Bronco Country II

My friend, Rhonda, and I started the heirloom saving job in the afternoon. My brilliant sister had purchased contractor strength garbage bags the week before and left them for me. The task at hand was to locate and identify items that only a Miller would love, items that could be auctioned off and items that had served their purpose and would now meet their doom. There were a lot of the latter. I had to make some hard decisions and made good progress filling the bags. Then I would come across a heart-stopper.

My mother made this little puppet for her kindergarten class.
When she had us, she used it to tell us special stories. Very magical.

My Dad wore these wooden shoes around the house for years.
I remember him clomp, clomping as he played "Oh Susanna"
on the harmonica to call us to family scripture study every morning.

We laughed and worked until it wasn't fun anymore. Then Rhonda and her husband, Bill, took me to the world famous "Firebaugh Restaurant" for dinner. At our house, every Friday was date night for Mom and Dad (beginning at about noon). Tuesday night was date night for Dad and a kid. We couldn't wait for our turn to go to this most delicious of Mexican Restaurants. Years after that, Dad would visit us in various places in the US where we would try and take him to eat Mexican food. He was never satisfied  as nothing could compare to this beloved place.

Still in business 40 years later.

Even the interior is the same

#2 baby

And as an added treat we ran into Shelly and Ronald Wood and their son, Susan and Chip Moore, and Tim Orlando. I hadn't seen them since high school. I had actually never met Tim, but he told me a funny story about my brother. Tim had been his baseball coach. My brother had walked on his hands around the diamond, stood up and said, "Hi. I'm Charlie."

Susan Gamboni and Shelly Cotta

The next day was all business.  Rhonda went to Home Depot and brought me all the packing supplies I could ever want and a sandwich. I sorted from morning til afternoon and saved all the memories that I could. Then I stopped to go to dinner with my brother Sam.  I have to share an interesting little miracle.

Of course there was this on hwy 59.

Rhonda had googled the best restaurants in Atwater where Sam lives.  I wrote the name (Tary Boscolo's) and address down, but did not have my GPS because only one of my suitcases made it to Fresno, the empty one. When I picked Sam up, his landlady suggested a family restaurant by the bank where Sam walks, but he had chosen Denny's in Merced. I followed the road out the way I came, and tried to go back to Merced, but when I got on highway 99 I was going north instead of south. I said, "Lets just drive around Atwater and see what we find." We exited and started driving down the street and came right to Tary Boscolo's. I would have never stopped there had Rhonda not done the research.

Sam and I had a nice dinner. It was fun to see where he lives and look at his scrapbooks and pictures and have him tell me stories and rap.

He showed me this letter he had saved from childhood.
Blessing on the head of this friend.

The next morning I boxed everything up that I could, loaded up Rhonda's truck and went to the post office that hadn't changed at all in 35 years, and it was old then. And then I said goodbye to Bronco country.

The little house our family rented when we first got to town.

Bronco Stadium. "It's blue we're fighting for. It's gold that's
gonna raise that score!"

Aqua center. I could go swimming any time I wanted as long
as I would ride my bike and survive the dogs. I jumped off the high dive for the first
time here.

High School tennis court where I played a lot of mediocre tennis.

DPHS

Senior Patio

If you needed something to eat during school, Don's was
the place. Can I recommend a cherry teem?
(right across the street)

If you needed a little something after school. Or if you wanted
to see who was in town, drag main and circle around Butch's.
And FYI, that's an ice cream cone not a cowboy hat.
It took me a few years to figure that out.

Johnnie's cleaners. Thanks for not changing.

My Dad's office. Well, actually Dr. Schofield's office, but it
was my dad's office. All of his kids worked there.

The hospital 

Pioneer Drug which used to be Moore Drug. My first
job not working for my dad.

The post office. Just like old times except for the whipper snappers
working behind the counter using the internet. That's just not right.

This is a canal. It's official use is irrigation.
There have been reported incidents of swimming, (not sanitary)
fishing (great for catfish and crawdads), and
 water skiing. All you need is a friend with a truck and a rope.

Going to Fresno the back way. Y'all better know your roads
and avenues because this is all the help you get.

Bronco Country/AKA Dos Palos, CA

My family moved to Dos Palos, CA when I was in fifth grade.  My dad's friend from dental school was practicing in Merced and told him about a little town in the San Joaquin valley that needed a dentist. After prayer and consideration my parents took us from rainy Oregon to our new life in sunny California.

This was a new world for us. I had never seen cotton growing in a field and had my first experience "tromping cotton." That's just stomping it down and unfluffing it to make room so more can be dumped in the trailer. Since then I've heard the stories of children being smothered by cotton, etc. but still...it was a great time.

