his face. During the following weeks he stopped by a few times and shared the heat of the woodstove and a few brief stories of his homeland in Romania, dandelion wine, and that he’d lost his home and family in a severe flood. I believe he may have been wandering for years. He carried himself as a man who had led quite a different existence in his past. He was generous with compliments but not details about himself.

He never stayed long enough to be intrusive in any way and excused himself with politeness. On a day he must have determined right, to relieve his restless spirit he disappeared. He offered no farewell and I did not take offense to it. I respected his need to not share details of his present or future, and me being too naive to harbor suspicions or condemn him for not paying taxes, I only recognized our brief and simple acquaintance as meeting someone interesting from a far away place.

There was one more memorable presence although I never met him. The small house I rented in this hamlet had an attic and I wanted to see if I was sharing the place with mice or packrats so I went up to take a peek. I found only a very dusty cardboard box and a few old books. One of them was a diary. I sat holding it, trying to decide if I should open it or not. It was so old and intriguing. I gave in. I just had to. I carefully untied the thin ribbon and opened the dark green cover. It belonged to a man, but I was not sure how he was related to the elderly woman who rented me the house. I wondered if anyone knew it was up there. I ever so carefully brought it down the handhewn ladder. The pages revealed all of the man’s obvious pleasures. There were bread recipes, records of visitors, garden yields that were incredible to me, work done on the outbuilding that was once the original house, and very precise directions to trails in the higher country and remote cabins and hunting spots. It was an intimate record of his years in this home. I could picture him in the kitchen baking bread. I imagined him wandering up through the wilderness to a stocked hunting cabin for a seasonal hunt about this time of year and resting his worn wood frame pack against a built-in cot to get out some bread and jot some notes in the green diary. I felt I had become friends with him without permission. I know Wiley through those pages of hand scribbled notes recording his personal history and his life made a lasting impact on mine. I had put down my diary some years before and admiring this man’s efforts to capture precious moments of his life inspired me to start journaling again. Whenever I travel that mountain highway I still imagine him hiking high above over those forested ridges.

The memory of all these characters still lingers in my thoughts because in those first experiences being out on my own, I was forming my own views and perspectives. I had merely walked past the throngs of people in the busy streets of a crowded-

- city because being placed so closely together one tends to block everyone out to quiet the chaos.

In this setting, face to face our relationship with one another easily developed from the nature of kindness. We saw one another through unbiased eyes with no judgment, only acceptance. I have never forgotten the degree of fondness I felt toward those folks or the intense gladness I felt to be alive and the rewards of having the ability to regard people and opportunities with unguarded optimism is a significant insight I gained from the experience. I don’t want to believe I have lost sight of it. I believe it’s asleep in my archives somewhere and I want to awaken it.

Although Euripedes lived 2,400 years ago, he had a thought about what we carry within us that I believe is still relevant.

We will have to forgive him for using only the term ‘man’.

Things were different then but I still agree with his thought; “The best and safest thing is to keep a balance in your life, acknowledge the great powers around us and in us. If you can do that, and live that way, you are really a wise man”. I hear this to say that there is power in the insights I collect and I must balance them with the overwhelming powers around me.

The Autumn Equinox arrives on September 22. For several days the length of daylight is nearly equal to the amount of night’s darkness on the equator and the perfect time to think about balance in my life. When I was cleaning my gutters recently I had to be mindful of staying balanced on the ladder.

My yoga poses only provide a means to stretch and strengthen my body when I am in balance. If I am tipping to one side I am unsteady and get wobbly, tumble and fall. My moral equilibrium can be unsteady also. When my self-image as a good person is not in harmony with what I am actually doing I need to shift more toward center.

Looking to the natural world for answers, I will change with the season. Nature releases leaves in fall so I will make like a tree and ‘leaf ’. I am going to imagine I am a mature tree with a stunning structure made of strong, uniform branches formed from the valuable insights I have collected from my encounters, relationships and travels. Covering these stately branches are leaves approaching the end of their season. I will visualize them as bits of me I no longer need that I can allow to flutter away in the wind, making room for the new buds that will soon form.

I will start with all of those unfounded worries, letting them drop away to the ground unverified and in the buds of new growth find ways to only anticipate grace and goodness.

I’d like to drop a bushel basket of nagging regrets and lingering disappointments and discover how to take responsibility for my choices and improve my acceptance of what is.

I want to shake the tree free of unrealistic expectations of myself and others and learn to be patient and pleasantly surprised with what happens.

The last stubborn leaves must be my tendencies to mistrust and misjudge. If I can release these I will avoid the countless errors I make from baseless suspicions. Perhaps the new buds will encourage and nourish my strength to trust.

When all of the leaves on my imaginary tree finally drop away, I will have the winter to examine my branches and select insights that will promote balanced and beneficial growth. I know I may not be completely successful but I can take comfort in knowing the whole process can unfold again next fall.

I think you would agree that it’s difficult to find all the things we have hidden in the shroud of our leaves, our thick layers of defenses to protect ourselves. Just like me, that angry driver or person walking across the street, someone shopping in the same aisle of the store, or talking too loudly in the restaurant all hide many stories in branches that I cannot see. When I remember this trait of being human, it’s much easier to judge less and bless more.

The endless interactions with others are exhilarating at times and trying at times. I often turn to nature to regain balance and flee to the sounds of the other forms of life. My ears long to hear hidden crickets, a ‘whooting’ conversation between owls or the scolding of a tiny but sassy chipmunk. The wild things that hide from our view in nature necessitate caution but do not solicit worries, regrets, disappointments or mistrust. The wild places know how to stay in balance. I view the magnitude of mysteries there through eyes of awe and respect, just as I did that first time I escaped to that tranquil little hamlet in the mountains. It was a profoundly different environment that allowed me to see everything as wondrous and new.

Maybe in nature I am still that child seeing things through unbiased eyes and innocence because there’s still so much to question and even when I question, it sometimes remains without understanding. Why does a trillium emerge from the forest floor in one given year then skip years before returning?

How does a swarm of thousands of ladybugs, poetically called a loveliness of ladybirds in the United Kingdom, find each other to huddle together for warmth in the duff of the forest floor?

Why do I feel less alone in the peace of nature than I do in crowded people-places? Wait, I think I’ve got this one. Perhaps it is because I feel accepted as myself in the places where just the sun and the moon hold me in loving arms.

“The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Everyday it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.”

-Tehereh Mafi (a best selling author)

“ The moon is a loyal companion”

TEACHING With Purpose Family Values Part 7

By Laura L. Morgan

Have you ever known someone who, in a positive way, had a lasting impact on multitudes of people? Someone who, when you mention their name, people gush with adoration and immediately launch into fond memories and, without prompting, tell how much that person impacted their lives.

The year was 1950. Frances Maib walked across the stage at the University of Washington to accept a hard-won, much toiled over, fancily inscribed piece of paper that pronounced her Dr. Frances Maib, PhD in Education. She wasn’t who she was because of that piece of paper, nor was she what she would become because of it. Her diploma was validation of the importance of education in her life. In that year, only .62 of the doctorate degrees in a thousand was earned by a woman. Only twenty-one percent of college students at that time were female. She was a pioneer in education. She took a teaching position as a professor at the University of Idaho in Moscow and by 1964, she had won an Outstanding Faculty Award. Retiring in 1978, she earned Professor Emeritus status. There used to be a plaque in the hallowed halls of the University of Idaho before a remodel that was dedicated to her service.

Her parents were Melvin and Iona Bishop, farmers and dairy ranchers who instilled a love of learning in their children. Frances and her sister Afton would both become teachers. Afton still tutors students even though she is over ninety years old. Frances had a daughter, Dawn, who became a teacher after earning her master’s degree in education. Dawn married Jim Morgan. Through Frances’s help and encouragement, Jim was the first in his family to go to college and earn a degree—in education. He even did correspondence courses when he was at sea while enlisted in the Navy, to carry him toward completing his master’s. Jim was an amazing first-grade teacher in Wenatchee, Washington, for many years. At one point there was a newspaper article about him as he was a rarity. Jim was the only male first-grade teacher in the whole state. Years later, when his former first grade students were seniors, they were given a prompt to write about the most influential person in their lives. Several wrote about Mr. Morgan, their first-grade teacher!

Jim and Dawn had two sons and a daughter. All three are in education. Trent, my husband, is now an associate professor at Lewis Clark State College in the nursing program after a long and successful first career as a nurse anesthesiologist. He is married to me—a teacher. Trent recalls as a youngster, how he would visit the U of I campus and know that his grandmother, Dr. Maib, was an important person there. “She would bring me to work with her and everyone seemed to know her. All the sharply-dressed professors and all the energetic students would come up to her and say hello or want to ask a question or talk about something.”

Her specialty was children’s literature, and Trent remembers her reading to him on road trips. “She inspired a love of reading (in me) on those long trips. She found one author, William O. Steele, with short stories.” These tales were about a young boy living adventures and Trent became that boy on those pages as he heard the words read aloud. He recalls how later, as a distracted teenager, he would walk to her house after school where she would first feed him, then give him an outlet for his energy (things like chopping wood). “Then the stage was set for learning.” Trent relates how her love for learning was contagious and it “remains with me to this day.” Trent’s own educational journey led him to earn a Master of Science degree in nurse anesthesia.

Lana, Trent’s sister, is a beloved first-grade teacher herself. She recalls many stories of people who Frances helped in their learning journeys. She fondly remembers helping out in her dad’s classroom and states that she “always wanted to teach.”

Rhett, their younger brother, was a teacher, now a vice principal and director of Title I. He was fairly young when Frances passed away, but he remembers her “feeding me cinnamon toast and reading to me.” Hmm. Remember my previous articles about the importance of reading? Here is real-life proof. We recently came across a letter from Trent’s great uncle Dave. He had written it from the battlefields of Vietnam, asking Jim to help him get correspondence courses for him so he could pass his GED. All of these people recognized the importance of education and pursued knowledge. Do you notice how this value was passed on from generation to generation? Education, when valued by parents and taught to their children, is a life-changing value.

School has just started back up, so now is the perfect time to consider education as a family value. There are so many benefits that I don’t have time nor space to list them all, but let’s look at a few.

First and foremost, I would encourage parents to create a mindset in their children that learning is valuable. As a teacher, I sometimes hear groaning about having to learn something that a youngster thinks he or she will never need to know. I counter with, “How do you know?” Help your kids think of education as an opportunity to soak as much in to their memory vaults as possible. Some of it will be filed away for future use, and some is immediately relevant.

