Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Slugfest 2010

As in banana slugs. Ick. I still do not like them. At all.

But I have learned to accept that slugs and 'life on the Umpqua' go hand in hand. So I am willing to endure a weekend of constantly looking where I step for fear of landing on quite possibly the most DISGUSTING species known to man because everything else about Umpqua is, well, wonderful. The food, the family, the fun times on the river, in the river, near the river...you get the point. It has always been one of my favorite places to go, in part, because it's tradition. And since having kids, tradition has become a big deal to me. Not sure why but maybe a little because I come from a family that doesn't have a lot of true traditions, as least not ones that have been able to withstand the test of time as we've gotten older, moved away, gotten jobs, gotten married, had babies, etc...Except Umpqua. Umpqua has always been our tradition. I can't remember a summer that I haven't spent at least a day at the 'cabin'. (Admittedly, my memory of the years post-wedding and pre-kids is a bit foggy, but I'm pretty sure that Umpqua is tucked in there somewhere!)

Today a house sits on the property at Umpqua, but when I was younger there was no house but instead an old (really OLD!) cabin. I wish I had a picture of it to share (truly it was a sight to behold), but at least I have so many memories of it in my head. Good memories. Thinking about the old cabin makes me think of and remember my grandma...when she was still healthy and full of life. She was such a great woman. No matter how many people were staying at Umpqua at any given time (imagine a super classy (or not...ha! ha!) tent city), she always made us grandkids feel like we were the most important thing, like she had all the time in the world for us even though there was a ton of other cooking, cleaning, and entertaining to do. I remember her taking me down to the 'swimming hole' on hot summer afternoons, always sporting one of her swim caps. She was such an elegant swimmer, even in the river with her super graceful sidestroke. I remember sitting at the old card table in the middle of the cabin taking saltine crackers out of a coffee can and putting them onto a cookie sheet so that Grandma could put them in the oven to "crisp 'em up." (Ever thrifty she was! Nothing went to waste, not even stale saltine crackers!) There were also countless batches of cookie dough made together at that card table. And games. My grandma always had time to play a round of Skip-Bo at the table or in my grandparents' trailer that also sat on the property. Oh how I loved to spend a night in the trailer! Sometimes with my brother, sometimes with another cousin or my Aunt Paula, but sometimes I got my grandparents all to myself. Aw, those were good, good times.

Fast forward to today. There is no more 'cabin'. My grandma's illness necessitated the need for a few more modern amenities if she was going to live out her days at the place she loved so much. So a manufactured house was moved on sight. Definitely not a dream home by ANY stretch of the imagination, but modernization does have its advantages. Toilets! Showers! And now we have this beautiful, huge deck that looks out over the river. We spend hours on that deck talking, laughing, eating, and just gazing out at the river. This past weekend my cousin and I were watching my kids and my mom down below at the river. She commented that it was just like watching my grandma with me when I was little. And it was. I'm so happy and thankful that my mom is making the same kinds of memories for my kids that I have. She makes them feel like the most important people there and always has time for them. She'll spend hours at a time down at the river wading thru the water, pulling Molly around in her little boat, looking for river "treasures", etc...My kids are so lucky. Thank you, Mom.

But that brings me to the sad part of this story. Unfortunately the decision makers in the family have decided that it's time to sell the property. Sob! Various reasons. My 95 year-old grandpa no longer/can't really live there at this point. He may well live 'til he's 105, but presumably those years will be spent where he is now, in California. So. Sigh. No one in the family is there enough out of each year to take care of the place. It is, a little bit, falling to pieces, but at this point I can't even imagine not going there. When I think about it too much, the "ugly cry" comes out. There's too much history, too many good times tied to that place. And while I know that some of you will be quick to assure me that this will just be an opportunity to start new traditions and make new memories, I don't want to hear it. Blah. At least not yet. At this point all I can think about is the fact that I'm pretty sure that there is no other place in this world quite as perfect as Umpqua. You know I don't love change. So, for now, all I can do is pray that the place doesn't sell anytime soon and that this past weekend (in the words of my Uncle Steve) wasn't "our last hoorah." Sigh.

On that note, here are snaps of some more happy memories to add to the vault:


See that big rock in the center of the picture? For some unknown reason, that has always been my favorite rock. I've spent many an hour playing on that same rock year after year after year after...


You can barely see our house up near the top above the rocks...


...and this is how we get down to the rocks.


Ready to launch for a bit of a first fishing expedition...


...and they're off!


...searching for THE spot.


Grayson's first fish! Ever! (Sorry you can't really see it. But it is there!)


Molly with Cousin Tom...


...reeling in her first fish, too!


Dave had the magic touch, too.


Grandma Marilyn down on the rocks with Molly in her boat.


Swimming at the 'swimming hole'...






More fishing...




...the biggest catch of the day!








Beautiful.

2 comments:

Allison said...

Well, you know that I will not be assuring you that "new" traditions will make it all better! This made me tear up--I sure love traditions, and your mom out there as the next generation of grandma really got me. We can always hope that it never sells. (Not really. Maybe a little.)

Unknown said...

ditto. completely.