I was also introduced to pomegranates. From my first taste it was a long lasting relationship. I spent every fall with stained, brown fingers from constant pomegranate consumption. I just love the shiny maroon or pink arils that burst with tart sweetness.

My parents raised their 10 children in that small town of 2,000 people. Our new friends were mostly associated with farming, education, or small merchandising.  There were 2 restaurants, 2 burger places, 2 drugstores, a hardware store, post office, 2 grocery stores, 2 liquor stores, a dry cleaning place, a jewelers, a hotel, about 4 gas stations, a small hospital, a couple of doctors, 2 banks, a beauty shop, an accountant, an insurance guy and not too much more. Most of the people were Catholics, a few Methodists, some Church of Christ, Baptists, Apostolic, and our family, the Mormons.  There was a widowed teacher and her son who went to church with us also, but our church was in Los Banos, the next town over.

The school activities brought the town together, but nothing unified like High School Football. Basketball and baseball were fun in their season, but seriously, we were valley football champs time after time and all were in agreement, "This is Bronco Country!"

Everyone in our family has since left California, not being farmers or being able to afford the cost of living, and not liking crowds, but Dos Palos is still my hometown and I loved a lot of people there.

Last week I had the opportunity to return.  My parents are living permanently in UT and are ready to sell the house that was a magical place for us for many years.  When they left they weren't sure if it was to be permanent, so they just took what they needed to live and left a lot of memories in the form of journals, pictures, art work and keepsakes. I was a girl with a mission, because I just love journals, pictures, art work and keepsakes. So I returned for the rescue.

I've been away for a while and had forgotten many aspects of Bronco Country and what makes it a special place. Flying over the Sierra Nevada's was a perfect welcome to the California where they grow things as opposed to beach California, dot com California or heavy traffic California.

I felt so nostalgic driving by the beautiful crops. Did you know that 30% of the world's produce is grown in Central Valley California?

This is where I have to confess that when I lived there and my grandpa came to visit he would ask what was growing in the various fields, including the one 30 feet from my house. My response was a puzzled, "I don't know, but how do you like my outfit?" Teenagers...Now, I want to know, "What's growing in all these fields? I recognize almonds, cotton, and tomatoes, but had to be taught about alfalfa. Did you know that the farmers leave a strip of alfalfa at harvest to placate the bugs so they won't go to the cotton?

On this visit, I stayed with my sweet friend, Rhonda, who grew up a couple of miles from me. I could ride my bike to her house if I could survive the dogs on the road. I actually never got bitten, but being chased was always an adrenaline rush. Sometimes we'd meet at the Jr. High which was about at halfway point..

When I was in middle school, I had 2 choices, I could ride the crowded bus or walk a mile. I smile now because a mile is a cinch, but it felt like a long ways on the country road.  My french horn case always snagged my panty hose while I walked, and no one would ever wear a dress without wearing panty hose.

I always kept my eye on this house because it was right across from my driveway/lane/1/4 mile gravel road leading home.

This is where we would "Run down to the end of the lane" and  get the mail.

 My house was up this drive in back of the trees. To the left of this road was our field which we rented to the dairy across the street. It was a bonine maternity ward of sorts. To this day whenever I hear a cow moo or a rooster crow it feels like home.

Because my dad now lived in zone 7 he planted a million different varieties of fruit.

Pomegranates

Nectarines

Peaches

Now that I think about it, my dad is a collector. Not only did he want every type of fruit, he wanted every type of bird. We had peacocks, chickens, and my dad's favorite-guinea hens. They were his answer to pestilence.

Even after 35 years this house is home to me. It's not the same as it was in the glory days (a million Millers running around), but there are those elements that scream, "Millers lived here."

Mom's carefully chosen used brick exterior and willow tree.

Paned windows, they had to be real panes, not the fake kind
that make window washing possible.

Mom's dark stained banister and signature rose carpet.

Tile counters, dark wood, and more rose carpet.

B

Stenciled children throughout the house 

 Painted pictures of my mother at different ages
 surrounding a picture of motherhood.

Such a nice place to raise a family.

The best laid plans...

I had the most fabulous weekend planned. It was going to be perfect. My teenagers were going to be at Youth Conference, so that gave me an excellent chance to go out of state without being missed.

Otherwise, who else would make the job lists? Son #5 had invited me to their baby gender reveal in Elk Grove. It was to be held Saturday. I have never been to a reveal before since I'm old and most of my gender reveals were called delivery. So that was going to be super fun.

Then I found out that my parents are going to put our family home on the market in the near future. Before the reveal, I could drive down to Dos Palos and rescue the heirlooms that were in storage at the house. To make it even more exciting, I was going to stay with the darling Rhonda Crivelli who still lives in my home town. I had visions of all the pictures I would take of my parent's place and the little town I grew up in, and then I would blog about it.

