Thanksgiving day 2010

Today is Thanksgiving. It is a beautiful 27 degree day with little or no wind, and not a cloud in the sky. It is a day like this that calls to my connection to the earth.

I took the dogs out into the National Forest, 4 wheeling in for about two miles, parked the truck and we went on a walk about through the surrounding woods. They were crazy with the glee that only a puppy can show. They love the woods, and get to go there at least 3 days a week, sometimes 4. Karen stayed home to cook, but tomorrow and the weekend are supposed to be in the forties. At 9000 ft, that's a warm day. So, we will be in the woods probably every day for the next few days.



I can't figure out this North Korean offensive action with the shelling of that island two or three days ago. Are they provoking, thinking it might in some way help their economy? I don't get it. With the treaties that have been established with South Korea and the United States, it would surely put us at war again. Quite the mess huh? Onward and upward!



Haley, Hannah and Tink (two goldens and a poodle) are healthy and happy they're all sleeping after their little run.



Betty is doing well. I think this oxygen is helping her. She loves her little dog Tink and takes good care of her.



Since this is kind of a "diary" type entry maybe I should bring you up to speed. I have a 1993 F-150 pickup that I haven't washed but twice in the past 3 years or so. We rely upon a well up here, no city water or sewerage so we maintain a septic tank. Up until this year this was a dead area to cell phones due to our steep canyons and high mountain valleys. This, is NIRVANA.



I know that those who live in the great population centers like New York or Los Angeles where your neighbor is less than 8 feet from your window may not be able to relate. Maybe your view is just bricks. Does a baby from 4 floors up keep you awake? Do you sleep through the sound of a siren?



Almost like different planets, isn't it?



Robin is doing so good with MoJo (Robin is the young girl next door, and MoJo is a beautiful 26 yr old Bay gelding. For the past three months she has been feeding him, cleaning his pen, treating his hooves and giveing all kinds of special care to him. It is a beautiful relationship. MoJo is so very gentle and forgiving. He is a great riding horse and bonds with humans nicely. Hooking up Robin with the horses owner (at the owners request), was a life changing experience for her. She continues to grow exponencially. She is learning patience, difficult for a 14 yr old.



My life is rich with experiences that may seem small. My compassion is great, at times to the point of sadness. Happy Thanksgiving to all, and may the Universe bring you happiness.

A History for my Children

I was born on the 18th of February 1949, in Wentworth Douglas Hospital, Dover, Strafford County, New Hampshire. Laurice Gilbert Clark, (later to be discovered as Laurice G. Edgerly) and Eloise Mae Smith were to be my father and mother. Life is just a blip until my first memory and thoughts. It happened in a flash, my eyes were seeing now.

I was sitting in a walker. One of those springy things, a seat of canvass with four spidery legs and clear, hard plastic wheels. I could see the wall of a house, the studs and framing. Three people were nailing, what I now know to be tarpaper, to the outside of the house.

This was to be my home. A tar paper house with over-lapping roof shingles covering the whole house. They called them "tar paper shacks" back then. It was a way of describing one's station in life. "Laurice lives in a tarpaper shack out on Mast Road ya know?" is how it would have been conveyed. All the hidden messages were passed so cunningly in the New England vernacular.

The house was probably 20'X20' square, with a chimney in the center. On one side was a wood stove for cooking. Those big black ones with the Iron Spring lifters, and heavy plates over the holes. My father later converted it to fuel oil, burning wicks. On the other side of the Chimney was a "Ben Franklin", pot bellied stove. It would get to roaring so hard that the cracks in the metal would glow bright orange. I remember having all of three beds, one dresser, one sofa, one chair, a 3'X3' kitchen table with three squeaking, broken wood chairs, repaired with baling wire, around it, and one stool. That was the extent of our furniture and belongings.

There was a hand pump at the wooden sink, and beside it a mason jar filled with water from the last user to "prime" the water pump that went to our well. In the beginning there were oil lamps in every room with high glass chimneys. Winter days in New England are dark when there is no electricity.

A "thunder jug", or porcelain potty sat in one of the corners of the little house. It was white, and used as an indoor bathroom in the middle of cold winter nights. It became my job to empty it in the morning. I would drag it to the outhouse and hopefully do it without spilling any. Our outhouse was a hole in the ground at the end of the barn. What is now overgrown deciduous trees, was once large fields growing corn and other vegetables, along with an apple orchard. "The Woods" sat back about a football field's length from the back of the house. Our visitors were the vegetable truck that came by about twice a week and the ice truck that delivered large blocks to go into the top of our ice box. We had our own chickens and traded eggs for milk from the farmer next door. Life was simple, we had simple things.

My first school was Woodman Park, and my first teacher, Mrs. Garrish. . and Mrs. Hatch, an elderly mean woman who always scowled at us kids was my second grade teacher. Everyone was afraid of her. She yelled, alot. I remember that we sat at attention, and our desks had to be right on the lines of the floor boards. If it was off an inch, we were in trouble. In the third grade, at Pierce Street School, Mrs. Hoar looked just like George Washington's picture on the wall. She was very nice. Next came Sawyer Elementary, Horne Street Middle School and then, Dover High School. I wish I could say I was a good student but I can't. With little food in my stomach and an emotionally cold home, school was just something I had to do.

Nine days after graduation from high school I was at Ft Dix, New Jersey in Basic training. I was in the Army at the height of the Viet Nam war. I remember my mindset. I was not afraid, but excited and volunteered for Viet Nam. So, after basic training and advanced individual training I was off and running to Southeast Asia.

This, unfinished post was left by my wonderful husband. I, Karen DeEtte Clark, take the opportunity to publish one of his final works for his children and the world to see, enjoy, and through its words further understand him and his many idiosyncrasies. He will always be loved by those who knew him and missed by his family.