Books on the Shelves of My Life and an Adventure Out West

Stacey and I took a last minute trip out west to visit our son Daniel and his wife Raven and granddaughter Thistle. We left on Thursday and got back today. That's why this Journal is late. I'll tell you about our trip later on.

I wrote last week about the impact a book that I found on the shelves of our house on Bridge Street had on my life. That exact book, Audubon's Field Guide to the Birds of North America, is gone, a victim of my childish neglect long ago. But after writing about that, I started to think about those bookshelves and the other books they contained.

We lived on the second floor of the house at 431 Bridge Street in New Cumberland, Pennsylvania. My father's chiropractic office was on the first floor. Grandma and Grandad Rathfon and cousin Rick lived on the third floor. Our living room on the second floor, we referred to as the front room, had a couch, our television set, a record player, several chairs, a coffee table, end tables with lamps, at one time a large aquarium, and bookshelves. One whole wall, floor to ceiling, was a bookcase. My father loved to read and he filled those shelves with books. His favorite reading chair, with its ottoman, sat directly in front of the bookcase and anytime you found him at home and awake, that was probably where you would find him reading, and often not awake. I used to take books down from those shelves and look through them long before I could read any of them. In my mind, I can still envision where some of them sat on those shelves.

We moved from Bridge Street in 1968 when I was ten and those books went with us. There wasn't a bookcase in our new house in Tallmadge, Ohio, so my father put up shelves in the basement and that's where the books were for the three years we lived there. Those shelves were portable and they, along with the books, went with us when we moved to Ravenna, Ohio, then to Naperville, Illinois, and then to Sylmar, California. In Sylmar, my parents added a big family room to the back of the house and put up those shelves. Later they had a bookcase built in that room and the books lived there. When they left that house, they gave away their books and many of them came to live with me. I still have them. They sit on the shelves we've built in this house and they will stay here for as long as I live.

I've collected many books of my own over the years, but what are the books that have accompanied me from my earliest childhood to this point in my life? I did a quick inventory. There are history books mostly dealing with World War I and II, the Britannica Great Books set in 54 volumes from Homer to Freud, Collier's Encyclopedia, 1958 edition in 19 volumes, a set of books from The Classics Club (there are 47 volumes, but I only have 17), The Book of Life Bible stories in 8 volumes, a set of Collier's Greatest Short Stories (there are 8 volumes, but I only have 6), Best Loved Books for Young Readers in 12 volumes, Great Books for Children in 12 volumes, My Book House in 12 volumes, and about 40 religious books including The Comprehensive History of the Church in 7 volumes, Joseph F. Smith's Doctrines of Salvation in 3 volumes, Cleon Skousen's three "Thousand Year" books, and many others. Altogether, there are about 200 books from my father's library in my library. And they have had a profound influence on me.

My Classics Club set.

My Britannica Great Books set.

My History of the Church set.

Some of my father's religious books.

As a very young child, I used to look through a two volume pictorial history of World War II. I was fascinated by them and from them began my love and lifelong study of history. The books of children's literature, ranging from nursery rhymes to classics like Treasure Island and Robin Hood, formed my early love of reading with all its adventures. Later, I was introduced to more sophisticated literature through short stories by Tolstoy, Poe, Gogol, and others. And in my teenage years, I devoured those books on religion. From them I formed part of the foundation of my testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. And growing up in a house of books, I developed a love of books, a passion for owning and holding them and reading them, that is evident in nearly every room of this house.

In looking more closely at my father's books, I realized for the first time that he must have belonged to several book clubs back in the day. Most of the sets of books are from clubs that sent a book a month. From their publication dates and the incompleteness of some of the sets, it looks like he began his subscriptions just after he got married in 1953 and ended them soon after I was born in 1958. As I grow older, I'm beginning to see more clearly things that I have in common with my father. My jaw clicks like his did. I now sing like he did. I get told more and more that I look like him, but I attribute that mostly to a general resemblance augmented by gray hair and a beard. My father and I shared a passion for reading. But here was a new parallel between us. In my early twenties and on through the first years of my marriage, I also belonged to several book clubs. I received a book a month from, maybe at the height of my passion, five or six different clubs. Returning to school and a growing family put an end to those subscriptions, but the books I collected during that time are among the most cherished in my library. And so are my father's books.

