Getting Started

      Well folks ~ please bear with me ~ I am still working on figuring out how to blog. I originally just Googled and picked a site. It was a free trial. I was then contacted by someone that told me they had three blogs at a free site. Having different blogs for different subjects sounds much better to me ~ it also made me rethink how to approach what I was trying to do! 

     I have also decided that leaving a written record of my experiences would be a great thing for my children and grandchildren and it would
give me the practice I need to figure out how to get the spacing to behave. Now the next trick I have to pull out of my hat is how to put things in chronological order. As many of you know the aging process really messes with your ability to do just that. There are also childhood memories of Scotia and then again of the ranch ~ so it is a bit tricky to jump back and forth with those stories as well.

     The very earliest memory I have is of the old ranch house in Petrolia. The ranch was called The Sunset View Ranch and it sits on a ridge that overlooks the ocean at Cape Mendocino. I have attached a photo of it ( I was not able to enlarge it but will try again latter). I am told that I was two and half years old when they tore down the old house. It had become a fire hazard and there was a very close call when a chimney fire was put out by throwing cups of water up the chimney.

     In a conversation I had with my mother about the ranch house she told me I was to young to remember it. She said that what I thought were memories were most likely things that people told me about it. That is odd because I can see different rooms in my minds eye. I can remember where the dart board hung over the desk to the right of the door in the parlor. I can also remember that the bathroom was upstairs of all things. The view from the bathroom toilet looked out over the ocean. There was a large staircase with a landing at the top. On the landing there were old trunks and a railing where you could look down to the bottom floor.

     The kids always had great fun in a hiding spot that the adults had a very difficult time getting into. The old house was built up against the side of the mountain. There was a rock retaining wall around the uphill side of the house and we loved to hide between the house and the retaining wall. I also remember Guy ( what a great name for a guy eh?) who had built himself a homemade go-cart. Guy was the youngest son of the caretakers that ran the ranch. We were treated to a ride or two and that was something I will never forget.

    I was fascinated with the giant balls that were the newel posts on the porch railings and a room at the back of the house that they called the "museum". The museum was filled with old items of every description. The antique ladies side saddle was the main attraction for us at that age. There was also a giant antique coffee grinder that was really institutional size! It had been years since it was used for grinding coffee. We always tested it with dry dog food to see how it worked. Just outside the museum was a small tree with a triangle piece of iron hanging from it. This was the old dinner bell ~ it came equipped with a metal bar hanging from a rope and you would run the bar around the inside of the iron to make a very loud noise. I was very fortunate to inherit the dinner bell. I really
could have used it when my children were young.

     To this day the smell of eucalyptus trees transports me right back to the ranch. There was a giant old eucalyptus below the house ~ and a wonderful antique gate near it that had a fancy top and wire running through it. I believe the other reason I remember the gate ~ was a swing that was very nearby. Now I am not sure if the swing was hanging off the tree or if it had a frame of it's own but for some reason I believe it had a large timber frame.

     Across the road from the swing was a old tool shed. It is not so much the shed that held my interest but the old fox pens behind it. The fox were long gone by the time I was almost three ~ but my mother had a fox stole with the head on it and glass eyes. When they talked about the fox pens ~ I would immediately think of the stole that was buried in my mothers cedar chest. We always took great delight and squealed when we were allowed to touch it.

    I suppose this is where I should call it a night and I will most likely dream of that fox with the glass eyes. God Bless Cheryl