My only picture from my "would be" weekend

Well, the airport miracle that happens before I make the flight didn't happen for me. I was the last of 3 standbys called to the gate. The door was to shut in 5, 4, 3 minutes. I was ready to board and then up walked a distressed passenger with a ticket. Phew, she made it. I did not. It was her day for a miracle. I would have to take my turn another time.

I was trying to be brave when I realized my weekend had just gotten very unfun, and my bags were on the way to Sacramento. Well, I don't like unfun weekends so I'm going to recount the great parts of my pretty boring days, in-state, without my blow-dryer.

1. I witnessed some excellent customer service. My ticket agent was cheerful and relaxing and I'm sure not a little diffusing for summer travelers. On the train there was a flight attendant who wasn't actually working yet helping an elderly gentleman navigate the train and the gates. She volunteered to look up another passenger's gate information and was just so stinkin' helpful. I want to be like her. I shopped for groceries at Publix and was offered assistance out to the car so convincingly that I accepted. And when I took the just-purchased-money-pit-of-a-used-car-for-the-teenagers to the dealer for expensive repairs, they offered me a rental car to use until my broken car was mended.

2. I spent time visiting with people I love. I got to talk on the phone with the darling Rhonda Crivelli, and while it's not the same as being there, I haven't talked to her in years. Her happiness and cheerful nature oozed through cellular land and made my heart smile. My 19 yr. old and I talked around the table like we never get to do when everyone else is home. I love that kid. My lovely friend, Rebecca and I drove to the temple where I saw another lovely friend, Jodie. This is the second time I have seen Jodie at the Atlanta temple which is impressive since she lives in Kansas. I'll count that as a miracle. I chatted with Carrie and Mallory for a bit, and I had some laughs on the phone with my sister, Melinda, which we were trying to avoid since she's 3 days post-op.

3. I also made myself  present for the skyping of a mission call. This was a big deal and definitely worth staying home from a trip for. This new missionary will be going to the Arizona-Phoenix-North mission. It's nice when southern boys can stay warm.

4. And tonight I get to watch any movie I want with no imput from anyone outside my demographic. "Pride and Prejudice" it is.

5. Tomorrow, since this is 2014, I'll just watch the gender reveal on Skype. Remember when there was no Skype or cell phones or internet or computers or ultrasounds? Life is so great now. I guess every day is a miracle.

Happy Father's Day, sons.

When my little boys were born I found it a bit challenging to choose a name for them. They were so tiny and soft and sweet. I wanted to name them, "Itty bitty snookems." It took faith and imagination to believe that they were going to be men and needed manly names. After realizing that, I chose Daniel, and Brandon, and Nathan, and Aaron, and Jacob, and Andrew, and Gabriel. As luck would have it the wittle cutie sweeties grew into strong men with the perfect names for them.

Their little chubby cheeks have given way to chiseled strong jaws. Their pipe cleaner arms are now muscular and their penchant for running crazy making sure they are having fun this minute has evolved into planning and preparing for the future.

This is a huge relief for a mother. I have spent some serious anxiety sessions worrying over who would marry a guy who didn't change his socks, or a guy who left bags of bagels (after seminary breakfast) to mold in the back of the car, or a guy who left every single possession in a trail like Hansel and Gretel, or a guy who wore the same shirt as often as he could, or a guy who didn't shower for days even though there was no shortage of sports in their life. But someone did marry them, not just any someone, some really fantastic someones.

The question, "What are you going to be when you grow up?" is very common. We ask it to start a conversation, but believe me, we're all concerned. It's cute when the kids are little and they say they're going to be an astronaut or a professional soccer player or a famous video game maker. But at some point it becomes, "No, seriously. How are you going to support your family?" But do you know what? It works out. These sweet little babies have gifts and desire and direction. Watching who they become when they grow up is actually very gratifying so look forward to it.

But the most enjoyable "Who they've become" game is watching them as fathers. These men who used to be boys have boys (and girl) of their own. They are looked up to, depended on and adored. They are leading their families in the directions they have chosen  to go. They are teaching their children about Star Wars, Legos, and more importantly, love and God. They are keeping them fed, clothed, housed, and safe. It's a grateful mother that watches her sons loving and being loved by a beautiful family. Happy Father's Day, Itty bitty cutie sweeties.

And this is my darling son-in-law who I wish I had known when he was an itty-bitty-cutie-sweetie, but at least I know him now. He takes wonderful care of my daughter and grandson and I'm very thankful to have him in our family.

And guess what else? Next Father's Day these sons will be fathers :) :) :) Happy Father's Day 2015!