The beginning of the week was glorious -- such weather as we rarely have in late October in Gold. Monday and Tuesday the temperature rose into the 70s. It was sunny and breezy. It was fabulous.  I spent the day Monday working in the yard. There isn't a lot to do now, but somehow I manage to find things to occupy my time. It's mostly extra tidying, a bit of trimming, a little brush burning. I helped Kurt out in the big garden get the last of the long beds tilled. I mowed leaves. It felt good to be out in the sunshine in short sleeves.

Tuesday morning, I began phase two of our vinegar production. Phase one, the yeast fermentation, was done. The cider had ceased to bubble. I added vinegar mother saved from the last time we made vinegar. Now those bacteria will get to work converting the alcohol to acetic acid. It might take as long as six months before it's finished. In the meantime, we moved the two vats from the downstairs bathtub to the floor under the shelves in the pantry where they will be out of the way.

The jar of vinegar mother I used.

On Tuesday, my main task was to dig up dahlias. We'd had enough frosts and freezes to brown them to a crisp. Miriam and I went out in the late morning with pruner and fork and trimmed off the tops and dug them up. We didn't dig up all of them. Earlier in the fall, when they were still in full bloom, we selected the ones we were going to keep. We had too many of them and many of them were the same. We chose fourteen of them. We set the tubers to dry out for a day. The rest of the plants we left in the ground. If they survive the winter, which is unlikely, they can grow next year. That might seem a bit heartless, but that's how gardening is sometimes.

Dahlia tubers drying for storage.

The township came by with their leaf blower again that afternoon and once again blew all the leaves from the road onto my front lawn. This time I took permanent measures. I raked all the leaves back onto the bank that runs along the edge of the road and my lawn and I burned them. I actually to do that every year with the last of the leaves. This is the first time I've done it in an act of retaliation to the township. And they're not only leaves from my trees, but all the trees on the other side of the road too. So I spent an hour tending to burning leaves, something I love to do. The smell of leaf smoke is intensely nostalgic. It conjures up hazy memories of autumn twilights when smoke hung over my childhood neighborhoods. It brings up memories of Japan in the autumns of 1978 and '79 when they burned the stubble in the rice fields near Takatsuki and Kawanishi. And now it is the smell of a quarter of a century of autumns in this place, each year adding to the other, floating like incense through my memories.

Autumn Leaves by John Everett Millais

Later toward evening, we put up our outdoor Christmas lights. Hannah did the second story lights and Miriam did the first story. I supervised. I know it's a little early, but why wait until a colder day when you can do it on a 75 degree day in October? We won't turn them on until the day after Thanksgiving, but it's nice to know the job is already done.

On Wednesday the weather started to cool down to more normal autumn temperatures. It was still sunny and pleasant. I spent as much time as I could outdoors. I finished with the dahlias that afternoon. I cleaned them up a bit and put the roots in bins and boxes and Stacey helped me load them into the cellar for their winter sleep.

These days when I run out of things to do outdoors and when it gets dark, I love to sit and watch Gardener's World. I watch it in the early spring before things get underway in the garden, but I stop as things get busy. I stockpile the episodes and wait until the growing year has ended and then I watch them during the winter to satisfy my need to do something, anything garden related. Monty Don is an inspiration to me. 

I had last minute things to do on Thursday morning. I picked up my new glasses. (I wonder how long it will take to get used to bifocals.) I bought a load of hog feed. I did the chores. At noon Stacey came home to get me and we embarked on our weekend adventure. As usual, I was and always will be a reluctant traveler. It's not that I don't like being other places, it's getting there that irks me and makes me nervous and irritable. I dislike airports and airplanes and all the people jammed in those places. But I endured it all for the sake of seeing family.