Education increases critical thinking and problem-solving skills.

I don’t need to explain that these are important. If a person doesn’t learn to think critically, he will be duped and led astray by lies, or she will not be able to discern correct information and thus make poorly thought-out decisions. Personal growth comes from critical thinking. A person is able to do objective self-evaluation and reflection in order to better themselves.

What did I do that resulted in a positive outcome? What could I do better next time? What do I need to stop doing to improve performance? Everyone needs problem-solving skills. Life is about dealing with problems—working through them with grit and resilience—and that is a positive thing. Duke’s head basketball coach, Kara Lawson, has a great speech to her players on YouTube where she explains to them that life is hard. She claims a person just needs to “handle hard better.” What a great concept. You should look it up and watch it. Problem-solving skills at their best.

Home&Harvest | Sept + Oct 2024

For the last three years, I taught Careers to eighth graders.

Education, whether through college or a trade school, hands a person many more opportunities, and those opportunities often come with higher wages. Statistics show a direct relationship between higher education and better wages. Who wouldn’t want success for their offspring? High school dropouts recently earned $12,683 less a year than students who graduated high school. Learning can be difficult at times and young people need support and encouragement not only from their teachers, but from parents and grandparents. Anecdotally, as a teacher I see the difference it makes when a family values education. Keep up the good work if you are one of those parents!

A holding tank full of knowledge and the ability to learn instills confidence in a person. Teach your kids how to learn, and they will be life-long learners. Start by modeling an eagerness for education. Talk about learning on the job and what it means to you. Show that you value personal-growth learning: taking a class, reading books, listening to podcasts.

One of the most important components of education is one’s reading ability. I’ve already written about the importance of reading, so I’ll give you some statistics to mull over. The average reading level of offenders in a juvenile delinquency facility is fourth grade. Seventy percent of adult prison inmates cannot read at a fourth-grade level. There you have it. Education reduces crime and creates safer environments.

The more educated one is, typically the better communicator the person is. Communication in society is key. We are relational beings and are required to communicate in a myriad of ways and for various purposes. If your family values education, your children will learn to be better communicators. Begin by teaching them how to interact appropriately with their peers. Next, instruct them on how to communicate with adults—things like speaking clearly and having eye contact. Once they know how, have them order their own food at a restaurant.

A previous Home&Harvest article of mine on work ethic is so relevant to education. Help your children build that resiliency to keep at it when an assignment is difficult. Teach them about and hold them accountable to the notion of deadlines and the importance of meeting them. Model how to take pride in one’s work and in a job well done. Reward a commitment to education in a way that best suits your child’s personality and needs.

Education modernizes society. Where would we be, especially regarding technology, if no one was learning, then going beyond and continuing to learn? Those who have a hunger for knowledge drive inventions and innovations. As parents, we can help our children explore various interests. One of our daughters thought she might want to be a veterinarian, so we encouraged her to learn more about it and to do a job shadow to see what it truly was like in this profession. Parents are important advocates for their children, seeking out and setting up opportunities. If it doesn’t pan out in the end, your son or daughter has still learned some essential lessons along the way. All of the knowledge and experiences our children gain help to form who they are and what they do in life. Make it a rich environment for them, one that can sprout a future love or be fertilizer that enhances what blooms later.

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Another thing parents can do to help create a positive view of education is to find out how it would be for a kid in another country or culture. When their youngsters read about a girl who was shot for advocating that females can get an education, that may help change a perspective or at least make them think more deeply about the subject and hopefully be more grateful for their own opportunities. A couple of years ago, I was privileged to participate in a mission trip to Mexico. There I had a wonderful chance to have a long conversation with a young lady I will call Maria. I was so moved by her story that I asked permission to tell it to my students. Maria spoke of a childhood in poverty and of a broken family. She explained how the education system was woefully inadequate. After dropping out for a spell, she began to realize that getting a real education was her only way out of a less-than-ideal situation. She went back to school but said she wasn’t learning enough, so she got some textbooks and taught herself. The year I was listening to her story, she was attending the university, had a good job and a bright future. She realized the value of education.

“ help our children understand how much they have in the freedom to get an education, and that it is a privilege ” I used to do a book talk for my students, a real-life story about a boy named Martin Ganda. The book is called I Will Always Write Back: How One Letter Changed Two Lives. It chronicles his life in Africa, living in a dirt-floored hut that had one room for his entire family, not having money for medicine when his mother was ill, carrying luggage to the bus stop for paltry coins so he could pay to go to school. Because. He knew how important learning was. Then, he got a pen pal letter from a girl named Caitlin who lived in Pennsylvania. It is a heart-warming story of their friendship and how it impacted both of their lives. At the heart of it is Martin’s tight-fisted hold to the idea that education would change his life’s trajectory. Today, he is the president and co-founder of New Africa Foundation. He has degrees in mathematics and economics from Villanova University and an MBA in finance from Duke University. He has worked at Goldman Sachs and Deutsche Bank in New York. Education has changed not only him but his entire family. Knowing stories such as these can help our children understand how much they have in the freedom to get an education, and that it is a privilege. That it is important and relevant.

Education is not exclusively relegated to public, private, or home schools. Parents are unique educators. How fun is it to pass down knowledge from an ancestor on how to do a certain type of woodworking or to teach your kids how to make a family recipe? Remember, you are your children’s best teachers. Begin young, be intentional, model positive attitudes, and value learning yourself. The world will be a better and safer place for it.

I wish I would’ve had the honor of meeting Dr. Maib, but she passed away when Trent and I had just started dating. I know she would be so proud of her three grandchildren, pouring out their love on another generation of students, making a difference by being amazing educators. “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world” (Nelson Mandela). Use education to win the battle for your children.

I

Its bittersweet to see something come full circle and know that you have stayed with it through the passing of an era. I’m amazed looking back at all the issues of Home&Harvest, and proud to have been writing about my love of grilling through all these years.

Its humbling to hear just how many of you have upped your grilling game along with me, because please believe that as I was working on new recipes and new topics, I was certainly getting more skilled along the way as well. This issue, September/October 2024, is the final in this year’s series with a full 10 years now passed.

I can only wonder where Home&Harvest Magazine will be 10 more years from now!

And I am honored that you all kept reading all this time. Another cycle around the sun, another year in the history books, and another fall issue going out on the racks. Its amazing how just as a cycle finishes a new one begins and we move on, always growing.

But I want to ask you to ignore the month printed on the spine of this magazine, and turn your attention instead to the thermometer. Still feels like we are in the middle of summer, doesn’t it? While it might be the start of autumn, I know I’ll still be enjoying the sunshine and longing for more summer recipes for weeks to come, and I hope you will as well!

I want to keep summer going just a little longer. I want something Mediterranean in feel – maybe with a nice, cool white wine or bright summer beer. Sun on my face, just the first breath of fall breeze, and tough call on sticking with shorts for one more weekend, or digging out jeans for the first time since all of this heat first came knocking in May. And along with the vibes, I want to stretch a little and grill, just on the edge of most people’s comfort zones. Nothing overly complicated, or daunting – just a recognizable departure from the burgers/brats that I know you perfected so very long ago. I’m thinking fish for our main. Maybe a Tilapia, Mahi-Mahi, or even Cod. Pino Grigio, Sauvignon Blanc, or even a Riesling ready to pour as we come off the grill – substituted for Pilsner or Kolsch if you have aversions to the corked spirits. Either way, just have it cold, have a little shade ready in case the sun stays angry late into the day, and get adventurous with those side dishes. We have been at this together for 10 full years, we have all come a long way in our grilling techniques, and it’s a perfect time to salute the journey and enjoy this beautiful Palouse shoulder season sunshine.

Let me be honest, yet again dear readers, I learned to grill mostly by mistake. Not one mistake that led to a love of learning and study, but mistake after mistake that eventually built an understanding and fostered all the data collection needed for some serious grill research. I can say this without shame – I have left fish on a grill!

No, I’m not referring to opening that wine early and forgetting that it was cooking. I’m talking about that dreaded fish-flip. You know the one, when it seems like everything is going perfectly.

The top has a glistening sheen and is transferring to a completely opaque state. The smell is incredible, and you just know that it will be the perfect time to flip. You slide that spatula under the corner and it seems to release easily. You breath a sigh of relief, press the full way under and execute a perfect wrist-roll only to discover that about half of the fillet has remained completely glued to the grill surface. You have totally ruined that side of the fillet. It now won’t cook properly without burning the torn pieces or undercooking the sections that remain at the original thickness. And worst of all, the bits clinging to the original location have become a grill obstacle that can’t be placed below any other items and will surely burn to an acrid crisp long before your cook is done.

I ran from this problem. I turned to cedar planking as my only escape. I bought expensive fish-specific specialty spatulas and tongs. I upped my levels of oil to the point that it just smoked and ruined the flavor. I swore that I “liked a little char for the extra flavor,” and I even tried to hide the problem by cooking without a flip and then putting that chunky side down on the plate. I’ve sauced, I’ve heaped sides atop the fillet, I’ve even given up on fish at times. I tell you friends that I had tried it all.

But I love to grill fish. So, I went back to basics – first a simple foil pouch with some lemon and onion inside that couldn’t stick. Then trying varying types of woods and fish and working on keeping them from sticking too hard to the board. Finally, to skin-down grilling without a flip. And then, after unlocking the formula to a perfectly grilled fillet I finally came full circle and returned to where I started. Being able to do lighter fish and include a flip! No lock-up, no embarrassing cover stories or hiding the end product. This weekend, I want you to fire up the grill and try it with me.

As homage to the onion and lemon in the foil packet (a technique my Dad taught me the first time I ever caught a trout on a fly line) I want to make something a little funky and fun. So grab a few Tilapia fillets, a sweet Walla-Walla onion, a few fresh lemons, and your beverage of choice. Light the coals or start the gas, and give about 20 minutes to personal relaxation as the grates get to temp.

Starting with the fish, we want to have skinless fillets of whatever variety you choose. Fresh is always best! Rub olive oil very liberally on both sides. Remember that olive oil does have a lower smoke point, but we are going to be quick and should be able to keep it from any issues of flame or smoking. If you decide to try something with a longer cook just swap out to a more stable oil. For this recipe however I want to reinforce that Mediterranean theme so I’ll take the slight risk. Once oiled, hit them with salt and pepper to taste (if you are newer to grilling, remember that ALL proteins need more salt that you would suspect when cooking over open flame). Finally, sprinkle over some fennel seeds. I would do about a tablespoon for 4-5 fillets.

