A Fitting Monument

This is the mountain top - Mills Peak in the Sierra Mountains of Northern California - that is the final resting place for my parents, Arlys Louise and Harry Aaron Hemping. They are together overlooking the land that they fell in love with many years ago (the mid-50s) and made their home from then on. My mother was a "housewife" and my father worked for the U. S. Forest Service. They raised two of us. We are ten years apart in age so it was like they had two families.

I left home at 18 (two years of college and then to San Francisco to work for the U. S. Government) and from then on I was a visitor in their home. I kept in close contact over the years, mainly by letters (yep - snail mail) and telephone calls. I would call home and even though it was mom that I talked to, my dad was on the other line listening in and ever once in a while he would "add his two cents worth" on whatever subject we happened to be talking about.

I just went back to Graeagle for a visit and the homes that seemed so big when I was growing up now seem so small. It is amazing how time makes things seem to shrink. The house that we were living in when I left home is now a shop called Eco Centric. Seems strange to see display shelves and cases in place of the furniture that I remember. Time marches on with very little regard to those of us that leave.

California Fantasy

This was the beginning of my ride on my brother's motorcycle. It was my birthday wish. I rode roller coasters for 50 and motorcycle for 65 - never too old to have some fun. I also have some video - approximately 2 minutes worth, you definitely can tell that it is me having a blast.

Notice that I have a black boot on my foot - a week before I came on this trip I lost the battle with my driveway. I thought that I had only sprained my ankle, but it turns out that I have a small fracture and I was put into a removable cast. Oh joy - what a way to spend my vacation right. I have managed very well considering.

The mountain cabin - in the background - was a tree bedroom, two bath, two-story home that worked out really well for us. It was me, my brother, his wife and son and my niece Erin and her family, husband and three kids. It was a joy and I am very glad that I decided to do it. The motorcycle ride was the highlight of my stay.

We brought that beautiful mountain weather (70s during the day, 50 at night and very low humidity) back to Cottonwood with us. I am going to miss this weather. I wish that I could bottle it and bring it home with me. That would be the perfect ending to this trip.

The Driveway Won!!!

This is a second attempt to post - the first was wiped out by the computer or blogspot or somewhere else along the line. Sometimes computers are the bane of my existence, especially when they mess things up. I am trying again......

This picture is the result of my battle with my driveway on Saturday. I was walking to the mailbox at the end of my driveway, my foot misplaced itself half on the drive and half on the ground. I was thrown off balance and before you know it I am face down in the dirt. Not a flattering position for a 65 year old woman. Welcome to my new status as "senior citizen" or at least the brink of said status - still a few weeks to go.

Anyway, I have the equivalence of a very nasty rug burn and some swelling. The color purple is also prevalent in the mix. All this just one week before traveling to California for a family reunion. This mug will make for some interesting stories when it comes to picture time. If my body reacts as it normally does I should be at the "green yellow" stage of bruising by the time I am ready to leave for home.

I also did something to my left foot, not a sprain per se just a minor amount of pain and a lot of swelling. Hopefully my regimin of propping up, ice and wrapping it in a magnetic knee brace at night is going to make it easier for me to navigate the BWI, Fort Worth/Dallas and Reno airports next Saturday when I am traveling. So far these precautions seem to be helping. First true test will be tomorrow when I go to lunch with a friend. I have been looking forward to this lunch for a long time and I am not going to miss it.

My husband would have said, "the Hudak luck caught up with you - if it weren't for bad luck we would have no luck at all". He was a pessimist - me I am an optimist and fully believe that the Hemping perseverance will prevail and I will have no problems.

Winter 1/26 - 27/11

Tried to put these in order with the night pictures being first and the daytime pictures being last. I did not succeed as you can tell. This rivals the blizzard of 2010 but it is only one storm rather than two. By the end of 1/27/11 Terry had us dug out and the three vehicles that we use cleaned off. There is still snow on the Suburban which is the bigger vehicle in the 11:40 p.m. picture, which I took to show off how the snow was sticking to my wind chimes.

The patio and drive way were cleared off, but not for long. We are supposed to get more weather tonight, but this is going to be a icy mess. We do not need that - melting snow is creating plenty of icicles for us (my bad for getting gutter guards to keep the leaves out of the gutters). I do not think that I will be sticking my nose out the door tomorrow even though I have an appointment at 1:00 p.m. I will wait until mid morning to make my final decision, but I have the feel rescheduling is going to be prudent.

