Posts Tagged With: Bear Valley

APPRECIATE THE SNOW

Its April 7th, its not supposed to snow!

Well, that is, snow isn’t all that likely this late in April. I’ve been here 33 years and remember a snowfall on April 1st. That was unusual. There may have been another April snow. Now this. No one knows what the weather will do, and as much as we complain about the white stuff interrupting our lives, nature has a different plan.
It pays to remember that we have suffered ten years of drought. The reservoirs are filling up. The snow pack in Bear Valley ski area is expected to last through July.  And they need the business, as do the small towns like  Murphys that service skiers.
My daffodils are obliterated; Its back to hauling in wood, but, I gotta say to myself. Quitcherbellyachin. Appreciate the snow. Its cozy inside and my projects get more attention and less distraction. And, that is something to appreciate.

Current project?  Family pictures, this time into scrapbooks.  There have been days I’ve questioned the wisdom of owning a camera. Well, not really. A message to all. Keep up your pictures with dates, names and place as you go. Don’t wait until things get lost and dimmed in memory.

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ENJOYING MOTHER LODE ATTRACTIONS

Good friends, Jose and Norma Tapia,  and my youngest daughter, Virginia, and her kids came up to the Mother Lode for a day to play. The weather was perfect, not hot, not cold, just coolish,  The kids played on the trampoline…

Owen, flying high.

Nearly three year old Abbie trying for that higher bounce.

Theo going for the extreme moves.

Anthony waits his shot at the ball in a game of driveway two-square. Whoever goes out steps aside for the next person in line. That way no one gets overly tired

Everyone wanted to take a walk and see where I heard the singing waters from a previous blog. The water is running, but without much thunder and  low enough to easily cross over the washes on rocks and branches. Its fun to almost get wet while throwing rocks into the culverts. The kids fed the neighbor horses and caught a frog,, which was promptly returned to its puddle.

Before dinner, the two youngest boys managed a wobbly, high structure with stacking blocks while we got the table ready. Before dessert, we caravaned  downtown Murphys to watch the Rail Jam, a new event sponsored by Bear Valley Ski Area,  and the Murphys Hotel.

Snow was brought in and piled from the second floor of the Murphys Hotel into an obstacle course for skiers and snowboarders. The amateur contestants were from eight years to fourteen years old. Down the two story ramp, over the first bridge,

a sharp right and down a slippery, round pipe,

and, a shoot to the finish over the “mail box”. Some of the older boys chose to finish on the edges of the blue barrier. Either way, a challenging, fun, competitive race with prizes.

Six year old Anthony confided, “I can do that,” as he watched the boarders. In the future, I’m sure he will. On this day, it was enough to play with hunks of dirty snow. But, dainty Abbie…
stuck close to dad and bravely ventured one leg over the rope barrier.

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THE WHITE STUFF IS HERE

Forgive me, for I have sinned.  I let the white stuff fall down on the Motor Home, and failed to get the chimney swept.
We  hunkered in with the heater blasting all day. I enjoy the snow as long as it melts away in a day or two.  Jim, however, was unfazed by the beauty of the white stuff. You be the judge.

It was a wet snow. The maple tree branches are strong enough not to bend. The plum tree still has its purple leaves. The branches were bent heavily over my deck table.

The fine needles of a heather plant turned snow into lace.

My Exchange student from Indonesia, in 1986, was dellighted that California had snow. Her father told her there would be no snow in California, so she was surprised to find out that some parts of the sunny state had snow.

Linda, on the left, enjoyed playing in the white stuff and enjoyed the dog sled races at Bear Valley.

But, real snow looks like this:

It was deep, every year in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. This picture was taken in the 1942. My father would warn us not to climb the snowdrifts and touch the electrical wires. The snow WAS that high.
Brrrr!  I’m grateful to be a Californian.

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