That is far more than if I was seasoning for the table, but we can expect some to fall off each side during the grilling and flip. You can let this rest for a few minutes in the fridge while you get the onion started.

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Leaving the outer skin on is what will make this so fun and unique! Just toss a few of those babies on the grill – high heat and directly over the largest section of flame. We are going to let them run for 15-18 minutes and that starts the clock for the rest of the cook. Time everything to the idea that the fish will need around 2 minutes to rest before eating, so that’s just enough time to plate. The onions will need to cool a little as well, but just enough to remove that completely charred outer skin. I keep the lid on for almost all of the cook, and expect to rotate them a few times as the fish goes on and flips.

For the lemons, we are going lay them on their sides and cut them in half so that the perfectly round section can face down, and the tips will stand up in the air. They go flesh-down on the grill, making sure to use a clean and lightly oiled spot that isn’t directly over a large flame. The lemons should only need about 4 minutes so I put them down just before I flip the fish and leave them until the very end after I’ve pulled the fish.

The fillets will need 4 minutes on the first side, and 3-4 minutes after the flip. Are you ready for the secret that I took years to perfect? Throw out your fancy fish-flipper-doodad, and put on a timer or a really good song that is four minutes. Relax.

Seriously, just relax a little. Open that bottle of wine or one of the beers. Turn your face to the sun. Take deep breaths. Throw your phone in the bushes. Ignore the world around you and just be.

Its opening the lid on the grill, doing little test runs of putting a spatula under, forgetting to thoroughly clean the grates, and skimping on the oil that causes fish to stick. That’s it folks. Keep the lid closed all 4 minutes, don’t check, don’t test, don’t worry.

Just be.

At four minutes remove the lid, drop on the lemons, and flip those perfect fillets like a boss. I hope you have friends over that know a thing or two about grilling when you pull this move. I hope you see the shock in their face, and the drop in their jaw.

You just graduated to the professional level of grilling. Go ahead and bask in the glory for just second. Seriously, just a second – you need to close that lid!

Check them at just over 3 minutes and get the onions off immediately. Give the fish an extra minute if needed, then pull the lemons last. Just before you serve, put a pat of garlic butter on each fillet, and then sprinkle them with dried, chopped black olives for that ultimate luxurious feel. If you really want to impress and take the flavors up you can even add just a little anchovy paste to melt along with the butter. The onion is cut in half and eaten as it is. The lemon becomes a perfect garnish and chance to squees some extra flavor over the entire plate as you eat. You’re going to love the way the sweet onion plays with that acidic blast from the grilled lemon. Its like a foil packed but all grown up. Perfect with a grown-up beverage and some good company!

Thanks for reading! Thanks especially for always trying something new. And know that I’ll be thinking of you the next time I fire up the grill. Above all else, please just keep putting flank to flame every time you get the opportunity.

APPLE CIDER Donut Cake KITCHEN SarA Raquet INGREDIENTS 1 c granulated sugar 1/2 c light brown sugar 1 c applesauce, room temperature (chunky works best) 1 c apple cider, room temperature 3 large eggs, room temperature 3/4 c coconut oil, melted 2 tsp vanilla extract 3 c all-purpose flour 1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon 1 1/2 tsp baking powder 1/2 tsp baking soda 1/2 tsp kosher salt 1/4 tsp ground nutmeg Baking spray with flour Topping 1/4 c unsalted butter, melted ¼ cup sugar 1 teaspoon cinnamon STEPS For the cake: Preheat the oven to 350°F. In a large bowl, whisk together granulated sugar, light brown sugar, applesauce, apple cider, eggs, coconut oil , and vanilla until well combined. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, 1 1/2 teaspoons of cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and nutmeg until well combined. Gradually stir the flour mixture into the apple cider mixture, mixing until just combined. Spray a 10- to 12-cup Bundt pan with baking spray with flour. Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Bake until a wooden pick comes out with a few moist crumbs, 50 to 55 minutes. Let the cake cool for 10 minutes in the pan. Place a wire rack over a rimmed baking sheet.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl, combine the remaining 1/4 cup of granulated sugar with 1 teaspoon of cinnamon. Invert the warm cake onto the prepared rack. Brush the cake with the melted butter and sprinkle it thoroughly with the cinnamon sugar, pressing to adhere. Let the cake cool completely before slicing and serving.

HOMEMADE

pumpkin spice Sauce KITCHEN Heather Niccoli

A few years ago, I learned how to make homemade pumpkin spice sauce and it has been so much fun adding it to my iced or hot coffees, drizzling it on brownies, or occasionally eating it with a spoon. It’s SO EASY and super delicious!

INGREDIENTS 2 cans sweetened condensed milk 1 15 oz can pumpkin puree 1 Tbl pumpkin pie spice 1 Tbl brown sugar STEPS Combine ingredients into a small saucepan and cook over low-medium heat, whisking until well combined. Remove from heat and transfer to your storage container. Keep refrigerated. Use in lattes, syrups, baking, etc. Get spooky and spicy with it!

INGREDIENTS

GHOST GHOST GHOST

Chocolate Cupcakes 2 ½ c all purpose flour ⅓ c natural unsweetened cocoa powder ½ tsp baking soda 1 tsp baking powder 1 tsp salt ½ c unsalted butter, room temperature 1 ½ c granulated sugar 3 oz bittersweet chocolate baking bar, melted 2 large eggs, room temperature 1 c buttermilk, room temperature ½ c hot strong coffee (or boiling water) Chocolate Frosting 2 cups unsalted butter, room temperature 1 cup natural unsweetened cocoa powder 4-5 cups powdered sugar 3 tbsp heavy whipping cream 1 tsp vanilla extract ½ tsp salt 24 Large marshmallows 16 oz canned white frosting, store bought Candy eyeballs Black writing icing, store-bought

cupcakes

kitchen

SARA RAQUET

STEPS Chocolate Cupcakes Preheat the oven to 350º F. Line a muffin pans with muffin liners.

Rough chop the bittersweet chocolate baking bar into smaller pieces, place in a microwave safe bowl and microwave for 2 minutes on 50% power. Stir and repeat until melted. Set aside to cool. In a mixing bowl combine the all-purpose flour, unsweetened natural cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Set it aside.In a separate mixing bowl beat the butter and granulated sugar with an electric mixer for 2 minutes, until pale and fluffy. Add in the eggs and cooled chocolate, beat again, 30 seconds. Add in half of the buttermilk, beat for about 20 seconds. Add in half of the dry ingredients, beat. Add the remaining buttermilk plus the hot coffee, beat just until the liquid is mixed in then add the remaining dry ingredients and beat on low speed until combined. Fill the muffin liners 1/2 full. Bake for 17-19 minutes at 350º F or until a few moist crumbs remain on a toothpick when inserted into the center. Allow the cupcakes to cool completely before adding the frosting.

Chocolate Frosting In a mixing bowl, beat the butter on high for 3 minutes. Sift in the cocoa powder and 3 cups of powdered sugar. I like to sift these in because it helps break up clumps, creating a light and fluffy frosting. Beat the frosting on low speed until combined and thick. Mix in 3 tbsp of heavy cream, vanilla extract and salt. Add in the additional powdered sugar (1-2 cups), mix on low. If the frosting is too thick, beat in an additional tablespoon of heavy cream.

Assemble: Fit a piping bag with a piping tip or use a Ziploc with the corner cut off. Pipe the frosting onto the cupcakes. Place a large marshmallow on top of the frosting. Transfer the canned frosting to a microwave safe bowl. Microwave for 15-30 seconds, or until the icing is runny. Spoon icing over the marshmallow, letting it fall and cover the whole marshmallow. Wait a few minutes for the icing to firm up, then press on candy eyeballs. Use the black writing icing to add a mouth to each ghost.

Kitchen Sara Raquet INGREDIENTS Pie Crust Use your favorite homemade pie crust recipe or store bought For the filling: 3 lbs ripe peaches (about 6 peaches) 2 tablespoons cornstarch 1 ½ tbl flour ½ tsp cinnamon ¼ tsp salt Pinch of allspice For the sauce: ½ c sugar ¼ c maple syrup 4 tbl bourbon 1 tbl water 3 tbl butter For the streusel: ⅓ c pecans ½ c butter 1 c of flour ½ c granulated sugar 3 tbl dark brown sugar ¼ tsp salt ¼ tsp cinnamon

STEPS Place the pie crust in your pie pan and crimp edges. Refrigerate for another 30 minutes.

As you wait for your crust to cool, make the filling. Peel and slice the peaches, and then toss in a large bowl with the cornstarch, flour, cinnamon, salt, and allspice. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. In a small, heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium-high heat, combine the sugar, maple syrup, bourbon, and water. Stir JUST UNTIL the sugar dissolves and then let come to a boil. Swirl the pan occasionally to make sure the caramel is browning evenly, but DO NOT STIR - about 4-5 minutes.

Once the caramel turns an amber color, remove from heat and add in the butter, swirling the pan until the butter completely melts. Pour the caramel over the peaches and mix well. Pour the peach-caramel filling into the prepared pie shell and place in the refrigerator once more. Sprinkle the pecans on a baking sheet and toast for 5 minutes. Remove and set aside until cool enough to handle, then chop. In a saucepan, melt a stick of butter over medium heat, stirring frequently. Cook until the butter turns golden-brown. Set it aside. Whisk together flour, sugar, dark brown sugar, salt, and cinnamon. Mix in the chopped pecans. Drizzle the slightly cooled browned butter into the mixture and mix until crumbs form. Crumble the streusel mixture on top of a rimmed baking sheet and place in the refrigerator for 15 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Remove the filled pie pan and the streusel from the refrigerator. Sprinkle and crumble the streusel over the pie filling until the pie filling is completely covered. Cover the pie crust with foil and put in the oven for 15 minutes. Make sure to put a baking sheet or pie drip catcher underneath. Remove the foil, reduce heat to 350 degrees F, and cook for an additional 35-40 minutes. The crust should be golden brown, and the caramel should bubble when the pie is ready. Cool for at least 3 hours.

After cooling for at least 3 hours, slice and serve with vanilla bean ice cream!

