🍎 Monday Comes and Monday goes

 

Happy Monday! 

I like Mondays, but I didn’t always feel this way when I was younger. I read that people spend about 33 minutes complaining about Monday. When you think about it, that’s a lot of time wasted grumbling about something we can’t change. 

Monday comes and Monday goes. 

So let's dig into this Monday post about...Friday! 

After returning from the grocery store, we decided to have a picnic and take Laydee along, as she’s been so bored lying around during her healing process. We drove about 10 miles past Old Shasta, along Whiskeytown Creek, to French Gulch.

The day was beautiful, with pleasant breezes and temperatures in the mid-70s. This site was once part of a large estate featuring 1,000 fruit orchards, including apples, pears, and peaches, as well as 400 grapevines. Established around 1850 by a local pioneer searching for gold, and Shasta became his home. 

A portion of the property has been designated for various uses, with the house now under the jurisdiction of the parks department. We visited a small area off the road, featuring decent bank fishing and remnants of the original heritage fig and apple trees.

Berries make it a great foraging spot in season. We missed picking figs this summer, and most apples were gone, except those on the upper branches.

I could practically taste the sweetness of those apples in the tree, and the aroma was delightful. It's been a long time since picking apples off a tree. 

My husband, ☝ ☝ ever the romantic, always seeks ways to delight me. He sets off to climb this old apple tree, its sturdy branches laden with ripe apples just waiting to be picked.  While he pretends it’s my wish for sweet, succulent apples that drives him, we both know the truth: it’s his desire for me to create an apple dessert that truly inspires his adventurous spirit.

I always deeply cherish my time here. When we travel 10 to 12 miles out and find ourselves in solitude, and it's truly remarkable for someone like me, who has always lived in congested areas with hordes of people and cars. My mind often wanders back to the days of the gold rush, and I try to envision the experiences of those pioneers.

The whole time we were there, not one person came - we were truly alone. 💗

Walking around the yard - the flowers that struggle in the intense heat are starting to bloom again.  

I think it’s fair to say that Autumn has arrived in Shasta County. Although our Fall differs from that of other regions in the country, it is indeed present and has been acknowledged. Daytime temperatures hover around 80, while the evenings cool down to the 50s and 60s, making it perfect for sleeping with the windows wide open.

 I've never had better sleep.

I'm excited to embrace this Monday with a sense of renewed energy and feelings of peace and gratitude. It's incredible to think that this feeling began with a simple picnic last Friday. I feel well-rested and ready to take advantage of the opportunities that lie ahead for this week. 

Until Next Time,

Debby

This and That

Source: X - 

Old Courthouse and Jail which is now a museum. 

This was from our snow yesterday.

 The town of Old Shasta is west of us,

 and that was more snow than what we received. 

Source: X - 

The old brick ruins of an old Gold Mining town. 

My husband finished the four-berry Hamantaschen. 

I personally like the apricot flavor best, but the berry ones were tasty too!

We expect rain and wind in the coming days, but there's no more snow. March began quietly, like a lamb with 80-degree temperatures, and as it looks now, it could go out like a Lion.  

I reached out to my late brother's family in Alabama to see how they were doing. They were all staying safe in my niece's tornado shelter designed to withstand E-F5 tornadoes, except for my sister-in-law, Edith. She chose to stay at home with her dogs because her house has a basement. While we spoke on the phone, she was monitoring the weather updates and decided it was time to get her medicine and take the dogs down to the basement for added safety. She made the basement cozy, setting up a bed and everything she needed to feel comfortable.

We prayed for their safety, and I truly hope they will be okay.

Laydee is showing a little improvement, and that’s a good sign because the second shot will really be when it’s fully taken hold. She is managing her lameness in her own way—not in any pain. My husband built an attachment to the wooden step to make it easier for her to go on and off the sofa. 

Source: Freepic

I was planning this year to just get some freshly sliced corned beef, some rye bread (I like Swedish rye best), and some Swiss cheese and make a hearty potato and cabbage soup for St Patrick's Day. 

Well, the husband said he would miss the aroma of it cooking in the house. It isn't that hard of a meal. I always enjoyed the way my Mom made it, or anyone else but me. We used to go to a Pub here in town, but they sold out, and it's no longer an Irish Pub. It's not my favorite meal - but I do like it. So it's looking like I will cave in and cook a corned beef this year. 

The things I do for my husband, all because he bakes! 

I’m finally feeling refreshed after losing that hour of sleep. I guess it’s just part of getting older, since it never used to bother me this much. Next year, I’ll try to prepare for it better. This week, I took some extra naps and went to bed earlier, and now I feel much more rested.

I hope your Saturday has been enjoyable, restful, safe and warm. 

Until next time, 

Debby

 

Part Two - The Pioneer Baby's Grave

Yesterday, my husband and some members of the local Jewish synagogue came together for a workday to tend to the maintenance of the baby's grave. I wanted to be there, but I couldn't make it. Thankfully, they received assistance from a youth group belonging to the Seventh Day Adventist church in our town, and they got a lot of work done.