When drive was being cleared out the other day, I managed to find the only patch of ice on the driveway. It had been hiding underneath my car. Before I knew it I was on my knees in a mound of melting snow. It was a regular comedy act getting me to my feet again. Not something that I would want to repeat. I was lucky, no bruises, just sore joints a couple of days later. I guess I jolted the joints worse than what I thought. Ibuprophen became a close friend for a couple of days. I am back to normal and back to the walking routine that I had started before my "incident".

As you can tell, there is never a dull moment around the Hudak home. Always something happening to make life interesting or something to giggle about.

53 years in the making

This is me with my penpal (Adrienne Gelton) of 53 years. This was the very first time that we met in person. We were on the Strasburg RR in Pennsylvania when this picture was taken. It was a very hot day (7/6/10) - in the triple digits and it showed as far as I was concerned. Another passenger on the train took this picture for us. I have a ton of other pictures that we took during our three days in the Amish Country in Pennsylvania, as well as other pictures that she took to take back home (New Zealand) with her.

Even though it was 53 years ago that we started writing to each other and we had never met in person before, it was as if we had lived next door to each other all that time. We found out that we are actually very similar in many ways, i.e. the way that we think about things, the way we live our lives and the way that we were when we were kids. It has been fun and it is going to be a sad day when she leaves. We have been talking non-stop ever since I picked her up at Dullas International Airport in Virginia.

We went out to lunch today (7/12/10) with a friend of mine and had salads at Potbellies, a favorite place of mine to eat. We had a good time and on the way home we saw more sites and even more pictures were taken. It has been fun and a memory that I will have for the rest of my life. I am now very motivated to save up my money and go to New Zealand to see her country and meet her family. I can't wait and am very excited to get started.

A Tribute to my Friend

George Davis was one of the three muskateers. There was him, Bill Sims and my Paul. Their favorite place to hang out was the mechanic shop down at the corner. This friendship started in 1986 when we moved to Carroll County and grew into a "family". Bill is the only one left. George died on Easter morning. It is a big loss, he was one of the good guys. He had some medical issues that were starting to wear him down and then the final blow was dealt.

He found out about two months ago that he had cancer. He had enough time to go through two bouts of chemo and one bout of radiation, none of which worked. He was tired and in a lot of pain at the end but he is now at peace. Someone told me today that he is in heaven with Paul and they are sitting around having a cold beer. I can picture them doing exactly that.

The three muskateers - they were quite a group. Theirs was the kind of friendship that is hard to find. If one needed help the other two were there no questions asked. George and his significant other, Joan, became my friends as well.

George was my "oyster stew" buddy. I have a family tradition of making oyster stew every Christmas Eve (been a tradition with me since before I can remember); however, neither Paul nor Terry liked oyster stew I needed someone to help me eat it every year. So on Christmas Eve I made it and on Christmas Day I would take a big jar of it over to George. Now I have to find someone else to share my oyster stew with - it's not the same unless you have someone to share it with. He has been sharing with me for 23 years - I have lost a good friend.

I have but one regret - I was not as good a friend to George as Paul was. I should have visited him more often after Paul died, but I didn't. George and Joan were in my thoughts a lot over the years, but it was Christmas Day before I would actually see them.

George's "gathering" is Wednesday. Terry and I will be going to pay our last respects. Bill will be there - the only muskateer left. Joanie and I will have to represent the other two members of the group. It is sad saying good-bye for the last time.

It just hit me....

I now know why the day (1/24/10) is so gloomy. It is mom's birthday and she is no longer here to celebrate it. In four more days it will be dad's birthday and he is no longer here to celebrate it. Sad state of affairs.

I miss them both and am very thankful that they raised me to be the person that I am today. I was fortunate in that I got to tell them each just how much they meant to me before they passed. That was very important to me. I needed them to know - now I tell the whole world - they were the best and I miss them a lot. I look at the picture of Mills Peak every day and thank God that they were in my life.

Party, Party, and Party some more

Friday night I attended a celebration of life so to speak. There were several people at my old job that celebrated their time on the job around the same time - most were celebrating 30 years on the job, but there was one 25 year and one 20 year celebration.

These are old school employees who take pride in their job and the "company" they work for. They are all looking forward to the day they can retire, but they are doing it with a tear in their eye. They will know when it is time to walk out the door and start the next phase of their life just like I knew. In the mean time - party on.

The setting was nice, the food was good, the program was very informative and it was nice to sit and talk with former co-workers. Best of all were the hugs that I collected along the way. I was not a hugger when I moved to Baltimore, but I have learned to be one and it is one of the nicest things that happened to me since moving here. It is nice to feel a warm heartfelt embrace from a friend or even from someone that you don't know all that well.