Maple Bourbon brown butter peach pie

DELIGHTFUL

Pumpkin puree soup KITCHEN Heather Niccoli Pumpkin soup is a real treat if you’re trying to eat healthy! Here’s a super easy, delicious soup that takes minutes to make and is sure to please.

INGREDIENTS 3 cans pumpkin puree 1 onion finely chopped 3 garlic cloves 4 cups vegetable stock Toasted pumpkin seeds Heavy Whipping Cream Salt and pepper

STEPS Place the pumpkin, onion, garlic and broth in a large pot. Heat over medium high- then transfer to a blender or use an immersion blender to fully incorporate. Transfer to super cute bowls! Season with salt and pepper and top with a spider web of heavy cream and toasted seeds if you are keto- or fresh bread if you aren’t!

BANANA crumb

kitchen

SARA

cake

R AQ U E T

INGREDIENTS 1/2 c butter, room temperature 1 c sugar 4 ripe mashed bananas 2 large eggs 1 tsp vanilla 2 tbsp sour cream 1 1/2 cup flour 2 tsp baking powder 1/2 tsp salt Crumb Mixture 1/2 c butter room temperature 1 c brown sugar 1 c flour 3/4 tsp cinnamon STEPS Preheat oven to 350 degrees and lightly spray a 9x13 pan with non-stick spray. Set it aside. Combine softened butter and sugar in a bowl and beat until well combined, using hand or stand mixer. Add mashed bananas, eggs, vanilla and sour cream, mix to combine. Add flour, baking powder, salt and stir until just combined. Pour into the bottom of the greased 9x13 pan. In a small bowl combine all the crumb mixture ingredients. Work the mixture together into small crumbs using a fork. Sprinkle the crumbs in an even and thick layer over the top of the banana bread batter. Bake for 35-40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with only a few moist crumbs or is clean. Serve warm or cool and cover. Store at room temperature for up to 3 days.

Bridging

the Red-Blue Divide with

Braver Angels

BY

Diantha S. Hopkins, with support from Kathy Dawes

I’m the kind of person who starts planning for the holidays way in advance. I love finding gifts and squirreling them away, trying new recipes, and coordinating gatherings. As we look ahead to Thanksgiving, I’m also excited to talk about the election. That’s right. I’m excited. Before you question my sanity, let me give you some background.

My husband and I married amid the craziness of 2020. I became a stepmom and, a few months later, a step-grandma.

I became pregnant and we added a little boy to the crew. Now, our six kids range from 28 to 3. Some are college students, some are small business owners, and some work for local restaurants. Three are still at home. Because of their varied experiences, the older kids have a wide range of political views, but that’s okay because they know that their dad and I have different views too. That’s right—we’re a purple couple, one red and one blue.

My husband grew up in Firth, and he’s an Idaho country boy to the core. He’s worked as an HVAC technician for over 25 years and is deeply religious and conservative. He’s also an amazing partner: a great listener, an easy laugher, and the kind of guy who cheerfully washes dishes, cleans up messes, changes diapers, and weeds the garden—without prompting. How did I get so lucky?

I was born in Idaho, too, but grew up in Colorado. I returned to Idaho in 2014 for a PhD program at Idaho State University, and stayed because I was hired as an English professor at BYU-Idaho.

I’m also an artist and traveler who loves exploring new ideas and places. I’m also deeply religious, but I’m not deeply conservative. I lean liberal, as does much of my extended family.

People inevitably ask, “How do you stay together when you have such different political views?” It hasn’t always been easy. We’ve had angry conversations, and talks have ended with tears and “time outs.”

Fortunately, we found a group called Braver Angels.

When it was founded in 2016, the organization was called Better Angels, a reference to Abraham Lincoln’s 1861 inaugural address in which he asked Americans to “call on our better angels” to unify the divided country. The name changed to Braver Angels in 2020.

For my marriage and family, Braver Angels has been a game changer. You may not be in a red/blue marriage, but you probably have neighbors, co-workers, friends, or family members who have different views. Do you wish you could talk about some of those differences without fear of destroying the relationship? Or maybe you feel like the damage has already been done, and you want to make things better? Would you like to actually look forward to Thanksgiving this year? Braver Angels can help.

First, head to the Braver Angels website (braverangels.org). You’ll notice that this nonprofit is transparent about their funding and goals. Their mission: “Bringing Americans together to bridge the partisan divide and strengthen our democratic republic.” Their leadership is split between red and blue, and they’re committed to keeping those numbers even—and including independent voices, too. Scholars have researched Braver Angels’ methods and shown they work—for individuals, families, classrooms, and communities.

Second, check out A Braver Way podcast. Just listening to Monica Guzman will give you more hope that we can come together, locally and nationally. The podcast’s name refers to The Braver Angels Way: eight core principles that all Braver Angels’ work is built on.

1. We state our views freely and fully, without fear.

2. We treat people who disagree with us with honesty, dignity and respect.

3. We welcome opportunities to engage those with whom we disagree.

4. We believe all of us have blind spots and none of us are not worth talking to.

5. We seek to disagree accurately, avoiding exaggeration and stereotypes.

6. We look for common ground where it exists and, if possible, find ways to work together.

7. We believe that, in disagreements, both sides share and learn.

8. In Braver Angels, neither side is teaching the other or giving feedback on how to think or say things differently.

If those principles resonate with you, check out the “Have An Experience” tab on the website. One option is eCourses, which were designed by Dr. Bill Doherty, an expert in marriage and family therapy. I started with a class called “Depolarizing Within,” and I was amazed about how much I learned about myself. It was humbling to realize that some of my thoughts and feelings were toxic, and I needed to work on seeing more of the humanity and goodness on the “other side.”

Home&Harvest | Sept + Oct 2024

These eCourses will improve not only your conversations about politics, but your communication with anyone you care about on any challenging topic.

Another great way to experience The Braver Angels Way is to sign up for a 1:1 Conversation. This is an opportunity to talk with another American about topics such as Rural/Urban or Race/ Ethnicity/Culture. I’ve done three of these, and I’ve found them fascinating and fulfilling. But I was nervous at first. What if I said something that hurt the other person? What if they were rude?

Those fears were allayed when I found out that these are structured conversations. You have prompts, time limits, and ground rules so that each person gets the chance to talk and listen. After you’re done, you decide if you’ll chat again—no pressure either way. My biggest takeaway was a greater love of my fellow Americans—we really are an amazingly diverse and interesting group of people. It’s great to meet people from places I’ve never been and feel connected by a shared desire to understand others and be truly understood in return.

Kathy has been hooked on Braver Angels workshops since 2018, both in communities and on a national scale. Her favorite is the Red/Blue Workshop because it involves equal numbers of “reds” and “blues” who work to understand stereotypes and kernels of truth about themselves and the “other side.” The first Red/Blue Workshop is documented in a YouTube video titled “Reuniting America.” That’s another great place to start learning about this organization.

She has also found that workshops and courses that are really useful actually teach specific skills to use when encountering people with different views than your own, such as “Skills for Disagreeing Better” or “Skills for Bridging the Divide.” These skills take practice because they do not come naturally to most of us.

By using them with the goal of reaching a better understanding of the other person’s views, participants have often found common ground that allows them to have greater respect for each other.

If you get hooked by the Braver Angels Way, you can get more involved. Each state has an alliance led by red and blue co-chairs, and you’re welcome at their monthly Zoom meetings. To connect with Braver Angels groups near you, go to braverangels.org, click on the “Take Action” tab, then click on “Find Your Local Alliance” and scroll down to “State Coordinators” to find your state coordinators and their contact information. You can even train to become an Ambassador or Workshop Moderator under “Become a Volunteer.”

My husband and I recently led a community debate in Rexburg about Ranked Choice Voting. Our goal was to get people out of their online silos and help them discover what people in their community felt. You can also find YouTube videos of Braver Angels’ national debates. As the Braver Angels Way puts it, “in disagreements, both sides share and learn.” That is definitely what I’ve experienced.

I’ve been a member of Braver Angels since 2021. It’s made me a better citizen, wife, mom, stepmom, teacher, and friend. It’s also made me excited and empowered to have conversations about politics, especially with those I care about. I’m not perfect, but I’m getting better, and I’m committed to spreading the good work of Braver Angels. No single politician is going to make America the best it can be. But together, we can find a braver way forward. I hope you’ll make time to make it part of your own journey. You might find that you’re more hopeful and excited for November than you ever thought possible.

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: s a u q u a t u a h C The

k l a T D E T l a n i Orig

By Kaitlynn Anderson Today, we are familiar with traveling acts, including comedians, the circus, concerts, and exhibits. The concept of one person or a group traveling the country is not a relatively new one.

One of the original traveling groups was known as a chautauqua [shuh-taa-kwah], although becoming a travel group was not its original intention. Chautauquas, similar to anything else, transformed over time as views, technology, and hobbies evolved.

Created in 1874 by Lewis Miller and John Heyl Vincent, the Chautauqua Sunday School Assembly aimed to provide out-of-school education to individuals vacationing near the Chautauqua Lake area of New York. The founders were both Methodists; however, various religions participated in the teachings. In a short amount of time, the classes geared to Sunday school teachers expanded to include physical education, art, and other academic classes. These new classes allowed for the creation of the Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle in 1878. This program offered individuals who were unable to afford being enrolled in college a space to gain an education.

The four-year program is considered to be one of the first attempts at distance learning, which today we are accustomed to partially due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Although providing an education was the primary focus of the program, it also aimed to keep individuals from engaging in debaucherous activities, including drinking, smoking, and gambling.

Perhaps this emphasis was due to the beginning of the Progressive Movement and the influence of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union.

For individuals in remote areas, typically females and labor workers, reading circles were created and the cost of books was split to enable more individuals to participate. This action led to the influence of Chautauqua spreading beyond New York and across the country.

Due to the success and impact of the Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle, the Chautauqua Movement came into full effect and daughter chautauquas were formed. Chautauquas were most popular from the 1870s to the mid 1920s. Although the movement grew, chautauquas were not available in every town. Traveling chautauquas appeared in smaller and remote towns. Tents popped up in the destination for a certain amount of time before traveling to the next town. Since these chautauquas were not a stable fixture in some towns, hired speakers and performers served as the entertainment. The concept is very similar to that of a circus, except Chautauquas provided more of an educational form of entertainment.

Idaho was no stranger to the Chautauqua Movement as literary classes began to emerge in Boise, Ketchum, and Caldwell.