In the top left corner, it appears as though a tree has been deliberately planted.

After removing all the overgrown shrubs and hauling them out of the area, the impact of the scorching 100+ degree dry summer heat is evident—the area is devoid of any grass or flowers. It seems impossible for anything to grow here without access to a spigot for watering. 

Despite this, it's clear that the area relies solely on the natural resources provided by our Creator, God. Even in the face of a fire, it's remarkable how God safeguarded the grave of this little pioneer baby grave for 159 years.  

When my husband sent me his photos, I reflected on the above verse.  Life is temporary like some flowers. Amidst our world's temporary and delicate nature, one eternal constant endures—the timeless wisdom and unwavering truth found in God's Word.

 After the winter rains, the once desolate and dry land will undergo a transformation—vibrant new grasses will sprout, and wildflowers may adorn the scenery once again. We monitor the area closely. I am considering scattering a native wildflower mix in the area.

I'm sorry if you're disappointed that I cannot show you all a more dramatic transformation following the clean-up. However, the area will not be fully restored to its former beauty for many years. The initial clean-up has significantly improved the area, reflecting a strong sense of stewardship. Most importantly, it fostered camaraderie and new friendships. 

Alone Again 

The synagogue invited my husband to participate in the Mourners Kaddish in Hebrew before he departed.

Mourner’s Kaddish in English Translation 

Glorified and sanctified be God’s great name throughout the world which He has created according to His will. May He establish His kingdom in your lifetime and during your days, and within the life of the entire House of Israel, speedily and soon; and say, Amen. 

May His great name be blessed forever and to all eternity. Blessed and praised, glorified and exalted, extolled and honored, adored and lauded be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, beyond all the blessings and hymns, praises and consolations that are ever spoken in the world; and say, Amen. 

May there be abundant peace from heaven, and life, for us and for all Israel; and say, Amen. 

He who creates peace in His celestial heights, may He create peace for us and for all Israel; and say, Amen.

After my son Michael passed away in 2003, our Jewish congregation in San Francisco showed us incredible support. Even though I am not Jewish, they attended his "very Christian" celebration of Life and continued to offer their love and care to me.  Every Shabbat, during the liturgy, there was a special moment where those who had experienced recent loss stood up, and the Mourners Kaddish was recited in both Hebrew and English. Over time, I learned how to say it in Hebrew. The English version of the prayer held deep meaning for me, providing comfort and solace during a difficult period. To this day, hearing the Mourners Kaddish gives me chills and brings back memories of the overwhelming love and support I received from my Jewish friends during that time. It's a beautiful and poignant reminder of their compassionate embrace, that I will never forget. 

__________________

I couldn't make it on Saturday because I was volunteering at our local Day in Al-anon. I was working in the kitchen, preparing the produce for a salad bar when I accidentally cut off a small piece of my left thumb. Despite the mishap, I managed to clean and bandage the cut and then put on a glove so I could continue with the food preparation. 

Ouch! I have a pretty deep cut that sliced a part of my nail and the nailbed. It's quite inconvenient having to keep a bandage on my thumb, and it's made me realize just how essential my thumb is for nearly everything I do.

Well this is it for me on this last Monday of September which I find really hard to believe. It seems like it was  September 10, a week ago. 

Until tomorrow -

Debby

The Story of the Pioneer Baby's Grave

During the Gold Rush era on December 14, 1864, baby Charles peacefully passed away in the loving embrace of his mother, Helena, and his father, George.

His parents came from Prussia and embarked on a journey to America, ultimately arriving in New York City. Driven by the allure of prosperity, they joined the throngs of fortune seekers making their way to California during the gold rush. After striking gold, they put down roots in Red Bluff, California, where George established and managed a general store. Tragically, the loss of their infant prompted the family to seek a resting place in a Jewish cemetery, which at that time was located 30 miles north in Shasta. The arduous full-day journey to lay their baby to rest reflected the ruggedness of the era.

The other siblings were left in the dark about the location of their baby brother's grave, either because their parents never disclosed it to them or because they were too young to remember. Following their parents' passing, the siblings developed a strong sense of curiosity and embarked on an extensive yet unsuccessful quest to locate their brother's final resting place. Eventually, they came to the realization that the grave was likely situated in a secluded, unmarked area, making it virtually impossible to locate. As a result, they reluctantly abandoned their search.

In 1923, surveyors working on a new state highway route from Redding to Weaverville stumbled upon the lone grave of an old Jewish cemetery. This solitary grave stood directly in the path of the proposed new highway, presenting a unique challenge for the highway construction project. Instead of covering the grave with pavement, they split the highway in that location. For a decade, the Pioneer Baby's grave remained in the middle of Highway 299 West.

Over time, the roads needed to be expanded. By then, the landmark had already gained widespread recognition in the area. The Shasta County Historical Society officially recognized it as a Pioneer monument. The headstone underwent cleaning, and the Hebrew and English inscriptions were clearly defined. Additionally, the iron fence was repainted, and a sturdy cement base was laid.