Anyway, congrats to all and may they live to retire and enjoy the next phase of what God has planned for them.

"Cool" chick

Check out the "cool chick" perched on the
ice cream maker. That's me alright. We
(meaning the gals in Home EC) were making a dinner for our parents. We were having homemade ice cream for dessert. Some yahoo decided it was a good photo op and it made it into the year book for my freshman year.

Jimmy Joy was recruited to turn the handle and Jewel Weaver was the alternate sitter. She was relieved that the picture was taken prior to her turn on the maker. Lucky her. What some kids won't do for their parents.

This one of the many many pictures on the El Tigre page on MyFamily.com, however, this is not the page that has my actual class picture on it. Can't say much for the quality of the picture though.

These are some of the people that will be celebrating a 45th reunion in July, 2009. It does not seem possible--I don't feel much older than I did when I graduated from high school. Better make that college - I spent two years in Susanville, CA attending Lassen Junior College. It was what I call "a one haller" - it was a single building (walk in the front door, walk down the hall and walk out the back door) located next to the high school building on the main drag. There were 300 guys and 50 gals - talk about the deck being stacked in my favor. Most of the students were in the Forestry, Agriculture or Gunsmithing programs; however, this is where I learned my secretarial skills - typing, shorthand, business machines, business math in addition to the regular classes i.e. English, history etc. I have an AA Degree in Secretarial Arts - not really all that grand sounding but it got me started in my career with the Federal Government.

The ratio of guys and gals was great from my standpoint - I had quite a few "guy" friends, but no real boyfriend. Managed to find a soul mate of sorts in that we were both born during the early morning hours (approximately 6:30 a.m.) of August 6th - me in Iowa, him in California. Now I ask you - how often does that happen? His name is Alexander "Sandy" Dancy. Wonder what he is doing and where he is now. I do know that mom was not all that impressed the weekend that I came home on the back of his Harley motorcycle. He was a big teddy bear and a good friend. I had a grand time - it was quite an experience and one that I would not mind having again. It was a thrill to say the least and a great way to travel when you are young and carefree. A nice memory to close with...........

Thanksgiving Day Talk with my brother

My little brother called me on Turkey Day - we spent almost an hour on the phone. This is probably the longest that we have talked in a very long time. We spent most of that time remembering way back when - I was even remembering things that came before his time. He was conceived in Iowa, but born in California. So we made the trip from Iowa to California at the same time, just not in the same way. Columbus Day, 1955 was the day that we hit Donner Pass - at that time the road was two lanes (one way in each direction) and no gaurd rails to keep you from sliding down the mountain if you left the road. My very first experience with "really scary" mountain roads - what a welcome to your new home.

We (or I should say I) talked about family in Iowa - Grandparents, Uncles, Aunts, and cousins. Iowa was a happy time for me - I loved my grandparents very much as I lived with them most of the time because grandma took care of me while mom worked - my mother was ahead of the times and was a working mom. She worked as the linotypist for the town newspaper, which just happened to be owned by grandpa and run by Uncle Butch (my mother's brother).

I talked about Richfield and why we moved to California in the first place (Iowa held no future for my dad and Uncle Max said come here and I will find you a job - a furniture factory as it turned out). Six weeks after "Lil Bro" was born we moved to the mountains - that is where most of his memories start.

The mountains was where our parents planted their roots and raised us. It was rough at times. After working in Sloat (a saw mill) as a scaler (he measured how many board feet each log would make) he started with the Forest Service. The first three years he was a probationary employee which meant that he was laid off for the winter - that is when I learned the venison, fish and once in a while a goose were staples in our lives. Our first house in the mountains was at Parkers = you look over the railing of the front porch and you were looking down into the ravine at the river (Feather River). We later moved to Graeagle and started a whole new chapter in our lives.

We were remembering all the people that lived around us - the Kurdupskis, Mrs. Sawtell, the Colliers, the Souths, Willie Burns and his wife and the Bethurams (sp?) and so many more. It is funny just how many things can pop into your mind at the mere mention of a name or place.

It is funny, we were wondering what had happened to the South family the other day and today when I opened my e-mails there was a message from Gwen South, who now lives in Utah with her husband and two kids. That was a nice surprise. I am hoping that we can start communicating and get to know one another again. We spent quite a bit of one or two summers on my front porch playing the games of clue or canasta -

This is how I spent part of my Thanksgiving - besides eating a nice meal with my family here in Maryland I had a nice time talking with my brother - hope that this is a trend that will continue. We only have each other now and it would be nice to get to know each other again - he was eight when I left home to never return on a permanent basis. There have only been visits since then and many miles in between.