These classes would be held for certain periods of time until individuals completed the classes and graduated. Additionally, these classes would advocate for a chautauqua to be held in their home city. With that, the first Idaho chautauqua was held in Boise in 1910. The planning committee was elated to receive confirmation from Senator William Borah that he would provide a speech during the program. The July 4th chautauqua promised to be one of the largest events in the Northwest with several entertainment acts and educational moments.

It was not too long after chautauquas began appearing throughout Idaho that they would eventually reach Latah County.

According to the oral histories of some county residents, individuals within the community were required to underwrite or sponsor the program. Individuals would be required to sell tickets for the program. However, if they did not sell enough, they often reduced the price or purchased them all. Elvon Hampton, a farmer from Genesee, recalled in his 1976 interview “...Somebody could underwrite twenty-five or fifty dollars, maybe, if they didn’t sell the tickets. And they figured they had to have that much money to put the program on. And they supported that as a community enterprise. They would run into some problems if they didn’t have too good a show, or if the people had a little tough year and all the families couldn’t buy their tickets.” During an interview with Lola Clyde, Elizabeth Wahl, and Tom Wahl in 1975, Tom Wahl asserts “But in order to get one in your town you had to have enough citizens sign up-pledge a certain amount of money or they wouldn’t come.

And I guess it happened often enough that they sort of died a natural death.”

When it comes to the type of programs displayed in Moscow, the diaries of Frank Otter and Alma Lauder Keeling provide insight. In 1920, Frank Otter describes purchasing a season ticket for $1.10 and listening to the Ithacan Quartette sing and hearing lectures from Mae Guthrie Longier and W.H. Nation. A few years earlier in 1916, Alma Lauder Keeling recalls attending a lecture from Lou Beauchamp, which would “have done everybody more good than going to church this Sunday Morning.”

Near the beginning of the chautauqua, she tended to visit twice a day, but then would only attend once a day later on. The oral histories and diaries showcase how the chautauquas served the needs of individuals within Latah County, as its residents were often isolated from varying cultural influences compared to large cities.

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The country saw a decrease in chautauquas around the 1920s, with several factors at play. During this time, women’s suffrage was a hot topic on the minds of individuals, whether they believed in the cause or not. With white women receiving the right to vote, new opportunities arose, causing them to be utilizing their free time differently. Another prominent movement occurring at this time was the prohibition movement.

This movement also allowed for individuals to utilize their free time in a different manner than they had previously. In terms of technology, cars, movies, and radios afforded ways for entertainment to take place in different forms. Cars allowed for individuals and families to travel further, thus making other towns and cities more accessible. For younger audiences, movies and vaudevilles were a fun new form of entertainment to experience with their friends or significant other. For nights inside with family, the radio was a new form of entertainment that could be experienced in the comfort of your own home. Apart from technology and social movements, involvement in World War I led to the shift from chautauquas to programs through other organizations, such as the American Red Cross, the YMCA and YWCA, and American Library Association.

“ F or nights inside with family, the radio was a new form of entertainment ” Although chautauquas saw a steep decline in the 1920s, the program endures today. Chautauqua Lake in New York, where the program originated, is now home to the Chautauqua Association. The education center is roughly 750 acres and has multiple restaurants, hotels, and businesses on campus. In one summer, there are over 100,000 individuals that attend the public events, over 8,000 students who enroll in the summer school, and over 7,500 individuals on-site during any day of a nine-week session.

Aside from the chautauqua epicenter in New York, states throughout the country have their own chautauqua associations, although less than twenty exist. The goal of chautauquas today is still to provide education, but at various levels. Lighthearted, but still educational, programs are geared for individuals who are visiting while on vacation, while others are serious and professional programs for individuals who are strictly there to learn. Similar to the early chautauquas, children have their own programs to attend and learn.

HERE FOR YOU, NO MATTER WHAT.

Chautauquas can be considered the original TEDTalk in some fashion, as they aimed to educate and entertain individuals while traveling around the country. Although the programs were public events, it makes one wonder if they catered towards certain individuals, whether they were wealthy individuals or members of certain races. The continuation of chautauquas for 150 years shows that individuals are interested in the information provided and their programs are filling a social and intellectual need.

The

BASICS OF THRIFTING CRAFTING MATERIALS

BY Kali Nelson

When getting into new hobbies, the price of materials can be a bit overwhelming. If the price of getting started out of your comfort zone or you don’t have a hobby specific store near you – Thrift stores can be both a great resource and a bust to shop. When I learned to knit, I was a middle schooler and my grandma told me to never overlook a thrift store when looking for materials. That was over 10 years ago but I have held onto that advice and found much of my own. Not every trip is a win but with online shopping it can. There are a few things to keep in mind when shopping for them to find good deals. Please keep in mind these tips have helped me but might not work for everyone. Thrifting materials is really a lot of mental work and deciding what is convenient versus what you are willing to wait for.

Where are you shopping?

Location has the biggest impact honestly. When thrifting you need to keep a few things in mind like: Where are you shopping? Is it in a big city or rural? Is it in a richer area of town? What’s the hobby supply area looked like before?

All of these questions will impact what you can find at your thrift stores. Occasionally stores in bigger towns can have more options but even smaller shops can have good finds. Smaller shops just take more time and dedication to find anything. If you’re going looking for yarn, you could try unraveling a sweater – there are plenty of tutorials online for what to look for when doing that. (This can also be a very time consuming project to take on.) Buying an afghan and unraveling it is also an option and can give new life to a project that’s been donated.

Set your expectations low Honestly, sometimes thrift stores, even in big areas, are a bust.

I like to go in and take a look but when it’s not an immediate need. I also know that I will probably not get very lucky everytime I go in. Take this as an excuse to look around and treat it like a scavenger hunt. It could be a fun way to look for supplies that you might not need immediately but could be useful later.

Shopping online With the rise of online shopping you can even look for secondhand supplies. There are dozens of places online that you could search for with a quick google search. With an online thrift store you won’t even need to leave your house. Even online, thrifting is a scavenger hunt. The internet is a great place to find estate and yard sales as well. Many will post photos you can sort through or you could grab a treat and a friend to make a day out of thrifting. Local buy nothing groups on social media sites are also a great place to find possible deals. If you are looking for yarn try a destashing group.

Assigning Value

-be plentiful or not like most materials. Books are also a great resource to get secondhand. For beginners it is always best to have a project in mind before buying materials. This helps you to narrow down what items you need and can keep you from being overwhelmed. I personally started with large knitting needles and any worsted weight yarn to make a scarf but it is really up to you. There are few ways to really start something wrong so read up online and pick a project which excites you – it helps keep you motivated I promise. It is also helpful to be realistic with yourself. It will be more of a challenge to find more expensive items like interchangeable needles but it could happen.

Finding books secondhand I love the internet as much as the next guy- don’t get me wrong but you can really never go wrong with a book reference.

Personally if I am looking for a book I start secondhand. There is no right or wrong way to thrift books for your personal craft library. My library was very small until I went to college and then I started expanding it with knitting and crocheting related memoirs, history books, fiction and most importantly references. Beginners and advanced crafters can benefit from reference books covering stitches, techniques, patterns and materials.

This is a highly subjective part of thrifting craft supplies.

Personally I give it a medium to low priority when thinking of supplies for immediate projects. I do like to look just for fun to see if I can find a good deal. Deals like many things on this list are incredibly subjective and you’ll have to do your own “crafting” math to decide this for yourself. I never bank on finding what I need but I’ve also built more of a stash so I don’t need to purchase new supplies for each project. I have found great finds in these stores and many times I leave with nothing but if you’re a hardcore thrifter this could be a fun addition to your rounds.

Pattern books are plentiful for both knitting and crocheting.

They can cover topics like clothes, accessories, toys and more.

Finding a wide range of them can expose you to new ideas and different projects you might not think you’re interested in. Even if you don’t purchase the book it can be helpful to look. If the budget is really tight check out the library to see what they offer, many have a craft section or can request any books you might want.

Dedicating Time

Many estate sale companies will post online before running one and so it is best to familiarize yourself with what companies are local to you. When looking for estate sales, check the photos and see if you can find anything. Yard sales are a bit more hit or miss if there are pictures beforehand.

Thrifting crafting supplies can take a lot of time and if possible, dedicating one day to estate sales or limiting time in the stores can help keep the value to time ratio you set in balance. I find it easier to go once every other month for a quick look. If you’re in the beginning of a hobby a more frequent schedule could be helpful. This goes hand in hand with your budget and how much energy you want to extend on this search.

It might be helpful to avoid peak times and if possible go early in the day during the week. If you go often enough, you could learn when the store is restocked and go after that. If shopping in a store feels like too much work it could be worth starting online. There are many established websites one could look to for second hand materials. These sites can even set up alerts for specific materials.

What materials to look for?

Now this section will really only cover knitting and crocheting since those are the two hobbies I know best. For both needles and hooks will be easiest to find in a variety of sizes. Yarn can-

Home&Harvest | Sept + Oct 2024

Estate and Yard Sales

If you’re planning to do yard sales and estate sales try to have a few lined up on one day. If I go to yard sales it is because I saw a few signs and know there are some nearby I can pop into. These can take up to 20 minutes but I like to peruse everything.

Other Tips If being a dedicated thrifter is what you want to do be sure to know when the sales are.

Think of repurposing materials. Ask yourself: how could I use this for my craft? Is this something I can repurpose?

Make a list of what you would like – a wishlist is the best way to stay on track when looking for items. These could be things you’ve seen online or project materials. Think needles, hooks, yarn, stitch markers or darning needles.

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The

ART of JUNKING By

I

Gayle Anderson

I’m an avid treasure hunter and junking addict. The mere ad of an estate sale will have me checking my calendar to see if I can go. If I came with a warning label it would read, “serious junker with a warped sense of humor, beware”. This blessing and curse of treasure hunting began out of necessity. I had only been married just shy of 3 years when we moved our little family of four from our tiny 900 square foot home to a 2300 square foot (fixer upper from the 1970’s) home on December 22, 1988. Not the best time to move, but you do what you must do. As we moved our furniture in, we had lots of area to fill.

Being the practical and exhausted mom that I was with an 11 month old baby, I had opted to not decorate at all for Christmas. However, my 6 year old daughter wouldn’t have it. And so, for our very first Christmas we had a hastily decorated tree and set up 2 lawn chairs in the family room that looked very festive with the orange & pink shag carpet.