The rededication ceremony took place on May 28, 1933. The three siblings, who lived in San Francisco, learned about the event through notices and made the journey to Shasta to attend the memorial services and rededication.

Four years later, the Hebrew text was finally translated.

In 1947, further modifications were made to the highway, including widening and the removal of a curve next to the monument. Today, the pioneer baby's grave rests 100 feet from the side of the highway on a gentle slope along a dusty strip of the old road.

The area used to be filled with an abundance of green trees before the devastating Carr fire of 2018.

As you can see, the tranquil area was adorned with tall trees in the background, creating a peaceful atmosphere.

On the top left, you'll notice the remnants of the old road winding its way through the landscape, a testament to this place's history.

This is the area just two weeks ago. 

The area shows signs of improvement—although slow. It will be many years before  its once tranquil and picturesque charm is fully restored.

Baby Charles's grave still stands - 

Grave as it stood, two weeks ago

Unkempt, but that will soon change...

Stay tuned to Part Two!

Apples, Bats, Butterflies, and Lizards

Apples are in. 

There are apple festivals and harvests going on all over, up here in far Northern California. 

So we moseyed on over to the Camden House in the Whiskeytown National Recreational Area, just outside the old mining town of Shasta. 

They had some apples—we could taste them and sample some of the entries for the baking contest.

One apple I tasted was a northern California apple called a pink pearl. It's a pink-fleshed apple that is one of the best apples I have ever tasted. Stores don't sell them. I was told there is one farmer who occasionally brings them in from her farm but you never know when. 

In Northern California, Albert Etter spent years developing a unique apple variety descended from the "Surprise" apple, known for its pink flesh. It became known as the Pink Pearl apple. In 1945, the apple seed was patented and officially named "Pink Pearl," marking a significant milestone in apple cultivation history.

The California Gravenstein apple is my all-time favorite variety. Its rich history dates back to the 17th century. I have fond memories of visiting the Gravenstein apple harvest in Sebastopol during my childhood, where we would wander through the orchards and bring home a crate filled with apples.

Sadly, "Big Apple" or "Big Wine" began phasing out native apples in favor of apples that were more cost-effective, easier to ship, and, of course, grapes for the wine industry. 

The Mystery of the Apple Caper 

I was told that they didn't have as many apples as they usually do. Apparently, all the stored apples were stolen! They had to get apples from neighboring Manton. 

Sounds like an inside job! 

Camden House is so vulnerable - it sits all alone off the side of Hwy 299. 

Just before they cut into it - giving everybody their fair share...It was yummy. 

Then we saw the old Camden House - 

What the heck? 

The upper windows of the house were completely boarded up, which was unexpected because when we last visited a few months ago, the windows were not covered. We were looking forward to taking a tour of the house.

It looks like they have totally abandoned the house. 

Here, you can see the upper windows 

are not boarded up.

APPARENTLY 

There are bats inside this historic house

 that is 172 years old. 

I was informed that these bats are an endangered species.

So I asked what they planned to do—were they going to sacrifice a 172-year-old historic home to save the bats?

I have a deep love for all of God's creatures, including bats. There is a humane way to remove the bats from the house safely without harming them. Our ancestors knew the benefits of having bats. So now, this situation has created a significant mess inside the beautiful home, which is quite distressing. After seeking information from various officials there who seemed reluctant to share with me - (what's that about?) I finally was told that due to the presence of these endangered bats, this will now require additional taxpayer funding to safely remove the bats according to environmental guidelines - then carry out a complete renovation of the Camden House, which is estimated to cost millions of taxpayer dollars - due to the bat infestation. Seems it would have been a lot cheaper just to remove them in the first place. 

Speaking of bats - 

The other day, my husband made an interesting discovery: he found a baby bat nestled inside the folds of our patio umbrella. Although he startled it, the tiny creature remained perfectly still. We decided to bring our dog Laydee inside, and once we did, the bat took flight and disappeared. We caught sight of it again at dusk last night, so we've decided to purchase a bat house in hopes that they will choose to make our yard their permanent residence. Bats are incredibly effective at controlling pests, and we also find them quite adorable.

Has anyone ever read Stella Luna to your children?

Walked over here to sit and relax for awhile. 

During moments of tranquility and stillness, the butterflies emerge. We sat among them and enjoyed watching then flutter about.  However, amidst this serene setting, a stealthy lizard made it's presence known as well.  First time I observed a lizard deftly extending its tongue to seize a delicate butterfly, consuming it with swift  efficiency.  

Poor butterfly.

In this area there was quite a sprinkling of pyrite or fool's gold scattered

 all around; in the sand, on the rocks. 

Happier times. 

2011 was probably one of the last years before the Carr fire when they opened it up for the community to enjoy.—You could tour the house and walk through the 150+ year-old apple and pear orchards. 

Now its gone to the bats!

Until next time -

Debby