Down Memory Lane

I have just spent a good portion of my day on MyFamily.com (the ElTigre page) looking at old photos and seeing who else has signed on. There were almost 200 pages of photos to look at. Most of them were of people that I did not know personally, but did recognize their names. This is a "neat" website and it brought back a lot of memories. I guess that I am going to have to go through my old photos and see what I can come up with just so I can make sure that me and my family leave their mark in the history of PHS. I graduated in 1964 and my brother graduated ten years later.

I did not join the Portola family until the fifth grade (most of the members of my class went to school from one through twelve). The pictures of the people that were in my class really gave me a start. I have a hard enough time remembering how they looked way back when, but now I have to see those young people in older faces. All of a sudden I realized just how much I have changed over the years. I look at pictures from when I graduated (1964) and wonder how I ever got to where I am at today - a grey haired retiree starting a new phase of her life.

I saw a picture of the guy that was the object of my first junior high crush. He did not know that I existed and truth be told I was probably better off for it, but that is hindsight talking. My trip down memory lane led me to remember that my date for the spring formal (7th grade) was the very same person that was my boyfried and date to my senior prom. Of course the years in between (8 -11) he was someone else's boyfriend and I did not have a boyfriend at all. I was what you would call a "wall flower" and was always the person whose name you may have known, but was always in the background and unheard from. I was never an outgoing person and thus never a member of the "in crowd".

I had my own group of friends however - I guess we were what the youngster today call geeks. We spent our time getting an education (the smart ones who did their best to make grading curves hard) and being the "worker bees" on the committees who got very little acknowledgement for our participation. I must be frank - there is actually very little that I remember about my years at PHS.

I remember some of my teachers - Miss Corbin (Corbi) who taught art and gym, Mr. Bibb who taught English, Mr. Thompson who taught band and English, Miss Christopherson who taught typing and accounting, Mr. Donninwirth who taught driver's ed, Mr. Cimaglia who taught geography, Mr. Popish who taught science and Mr. Rowden who taught math just to name a few. Each and every one of these teachers and all of the others did their level best to make sure that we learned all that we would need to make it in the real world after we graduated. They were fairly successful with regard to me.

I remember certain other things i.e. making dinner for our parents (a home ec project) - I was in charge of cooking the sweet potatoes with the pressure cooker - i opened it too soon and the sweet potatoes ended up on the ceiling before they made it to the dinner plates. I was also part of the group that made dessert (homemade ice cream), which activity made an appearance in the yearbook that year (a pic of me sitting on an ice cream maker while the handle was being turned).

I remember pep rallies for football games and basketball games but not the games because I lived ten miles out of town and did not have transportation back and forth. I remember exactly where I was the day that Kennedy was shot - in my math class - and who told us - Mrs. Parrish the school secretary. It was senior slave day and it turned out to be a bummer.

Like I said before I remember my first spring formal (7th grade and the last dance was to the tennessee waltz) and my senior prom (SAWADII was the theme) when I wore a red velvet dress and red velvet heels with rhinestone heart. (I still have those shoes after all these years - don't fit anymore but I can't bring myself to give them up.) By the way, SAWADII is hello/goodbye in Thai. This was in honor of our exchange student Polly Pesalapan (ph) from Thailand.

I also remember that I when I was a sophomore I went to the junior prom with Jerry Thomas. A tall "drink of water" that was sweet as sweet could be. He was another one of us geeks. A super nice guy that honored me by asking me to his junior prom. Unfortunately less than a few months after he graduated from high school in 1963 he was killed in an automobile accident coming home from college. The car was driven by his best friend Stark Hunter whose life was forever changed. I don't think that he ever forgave himselt for being the driver.

I remember the school bus driver that I had for my entire scholastic career in Portola - Jim Burton. I used to complain about the brakes squealing - he would say "this way I know they are working, start worrying when you don't hear them". He would often hollar at me "Hemping be quiet" - not that I was all that noisy, my voice just carried over everyone elses. He was also a stickler for being on time. You were at your bus stop on time or you got left behind. He waited for no one. We never missed a day of school for any reason - no broken down buses, driver sick, or weather of any kind. He was a good man and got us back and forth to school promptly and safely for many years. He was a credit to school bus drivers everywhere.

Well, between looking at old pictures, sending a message of thanks to a beloved teacher and writing this entry, I have managed while away a whole afternoon. This grey day was a little brighter because of these activities. This being retired allows me to do these things and not feel guilty about the time spent doing them - this is going to be fun.......till next time!!!