My sweet girl was happy as she stared at the tree & presents under it … and I happily sat on the floor and toasted this new adventure with a glass of wine. Back then, we lived very modestly as we were committed to building up the farm machinery inventory as the farmer husband had joined the family farm. So that meant no extra funds to fill up our home with anything new.

That next summer, my mom gave me the antique buffet that had been sitting for years in my Aunt Lois & Uncle Art’s garage back in Montana. The mere fact that it had originally belonged to my favorite grandma made it special and I welcomed a piece of family furniture. When it arrived, this once treasured buffet had been relegated to being used as a work bench and bore the oil stains and file marks of many projects. Like most older wood furniture, it had a very dark stain on it, so I read up on how to strip furniture.

I worked on it in between working full time, T-ball games, helping on the farm when needed and other various and assorted duties that come with being a farm-wife and mom. In the end, once the dark stain was gone, the wood underneath was a light oak and it still bore traces of oil stains and file marks, but to me it was still beautiful, imperfections and all. When my mom saw the newly restored buffet, she jokingly said she wanted it back. I said no … and it has moved with me from place to place. I realized old pieces of furniture have stories that come with them, that they were most likely very loved at one time and through use, they sometimes come with a few flaws that only give them character. And that was where my love of thrifting and furniture restoration began, gathering up someone else’s once valued items and making them part of my home.

While the beautiful buffet graced the formal dining room, the family room thrifting didn’t fare so well. I had insisted the TV go downstairs and the farmer husband didn’t like sitting on the lawn chairs, so he procured a gold and brown plaid sofa that looked like something the comedian Rodney Dangerfield would have endorsed if he would have had a furniture line. And yes, we still had the orange/pink shag carpet … so I’ll leave you with that visual as I move onto giving you the inside tips from years of seeking treasures.

First and foremost, here is a warning … junking is fun, but it’s addictive. After I had amassed enough furniture to furnish my house, I continued to collect treasures. I couldn’t help myself. And I’d drag my girls with me to sales all through their childhood and you guessed right … they are addicted. My oldest daughter, Jen and I started being vendors for the yearly Farm Chicks Vintage Market in Fairfield and later in Spokane for a few years. Thousands of women would descend to shop and it was and still is was an intense sale. Life got busy and we quit being a vendor at shows.

But the love of selling repurposed furniture made me start my own event 4 years ago. It gave me a legitimate excuse to collect all year long to sell at my own vintage sale and of course, daughter Jen is a vendor there. We often go junking together. Nothing like a crazy mother and daughter duo.

So, here’s what I’ve found after many years of seeking treasures which some refer to as junk. Yard sales/estate sales/rummage sales/flea markets are the best places to find fun stuff. Personally, I tend to stay away from auctions as I am impatient and don’t like to wait around, plus the bidding system intimidates me. That is just my preference, if you like auctions by all means go.

Where to find sales?

Currently, social media (Facebook) seems to be the best source.

Become a member on other community’s FB pages as they will announce yard sales as well as when they host their “community yard sale”. The towns that I am aware of that do this are Troy, Potlatch, Uniontown, Genesee and Palouse. Also sign up and get on every estate sales liquidator email list that you can, as then you will get notice of upcoming sales. Depending on what you are on the hunt for, if the ad says “be prepared to dig” those are usually the best sales. However, I’ll warn you, the places may be dirty, smelly, cluttered … basically chaos in the form of a junkers heaven.

First & foremost – Get to the sale early or when it opens. Be respectful if they say no early birds, then abide and just quietly wait till the sale opens and don’t trespass. Most likely you will be standing in line with other early birds on the sidewalk or sale entrance.

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1. Bring cash – 20’s and under are the best. Sometimes people will accept Venmo. Estate sale liquidators usually will take credit cards too. When checking out if you have a lot of items, politely ask if they will accept a lump sum offer. And if they are agreeable then do be fair and reasonable.

2. The night before, scope out your route to try to be efficient if you have several places you want to check out.

3. Bring painters tape and a sharpie, as you can tag a piece of furniture with “sold and your name.” This is very helpful with large items. Often, I’ll pack smaller items by the checkout person and “start my pile” and label it with my name.

4. Bring a bag with straps to carry smaller items and a tape measure if you need to get exact measurements. By all means wear comfy shoes and bring a flashlight or headlamp. If I’m going to a barn sale, I’ll bring gloves. I’ll often have a backpack with these items in it. Some of my best hunting is when I’ve been in old barn lofts with no lights. One particular instance - I’m in the loft of an old barn and it’s dark so I have a headlamp on, there is stuff stacked in a heap with 50 years of dust covering it (seriously). And I hear the owner from the ground floor who yells up to me and says … “uhm you better try to step on the cross beams as I don’t know how solid the floor is!” I was contorting my body in ways that I didn’t know was possible. I recall Jen who was with me climbed down and left me up there … (true story)!

5. If you are on the hunt for very specific items, take a quick once over and move on if there isn’t anything if interest. Time is of the essence.

6. If you find that perfect something, look it over carefully, ask the host questions if necessary. Just remember, once you buy it, it’s yours and there isn’t a return policy.

7. For me personally, if I love something but am unsure what I’ll do with it or where I’ll put it … then my advice is buy and you can figure it out later. I don’t let details like that bog me down.

Recently I checked off a bucket list item and went on a 50-mile yard sale that went from Lolo to Darby, Montana. And I’m not gonna lie, it was an epic adventure. Rod and I filled up the back of the pickup with all sorts of treasures. It was at one of our stops that I met a lovely lady named Barbara who invited us to come back for a personal tour to go through her barn. And I must tell you, it was stuffed from floor to ceiling. There were small pathways we could follow, sometimes we had to logistically move several items to access other parts of the room or to get a better look at a piece of furniture. However, there were many places there was just too much and we couldn’t access entire rooms, but it was still fun to look. And yes, we brought back several items. It was a treasure trove after years of collecting.

When you are out and about, just have fun and. Remember this is an adventure. Yard sale hunting is a lot like dating- you are going to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince ... meaning that not every outing is going to end up in scoring treasures. Don’t get discouraged, you just keep showing up and getting out there.

Half the fun is the thrill of the hunt. Trust me on that and happy junking!

Bundles And Bunches OF

KIDS

Part ii

By Diane Conroy

In the last issue of Home&Harvest I was able to give a little bit of introduction to the first of the 24 children who grew up at White Spring Ranch. We are now in the 2nd generation of children of Henry and Marguerite Tobin Lorang. Their first two, Bob and Jim were in the previous article.

Here are the other children: Marguerite Mary Catherine Lorang was born in 1922. This is a sad story that Marguerite and Henry felt like they had to sit down and document. Born with a problem with her thymus gland, Marguerite made it to 2 months old and 7 days. It was January and a cold blustery winter night when little Catherine was rushed to the Genesee Bus Station to get to the Doctor in Lewiston. They had wrapped her up very tight against the bitter cold and she never made it. Uncle Charles wrote a little poem for Marguerite. “dedicated it to your darling baby girl”.

Joan Lorang was born in 1924. The first girl of this generation to survive. Joan was the one to take over caring for the other children when Mom went to the hospital in 1942. During WWII Joan also answered the call to write to the soldiers overseas and ended up with several correspondents that had fallen in love with her. It was a bit of a problem. But Joan moved on to marry and have 2 children and become one of the several nurses in the family. Her mother was the first one.

John Joseph Lorang was born in 1926. As a very young 7 year old, John sent his 54 pennies to President Roosevelt to help with a Polio hospital. John actually received a personal letter in return from President Franklin Roosevelt, thanking him for his 54 pennies, which of course was preserved. John was also one of the younger ones during WWII. He had fill out a form to justify working in the fields when he was 17 when the service had just begun recruiting 17 year olds. “Under present conditions I can not work away from home because I can do more to help win the war by staying home than by working in another section of the country. Will help harvest local crops, have potatoes, nearly a thousand chicks and a large garden of various vegetables and fruits.” When John graduated at 18, he did join the service and was lucky enough to have the War end while he was still in the States. John got in a bit of trouble as well as a younger man.

He accidently burned down the root cellar while smoking a cigarette. Then he instigated quite an event in town. John was able to get some helium for balloons and he and brother Jim floated those balloons at night with lanterns attached.

The news went all around the country that people were seeing UFO’s in Genesee in 1949. It was even picked up by the Associated Press and was quite a story. It made the Genesee News, and the boys never fessed up. We learned this from younger brother Dan later. John wanted to go to Alaska, but instead went to Medical school at Loyola University and later became the beloved Dr. John of Tekoa, WA. John turned out very well, with seven children.

I have to include a brief interlude here because it does relate to Dr. John Lorang. In 2003, we had someone visit here from Idaho Heritage Trust. They were meeting in Moscow and she offered to take a look at our site. In minutes, she was on her cell phone and the next thing I knew the whole group was here. About 20 people. Someone said, “Is this Dr. John’s place?” I said yes, “He grew up here.” I could immediately tell this was something that really mattered to her.

Mary Frances (Pat) Lorang was born in 1927. She was the last child born in the little bungalow that father Henry had built for the family. As usual we have the whole story of Henry building the bungalow. You can read it on our website at www.

WhiteSpringRanch.org. in a 1919 letter. But Henry, Marguerite and the 5 children moved into the big Farmhouse in 1928. And when Mother Marguerite was in the hospital, Pat cooked for all the 6 younger children still to be mentioned. Later on, Pat also helped care for older brother Bob’s little girl after he died In WWII. This turned out to be good practice for her, since she and Clark Amstrong later had seven children. They lived in Lapwai, Idaho and became good friends with neighbor Mylie Lawyer, Nimiipuu elder and historian.

Mary Jeanne (Jeanne) Lorang was born in 1929. Jeanne was a sweet child with just a few challenges. She went to live with Aunt Alice, Marguerite’s sister and did her best throughout her life, eventually marrying and having four children. Son Rob Lorang is an extremely talented mason artist and has restored the chimney for our 1878 Log cabin. Dan Lorang was born in 1930. Dan was the historian of this generation and stayed on the Ranch in Genesee. He tried very hard to preserve this site, raising the Log cabin, reroofing the c.1873-1904 Farmhouse and actually just decided to spray foam over the entire c.1873 Kitchen and Washroom to preserve the early wood. That would have been a sight to see. Dan built a lean-to onto the c.1880 Curio cabin for a place to store all of his father’s photographs and letters after Henry had passed. Exactly where they were found 25 years later. Dan served on the Valley Forge and in Guam during the Korean War. When he returned he eventually met Janet Shollenberger and married her almost immediately after they met. Dan and Janet had two boys, mentioned below.

