Montpelier, Idaho--Round Three

Oddly enough we have lived in Montpelier this time around the LONGEST I have lived anywhere, but because this volume of my story has been written saving my teaching, travels, and China days for another book, THIS chapter will be relatively short! Hopefully, when I write my next Twenty or even Thirty years it will start off right here--Christmas 2018. That volume will at least contain Morocco! And whatever we do after that.

We moved to Montpelier during the Christmas holiday and stored all of our things in the living room of this house. Then we spent a month at Larry and Sheryl Bomsta's up the road from us. Here's a bit of a "farm report" describing what followed:

Many of you have written with inquiries about our farm. In the interest of saving time, I'm sending out a "report". Almost ten months ago Jerry and I signed papers on an 8 acre farm about four miles south of where I teach school in Montpelier, Idaho. One would think our combined intelligence would have stopped us, but nevertheless we went willy nilly forward! My worst case scenario was that the remodeling (kitchen, family room, master suite, library, powder room) efforts would be completed by Halloween, and now my best case scenario is perhaps the 4th of July!!! Finding workmen has taken effort, and the ones we've found have had a decided Green Acres/Petticoat Junction flair! Our first carpenter fizzled out once hunting season opened. When he Would show up, we followed him around admiringly like intoxicated puppies just Pleased that he was here! He made some ghastly errors in judgment for which we have had to pay, but who can expect a guy to keep his mind on work when the hills are alive with elk??

At Christmas (during a blizzard) we made the move over from Paris where we'd been "camping" for 18 months, The outlook on daily living here has been grim. We're sleeping in the old part of the 1924 farmhouse, and because we're also storing everything in the house we only have a narrow walkway. Nowhere really to sit except the bed. We've been eating in our bathroom. Eating isn't exactly a correct term either because we haven't had a stove or refrigerator for 4 months. We've pieced, as my mother would say. Meanwhile the winter has raged outside and then petered out into spring and vast mountains of mud and construction debris! Giant piles of old cupboards, sheetrock scraps, nails, old wallpaper, lath and plaster, all mixed in with mud! Once the snow melted, the sewage system ceased working and we had a real down-and-dirty week of absolutely no water--which meant, of course, running a quarter mile down to the neighbors' to use the bathroom, showering (I used two buckets and Jerry went down the road to the neighbors' house), and brushing our teeth out on the lawn under the moonlight (which was actually the highlight of the week! It's pitch black out here. No streetlights for several miles). We went the entire month of February with absolutely no one (except the electrician who has showed up nearly every day for nearly nine months--more on him later) appearing to do anything. Now at long last we are ready to paint. The painter we were recommended is an alcoholic--great painter but he doesn't want anyone around, AND he wants to be paid up front. Huh??? And he'll do WHAT with the money?? Meanwhile Jerry has become Mr. Green Jeans! I can barely pry him off the tractor! Who'd have ever thunk that????!!! He moves stuff and digs and is really quite content. Cathartic I guess. Everyone who visits us walks away murmuring "Hail Mary's" under their breath! I'm not sure if they're praying in our behalf or giving thanks that they're not in our boots! If there were a "White Trash Report" column in the local paper, they'd want us to write it.

As I mentioned we've had quite a cast of characters show up for work here. Lots of them were students of mine that I couldn't pound English into no matter how hard I tried. I remember one of them handed me back the copy of Fahrenheit 451 I'd given him to read and said, "I'd rather not." So now he's hammering out in our addition and I'm still teaching English! Art the plumber/handyman is a character straight out of Red Duke and really worth the trip here to experience. But without a doubt, the "star" of the show has been Rodney the electrician. I go way back with him to my teen years as the babysitter of his five kids. Rodney had a brush with death a while ago. The good news is that he has incredible zest for living now, but the bad news is his memory was impaired and I think he doesn't honestly know what he's done around here! We've not received his bill yet because he's undergoing colonic treatments over in Preston which are supposedly going to improve his memory!!!! So there you go. No bill because of a big intestinal CLOG! I guess he and We are hoping it will all come "out in the end!" In the meantime we get a daily update on his progress on the cleansing!! Mugsy thinks Rodney is one of the family. I only hope we're paying by the job and not the hour.

That's about it. Writing about this has made me feel a little better. If you have suggestions or comments send them along. We here at the Funny Farm are looking towards the green grasses of summer. Maybe a few chickens will ease the winter memories. Perhaps the llamas everyone wants to give us will salve our weary hearts. So if you come to visit and you find us sitting in the bathroom, respectively on the tub and john, chowing down some canned spaghetti RIGHT OUT OF THE CAN, try to be gentle. We're fragile here at Happy Acres. Love, Marilyn

And later...

Paco and I have decided to come out. "Our names are Madhadder and Paco, and we own a farm." It all started so innocently--a 1924 farmhome in need of a caretaker and 8 acres that cried, "FARM ME, SEYMOUR!" At first we were just mowing and fighting dandelions. Then we got into the hard stuff--gardening, outbuilding repair, landscaping, and rhubarb. Before we knew it, we were asparagus users, llama owners, and even started dipping garlic. From there it was a short freefall into raspberries and hostas. A tractor soon followed, and when our resistance was completely down--a 4-wheeler. I kept thinking that a rope swing would keep Paco from succumbing to the habit, but no, once his hands were dirtied by the taint of his own land, he sunk into the mire. Our parole officer has said that chickens would be the worst possible therapy, but the admonition may have fallen on deaf ears. We see no out. The addition of 11 alpacas seemed to designate the inevitable Point of No Return. All that really remains to be done is to add our warning for the collective good of society. Please know that we're seeking help. And for the love of all that we hold dear, be ever vigilant in watching your own children for tell-tale signs...

--The Montpelier, Idaho--Round Three years have been well described on my blog at www.madhadder.blogspotcom In fact, I began the blog right after we settled in here. It contains family news, travels far and wide, reunions, our China experience, and other musings. Frankly, I'm at the end of this personal story, and I've run out of steam. But I WILL provide some highlights in case this family history is being read by a campfire--technology as we once knew it gone--life returned to its primitive state--law of the jungle restored.

All kids are married
An even dozen grandkids have been born
Mugsy lived a long happy farm dog life and is buried in the English garden
Jerry lost his job during the 2008 recession
Jerry tried his hand at the U.S. Census bureau and Teach For America
Marilyn completed 25 years of public education and retired quite quietly
Visitors have come and gone--See guestbook
Trees have blown over and one shed roof blew off into the neighbor's field
Travels to Europe, around Asia, and here and there
Skiing in the winter
Still prefer to be in the Tetons
Aunt Norma died leaving a huge pit of a hole
We taught in China for three years
Society and much of the country have gone to pot
Jerry still smokes and barbecues
President Nelson sends a mission call to Morocco!
Holidays are celebrated, good nights are said, prayers go up, kids move around, weeds need to be weeded, and all is well.