We spent the rest of that day traveling. We drove to Buffalo and flew from there to Phoenix. Stacey's sister Roxann met us there and we sat in the terminal and visited. Roxann brought us dinner. She showed us family videos she's been working on. We had a nice, but brief visit. Then Stacey and I flew on to Spokane. By the time we got there it was midnight Pacific Coast Time, 3:00 A.M. East Coast Time. My sister Nancy and her husband Bob picked us up at the airport and took us to their home in Deer Park. We were so tired, we just went straight to bed.

On Friday morning, I woke up at my usual 5:30 East Coast time, which was 2:30 Pacific Time. I'd only slept two and a half hours. I was travel tired and had no trouble going back to sleep. The time difference was a struggle during our whole trip. When I woke again, at a decent time this time, we embarked on a great day. We spent the morning with Bob and Nancy, had breakfast, explored their house and property.

A sunrise at Bob and Nancy's house.

They have a very nice home on ten acres in a rural area just outside Deer Park. We walked around the yard and talked garden talk. We planted garlic. Later, Stacey and I drove down to Spokane to our son Daniel's home and we spent the rest of the day there. Daniel and Raven live in a small house with their daughter, our eighteen month old granddaughter, Thistle. Although we'd facetimed her many times, this was the first time Stacey and I met Thistle in person. She warmed to Stacey right away, but was wary of me. That's typical. We spent a happy afternoon visiting. At dinnertime, Bob and Nancy joined us. After dinner and more visiting, we went back to Deer Park and to bed.

Stacey and Thistle.

Saturday, the big event was Pumpkin Lane in Deer Park, a sort of fall/Halloween festival. The city of Deer Park closed off a section of Main Street and there were all sorts of businesses and organizations set up along the street handing out candy. There was a huge crowd of people, thousands, most of them in costumes, walking up and down the street. We met up with Daniel, Raven, and Thistle there. Thistle was dressed as a baby lion and was adorable. A friend of Daniel and Raven's was there with her little girl. And we got to meet Raven's parents, Patrick and Camber Farneman, and her grandmother, Leann. We walked together up one side of the street and down the other. Raven's mother, Camber, and her grandmother, Leann, took Thistle on a hayride. Then we all went back to Bob and Nancy's house for dinner. Bob cooked hamburgers on the grill. The Farnemans brought hamburger buns. Daniel and Raven brought macaroni and cheese. Nancy made a berry cobbler for dessert. We had a great feast together and it was great to sit and talk and get to know Raven's family. After dinner we took pictures. And then we said good-bye. The next day, Sunday, was Daniel and Raven's fifth anniversary and they had plans for the day, so this was good-bye to them and to Thistle.

Pumpkin Lane celebration in Deer Park.

Me and Thistle.

Daniel, Raven, and Thistle with Raven's parents and grandmother.

Four generations.

On Sunday we had a leisurely morning. Bob and Nancy's ward didn't meet until noon, so we took it easy all morning. Church was great. It was their Primary children's program. It was delightful watching the children sing and say their parts. Here in the Wellsville Branch, we don't have any children now and it's been so long that the last time we had a Primary in our branch program was when Josiah was a child. So we really enjoyed this program. After church we spent the rest of day visiting with Bob and Nancy. We had lunch. Stacey and Bob worked on his family history. Nancy and I chatted. We looked at books on her shelves and determined which of them were also my father's books. It was a nice day.

With Bob and Nancy.

Monday was another travel day. Nancy drove us to the Spokane airport and we said good-bye. Then Stacey and I spent the rest of that day and on to the wee hours of this morning either in airports or in the air. We flew from Spokane to Denver, then from Denver to Chicago, and then from Chicago to Buffalo. We arrived home at 3:30 this morning.

Sunrise out in the big garden this morning.

We couldn't sleep in. Stacey had to go to work. I had a doctor's appointment. When I got home from that, I did the morning chores and then took a walk around the property. Most everything is ready for the winter. I only have one more garden task to do. The spring bulbs I ordered finally arrived while I was gone. Later this morning, after it has warmed up a little, I will plant them -- tulips, daffodils, and hyacinths. And then the garden can go to sleep. And I will take a long nap.