Lois Lorang was born in 1931. Lois was a very hard working girl.

She can be seen in a large photograph now sitting in the Genesee School Library. Her brother Dan, a budding young photographer, had taken a beautiful photo of her while she was studying.

Another favorite photograph of Lois is a fairly recent one of her sitting on the woodbox of the Farmhouse Kitchen. This was a tradition for the children. To see if they could sit on the small, slanted wood bin and not fall off. Lois tried this when she was about 75 years old and was delighted she could still do it. Lois was very sociable and would get involved in a lot of escapades with her younger sister Mae and Mae’s school friends. Later, Lois found someone she loved and married, against her overly protective “big” brother’s Dan’s wishes (who was 1 year older) and had 3 children.

If you would like these delightful stories, they can be found on our Website, mentioned above, in Journals, “Others”, “1940’s stories by Teresa Scharnhorst”. I’ll tell you one of them. “One time”, Teresa says, the “boys” Dan Lorang and friend Danny Carbuhn were swimming at the ole’ swimming hole on Cow Creek.

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Teresa and Lois decided to pull a trick and swipe their clothes, everything except their shoes; and put them on a tree about ¼ mile away. Dan was pretty upset when he got out of the creek and ran into a nearby barn with just his shoes, to find an old pair of overalls. The girls never heard the end of it for several years.

Mary Alice (Mae) Lorang was born in 1933. Mae was a kick. We have letters from Mae written at her desk when she was supposed to be studying in class. And one actual note she was passing to schoolmates during class. I’ll bet it was her father, Henry, that found this note and preserved it. She and her close friends, Betty, Vonnie and Teresa got into all kinds of mischief and innocent trouble. You can find these stories on our website. White Spring Ranch.org if you look up Teresa Scharnhorst’s Stories, mentioned above. Mae later was serving as a Nurse on a base in Germany when she fell in love and married. Mae and Tom had one son, Tommy, who has written books about hiking the Continental Divide.

Albert Lorang was born in 1934. Albert was a lot like the Albert of the first generation. He was a bit of a rebel also and found his love of his life at a very young age. He ran off with her and was also criticized, but this turned out to be a very wonderful marriage as well. Georgia and Albert had five children. There is a story somewhere about a frog in the mashed potatoes but I have to research this and get back to you later.

Rita Lorang was born in 1937. The youngest of Henry and Marguerite Lorang. Rita stayed on the farm with her father Henry the longest and they had wonderful times together. Rita later-

-went to U of Idaho and was married to Barker Weston. They raised 3 red haired children, travelling the world for the service.

Next would be the 3rd generation raised in the Farmhouse: Roch Lorang was born in 1966. Roch is the son of Janet Shollenberger Lorang and Dan Lorang. The last Lorang living who was raised in the Historical Farmhouse, besides his Mom who married Dan in 1965. Roch’s most memorable stories are of running down the rooster who kept waking him up early every morning.

How he just jumped out the window and took after the rooster when it was finally too much. Trying to put a diving board on the pond didn’t work too well. And Roch tells the story of living in the old Farmhouse and trying to sleep during the winter when his water glass would turn to ice. There may be a few more stories, but these are the ones his is willing to tell.

Dreu Lorang was born in 1969. He was our beloved Disco Dreu, full of love and delight. Dreu liked to act and one night he did a complete Disco Dreu Reunion Performance for everyone on the Farmhouse Porch complete with flashlights for strobe lights. A wonderful sense of humor that we can still feel today.

So, You Can Go Home Again.

Ending this article with this phrase because I have learned from working here at the Ranch, that it IS possible. Going home is connecting with your past, with mementos of your past and reading the stories to see how they have built your future. Hope this story reminded you of some of yours. And this is what we do here, every day.

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A Reading byfor You Annie Gebel Life is a series of decisions, is it not? This reading can help you weigh what could happen if you did the thing, made the change, took the chance with what could happen if you didn’t.

Consider the decision you’d like guidance with and hold it in your mind, taking a deep breath or two. While this decision is at the forefront of your consciousness, take in the two pairs of cards. Each set has a message from WildWood Tarot, by Mark Ryan and John Matthews, and Asha Frost’s Sacred Medicine Oracle. Determine which pair represents what could happen if you did and which pair holds the message for not making a change.

Home&Harvest | Sept + Oct 2024

72

T he Seer and Sacred Medicine (Calling)

x

Well, these two cards are potently connected and seem to be speaking directly to those who are debating stepping onto a healing path. This could come together in a few different ways. If the choice that you’re considering has to do with creativity (dance, art, etc), it seems the universe is cheering you on. Letting our minds and bodies create is not only healing to us but for others as well. Even the nay-sayers. There are always those who don’t understand our choices, yet they are our choices. This is your choice. And, if you move in the direction of freeing yourself from your own internalized judgment, theirs won’t even matter and that is powerful for everyone who witnesses it.

If the decision you’re weighing isn’t directly creative, the message is about looking inside yourself and, also, tuning into practices that speak to you in making your choice. Maybe that’s tarot or oracle cards. Maybe you ask for signs or receive them even without asking. (Side story - I once made a very big decision by asking for a sign, a raven. If I was supposed to do the thing, seeing a raven would be my sign. There was another animal that was supposed to signal not doing the thing, but I don’t even remember what it was because within half an hour I saw a raven. In that half hour I’d begun to question myself. Will I tell myself it’s just a crow and doesn’t count? I was scared. What I saw was a raven on the side of a semi with the words RAVEN TRANSPORT. When you’re willing to receive, the messages are all around.) Practices could also include journaling or free-writing (just let the words come out), walking barefoot in the back yard or hiking into the woods. Whatever the practices are, trust them, and trust yourself. Don’t ruminate, when you know, you’ll know.

Now, if this set was what you chose for what could happen if you don’t make the change, the message is still about healing. There is something in you that will be healed by saying no. It might simply be that you don’t want to and you’re not used to listening to your intuition or putting your needs ahead of others. I say simply, yet I know that saying no when you’re so used to being last in the queue of receiving your own care is anything but simple. Perhaps now is the time.

b x

It might also be the case that not stepping onto the path you’re considering will allow for that creativity to take place, and the healing to surround you in your current situation in a way that it wouldn’t be able to if you changed things right now.

T he Archer and Shawl Dancer (W ild) Again, these two cards share a connection, this time for adventure, pleasure, and passion. If this set was your choice for what could happen if you take the chance, then the answer seems to be very exciting! If you’re reading to claim your power, perhaps it’s time to take your shot. Both cards talk about preparation, though, as well as going for it. In the traditions of the First Nations, they begin their dance in the east, which represents the beginning of a brand new day. And The Archer first gathers her arrows into her quiver before setting out. So, in this case, if you’re going to take the leap you’re considering, gather your skills, pack your tools, and set out at the right time. This adventure can be both well-planned and invigorating.

If this set was your choice for what could happen if you didn’t make the choice you’re considering, the cards seem to be saying there’s something in your life that you’re not focusing enough on currently that could bring you more pleasure and excitement without the change. Look around with fresh eyes. What can you focus on?

What practice or chore have you thought about trying differently? What skills could you play with even more?

We often think of pleasure as mind-blowing, right? Yet it’s really the practice of enjoyment. Would you get more enjoyment out of weekly food prep if you used your hands more than a spoon? Could nightly bath time with the kids become an adventure if you listened to Treasure Island together? Small changes can bring big pleasure and reignite passion for what you’re already doing.

I want to point out one last thing about these - they’re all women. Both of these decks have women and men, animals, all sorts of imagery! Yet, all four cards show a feminine figure. To me that means that in order to make your decision to or not to, really lean into the feminine aspects of your personality. Both men and women have masculine and feminine traits or yin and yang characteristics. Intuition, living in flow, receiving, and emotions are all traditionally feminine parts of you that you can rely on. Listen to the gentle whisper of your inner wisdom.

Don’t push or force a choice or direction. Be open to what is offered to you - resources, advice, opportunity. Don’t deny your emotions, let them move you in the direction you’re meant to go.

Home&Harvest | Sept + Oct 2024

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Turning A New Leaf

by Tony Niccoli

And eventually, the brave little leaf let go.

It had been a long time coming, that windy Autumn afternoon. And it hadn’t been a decision taken lightly, but here it was – ready or not. So finally, with a longing look to the familiar branch that had felt like home for so long, the yellow Aspen leaf quaked a final time. The breeze was majestic, but there were no other leaves remaining on the neighboring branches and so the fluttering murmur that normally enchanted the forest with a sound like walling water was nearly silent. The symphony had dwindled for weeks as the other leaves let go. And in the very last moment, the final leaf accepted the ultimate release, knowing that a new world of growth would soon be there, following closely behind.

It fluttered. Catching an updraft and raising higher a few times on the descent. And where it landed, on a path that had recently been shaded from above but was now hidden under a golden pile of discarded canopy.

The little leaf looked back on what had seemed a lifetime of memories. It had started so long ago, when the sun of the previous spring had first danced along its budding length. It harkened upon the images of cool rains, long afternoons, days with roaring wind, and even scorching heat. The changing guard of animals passing below, and the occasional tourist stopping to take a photo. It had stood resolute above it all, providing a chemical service in it’s commitment to the wellbeing of the tree. The greater good that sustained so much around it. It felt proud. Complete. Confident now in its decision to finally let go.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve crunched leaves under my feet in the arboretum during our autumn evening walks. God’s paint brush, people say. That explosive moment when leaves across the country turn and we suddenly remember to take a few extra moments and look up, hoping to catch the view as they still remain suspended overhead, but already enjoying the tactile response from those now below.

So many outings and memories are based on that change. Going to view the turning leaves. Raking them into neat piles along the lawn. Diving with laughter into the piles and having to start it all again. Its fortunate for us that it only happens once a year. If the leaves were orange, red, and gold everyday would we still take the time to notice?

If they blew about the ground 12 months a year, would they go from being a marvelous play-thing to a dreaded nuisance? And what about the poor trees – they must be most appreciative of all that autumn comes but once a trip around the sun.

As I stand there, indebted to the seasonal change that draws my mind to respect the glory of nature’s cycle and the similarities to my own path, I like to think for just a moment of what those leaves went through to get here. Of the many splendid things they have collectively seen.

It didn’t just start in the spring. In fact, it didn’t just start in our lifetimes. To truly get a scope of the reason behind this annual dance we need to go back far father – to a world that wouldn’t look anything like ours does today.

Do you remember just how different things were in the 90’s?

Of course, I mean the B.C.E. 360,000,090’s. Things sure were different then! But exciting changes were happening here on earth and some new plants were just starting to pop up. These were the gymnosperms – a completely new type of living organism.

Their name comes from Greek and simply means that the seeds are naked. Think of a pine cone – this is the perfect example of a gymnosperm plant in action. The cone is closed as it forms, and it houses the seeds. Female cones produce those large, woody husks that we find littering the ground of the forest after they have served their purpose and dropped. The male cones are much smaller, usually only forming lower on the tree, and farther out near the end of the branches. This strategy helps prevent a tree that has both male and female cones from fertilizing itself.

In the spring, the male cones produce tons of pollen that hitches a ride on those gusting Palouse winds. It is a terribly inefficient strategy when you think of it. Trillions of particles drifting to nowhere just in the hope that a few find another tree, and don’t just land on the tree, but actually make it to the seeds protected in a female cone. When the plant is ready, the cone will begin to gently open, exposing the seeds to the air. The cones grow in a spiral shape so that as they flex a uniform gap appears giving access to each blade. There will be two waiting seeds on each of the scales when the cone is fertile.

Meanwhile, we cough and rub our eyes, wondering how we could possibly be sneezing so much while it is not even harvest season.

A few days later, all that fine yellow dust has settled and the dance is over. Many of the trees that grow closely in tight clusters are fertilized and ready to produce new pines. But for lonely trees spaced farther apart, the likelihood is greatly diminished. The passing of genetic material across distance results in more diversity, but with this plan, greater uniformity is the norm – especially for the more isolated plants. Think of the forests here and the abundance of pines, firs, spruce, larch, junipers, and cedar. All of these conifers are gymnosperms, and thus all of them thrive because of, but also completely depend on, our winds.

So, while it was a completely novel approach 360 million years ago, and still works today, plants had a new idea that would come later and completely revolutionize the way they reproduce and spread.

Around 125 million years ago, the trees and insects and animals had a conference. Lanyards were purchased, with very official looking passes. Copious amounts of coffee were brewed, dryerase boards were easeled, microphone tops were tapped, and a hush fell over the rented convention room at their local hotel. Or – something like that anyway.

Because evolution is simply remarkable. And symbiotic relationships lead to advantages that are too good to pass up. The trees had an idea. “We want the insects to come to us, pick up our pollen, and then move it across long distances, finally depositing it on other trees of the same species – in the exact location needed for fertilization.”

“Not interested,” said the insects.

“Also, we trees and other associated plants would request that animals come by next to take the fertilized seeds, and spread them far and wide across their natural territory, such that we don’t just have one tree growing a few feet away from the last.”

“Pass for now,” replied the animals.

But it was lunch, and then time for break-out sessions. The trees knew they had some time to regroup and come up with a plan.

“Final offer,” said the trees – mustering all the courage they had left, hoping this second plan would not fail. “We propose a system to give sugar and excess pollen to the insects. In commission form of course, with larger supplies being give to those insects that come by the most frequently. We will locate the pollen that you need to spread close to the area we need to fertilize and coat it in delicious nectar. Not all you can eat – but enough to make it worth it. The pollen will naturally dust off and get stuck to your feet and backs. When you drink up the nectar and take the pollen, others will know to skip this spot. Then you go for more – somewhere else, hopefully a good distance away. The pollen on your feet will naturally rub off. Everyone wins.”

A stunned silence held in the air for just a moment as the insects whispered among themselves. Every head in the convention center turned, as the elder honeybee nodded her assent. “I think we have a deal in principle. But how will we know where to find this sweet nectar?”

“Best part!” said the trees. “Have you ever heard of a flower?”

And of course, the honeybees and other insects hadn’t – because the world had never seen a flower until the angiosperms hit the scene. Flowers were a revolution – a literal change to all life on this planet. Because even for organisms like us, the humble human, who remains completely unable to produce a flower or fruit of our own, the spread of these flowering plants is an essential part of what keep the incredible balance of life on our planet possible.

“So, we eat the flowers? Then we just…” the curious monkey trailed off in confusion.

The trees just smiled. “No, we have something even better in mind for you. Ever tasted a banana?” And though the monkeys had in fact never tasted a banana they tried to act cool in front of the trees and nodded. “No, you haven’t” shouted one angry tree who had just a few minutes before invented the idea of fruit and therefore knew that the monkeys must be lying!

A mele ensued, a few rental chairs were tossed about, and then it was time for the afternoon snack break, and the conference’s much anticipated entertainment – a tribute band playing assorted hits of the Raspberries, Stray Cats, and The Beetles. An eclectic mix, but their stagecraft seemed to pull it all together, and so the conference mostly ran smoothly from there. It was explained to the animals that fruit was going to be their favorite thing. And all they had to do was agree to poop. You see, the trees knew that the in the time between eating the fruit, digesting the seeds, and eventually dropping them back out the other end, most animals would travel for miles. It was the perfect method to spread across the land, and even came with fertilizer free of charge. Those crafty trees had done it!

Of course, lacking any Netflix documentary production facilities at the time we are left with the fossil record alone – still most of this seem plausible to me. I’m pretty sure that’s how it all happened.

And so all the plants had to do was come up with a system to allow for the creation of both flowers and fruits. All of this extraHome&Harvest | Sept + Oct 2024

- growth takes a tremendous amount of energy! And running that powerplant takes an abundance of photosynthesis. But before they had even called the conference, the cunning trees had solved the problem. The key would be in an entirely new type of leaf!

Think back a moment to those conifers. We cut them down in December to bring a little bit of life into our homes, decorating the branches and leaving presents underneath. We hang their boughs along the halls, and dream of the greenery that will return after the snows. We use those conifers, because unlike the angiosperms, these still have greenery all through the year. Their needles are smaller, and often wax covered. They have much less surface area, and so even though they lack the power output of a broader leaf, they retain much more water in the summer, and are easier to protect from freezing damage in the winter. They stay around season after season and become a long-term investment for the tree. This is part of the reason that we find conifers in such harsh environments, such as the rocky and exposed peaks or punishing edges of deserts. The needles are sturdy, resilient, and dependable. But they lack the area to drive the higher levels of photosynthesis. To kick energy production up to another level, the angiosperms developed the broad leaves along with their amazing flowers and fruits. It is the power of their leaves that allows for the innovative designs in reproductive options.

But those leaves, that are such a boon in times of sun and rain become a burden in times of darkness and cold. The cycle of explosive growth and self-pruning is part and parcel of the life of these beautiful organisms.

“ The cycle of explosive growth and self-pruning is part and parcel of the life of these beautiful organisms. “ So in the spring, when we see leaves of green, there is actually a little more going on there. In fact, the green color that is caused by the presence of chlorophyll is simply abundant and masking the yellow and brown below. The presence of the chlorophyll – wich turns out to be too costly to upkeep in the winter – is what allows the plant to chemically transform light into energy-storing sugars. Along the way it swallows some carbon dioxide and burps out some oxygen. If you can remember the last time you sat through a bio class you may recall lots of C’s and O’s and H’s all lining up neatly on the left side of an arrow, and then a corresponding number of those same letters, in a completely disbursed grouping making new bits on the right side of the arrow. Don’t question it – its science, and people far smarter than you and I have already done the homework.

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As the fall draws down the hours of light in the day, and the sun lowers to less abundant angle in the sky, the whole process becomes a bit too expensive to maintain. Fresh green leaves that had burst onto the scene in spring with so much exuberance and vision for the future begin to realize that they have run the course. During this time, the branch is preparing as well. A change needs to occur, for both the leaves and tree. To protect itself once the leaves have moved on, the trees begin to block the connection and form a protective scaring In the abscission layer.

This constricts the flow water and nutrients that would normally pass between them. Then, finally as the chlorophyll supply winds down, we begin to see some of the other colors that have been there all along.

Carotenoids and flavonoids jump in to steal the show as soon as the green begins to dissipate. Quickly taking stage are chemicals like beta-carotene – absorbing blue and green light waves, and producing a ballet of reflected of yellow and red. This combination causes those brilliant orange hues leap forth and dazzle us during those early autumn strolls. The end is definite at this point, but the leaf wants to be remembered. The plant draws our awe.

As the beta-carotene breaks down, the xanthophyll remains.

There all along, the yellow suddenly explodes into view. If you love aspens as I do this is one of the highlights of the year. In mixed forests the dance happens separately but then all at once.

Miniscule variations in shade, temperature, nutrients, and health cause some branches to take steps out of time – painting a patchwork of multihued splendor. We are treated to oranges and yellows of various shades all at the same time. The dayspass and the coats zip higher as we continue our contemplative walks. The leaves refuse to let us down, and we are reminded to enjoy each day as it unfolds.

Increased volumes of sugar remain trapped in some leaves as the branch finishes cutting the connection. In some species, the leaves refuse to let this go to waste and begin their final artwork – fueled with an abundance of anthocyanin they begin to go red. Deeper and deeper, into a crimson that lights the canopy ablaze. Proud of their final production.

But we call the autumn the fall. And so it is for all things – even the beautiful leaves. They hold fast to their color, refusing to change who they really have been all this time, satisfied of the life they have lived and the service they have provided. Dropping first one by one and finally in droves – yellow, orange, red, they pile along the thinning grass and still put on their show.

We know that eventually only the tannins will remain – the cold and lonely browns of leaves long pressed and preserved. But by the time we see that the leaf has already passed on. The tree remains health and ready to winter. The spring is already planned for, and new magic will be ready to unfold.

Sometimes it feels strange to move on. But we do need to let go before we can take that next step. It’s a part of the process of change, and an integral aspect life. There is no room for a new leaf to grow in spring, if the brown, dead husks of leaves still remain from the fall. We can’t ever become if we need to persist in our present form. Endurance is noble, to a point – acceptance and hope take over from there.

Be the brave little leaf. Look fondly at what was. Take a deep breath. Know that there is still more to come.

Another deep breath.

Now let go.

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