Saturday 31 October 2015

Halloween in a One Room School

    From Fall of 1973 to the Summer of 1977 I taught in a one room elementary school in an isolated lumber mill camp near Takla Lake, in the middle of British Columbia.  There were no roads into the place and Joan and I had to fly in and could only leave at the breaks for Christmas and Spring.  I had a little group of students (enrollment varied between 5-14) and one big section of the students was made up of a First Nations family that lived down beside Takla Lake.
    One of the things I enjoyed most about the job was introducing the Native kids to things that I had always considered fun when I was growing up.  Among those things was Halloween, which because of the isolation, was not on the Indian children’s radar.  Of course like most elementary schools, I exploited  Halloween, like most other holidays, by using it for art projects, activities like carving jack-o’-lanterns, and generally generating excitement.  
    As a result my students were really primed when Halloween day actually rolled around.  At 2:15, I dismissed the class from school, allowing them to get into their costumes, while Joan and I decorated the classroom for a Halloween party.  We draped the jack-o’-lanterns with sheets, brought out the snacks, and then darkened the room.  When 2:30 arrived we opened the door to the group of short scary characters who had gathered outside the school building and allowing them to rush inside.
    They bobbed for apples in a tub of icy water, ate popcorn, candy, and cake, and  played group games (musical chairs, and an old family favorite “Ring on a String”)  It was a big event for the kids, and when school was dismissed for the day, the classroom was littered with crumbs and popcorn, giving testament to the fun that had occurred.
    The kids had planned to Trick or Treat at the camp during the evening, so at 7:00 I borrowed one of the camp pickups (we had no vehicle of our own in camp) and I drove down to Takla Lake to pick up my Native students and bring them up to the camp to Trick or Treat.  When I got down to their house, they weren’t there-- they had been so excited about Trick or Treating that they came up to the camp on their own.
    Once back in the camp, Joan and I joined the Trick or Treaters and then we all gathered behind the school house for a bonfire and some fireworks that had been bought by one of the families.  It was a memorable event that happened out in the middle of nowhere in the vast wilderness of British Columbia.

You can view my photo-realistic paintings at:

Friday 30 October 2015

Internet Refrigerator Cartoon

    It is a gloomy wet day outside so I don’t have any photos to offer, and since Fridays are the day I have to send off cartoons to our two local newspapers, I thought I would just give you one too.

Take a look at my photo-realistic paintings:

Thursday 29 October 2015

Back on Jervis Road

    Joan, Skye, and I have been doing our walks on Jervis Road.  It is one of my favorite views in the Robson Valley, and I have taken probably over 100 photos of this scene, but the seasons and the lighting keeps changing so I keep taking photos.

My paintings:

Wednesday 28 October 2015

Birch Bark in Transition

    One of the most characteristic traits of a birch tree is its whitish colored bark.  Birches are pretty common here in the Interior of British Columbia, and when I started paying attention to what I was seeing out in the bush, I noticed that I never saw a young sapling with white bark.  I soon realized that the reason for that was that as a young tree, birches have dark reddish brown bark.  It is not until adolescence that the dark bark peels off and is replaced with the whitish bark.
    I noticed this birch growing on the dam of my pond in transition and thought it showed the process fairly well.  Its trunk is about 2.5 inches (6.35cm) in diameter.

View my paintings:

Tuesday 27 October 2015

Reflections on the Fraser

    The Fraser is the most important river in British Columbia.  It begins in the Robson Valley then meanders first NW up toward to Prince George, where it starts heading south, carving its way through the spectacular Fraser Canyon, then finally, emptying into the Pacific Ocean in Vancouver.  The other day when I was walking the dog, its surface was as smooth as glass, reflecting the sky and mountains of the Valley.

You can see my paintings at:

Monday 26 October 2015

Busy Beavers

    The other day Skye (our dog) and I went out for a walk.  I thought we would try the trail that ran along the Fraser River on the west side of the Fraser River Bridge near McBride.  As we started down the trail we were soon confronted with a blockade of numerous Cottonwood trees lying across the trail.  Beavers had fallen them.  I am always amazed when I see trees downed by the chewing of beavers.  It is quite a remarkable feat considering just how tough it is to fall a tree if you had to use something like a rock to chip away at it.
    There must have been 10 to 12 trees lying across the trail.  In the photo above you can see that someone cleared the trail of one tree previously, sawing up the tree in the foreground with a chainsaw, but since then the beavers had returned to take down several more.
    The fallen trees really didn’t prevent us from using the trail, we just walked around them, but it was an interesting discovery along the way.

Take a look at my photo-realistic paintings:

Sunday 25 October 2015

The Bluffs and Beaver Mountain

    Just east of McBride Hwy. 16 runs right beside a rocky outcrop that we have always called “The Bluffs”.  Here is a photo of the bluffs with Beaver Mountain in the background. You can see that the aspen that grow on the bluff have lost their leaves and that the conifers on the mountain have been powered with fresh snow.

My paintings are on my website:

Saturday 24 October 2015


    Amazingly, our tiny community has a playwright and a theatre troupe.  The playwright is Sharon Stearns and the troupe called the Robson Valley Theatre Collective.  They periodically write, produce and present drama for the area.  Last night I went to see the opening night of their play, “Farmalot.”  
    It is was a fun and rowdy mixture of “Camelot” and the modern genetically modified food industry, full of song, talking ravens, and comedy.  I am always impressed at the talent that is hidden away in our little valley.  Its always a treat when it comes out into the open. 
    There is a tremendous amount of work that goes into these productions that are only performed 4 times (one more tonight in McBride, and then two performances next weekend in Valemount),  Go see it, if you can still find a ticket.

See my paintings:

Friday 23 October 2015

Weather Moving Through

    Of course weather is always moving through, but it is especially noticeable in the Robson Valley during the transitional seasons of Autumn and Spring.  During the Fall, a lot of storms form out in the Pacific then move through BC.  Here is a photo of menacing dark clouds and flurries on a peak in the Cariboo Mountains.

You may view my paintings at:

Thursday 22 October 2015

Misty Morning

    Fog and mist was the predominant weather feature this morning as we walked around the pond.  As we get nights with temperatures colder than the ground and water temperatures, fog results.  It makes for some moody photos.  I particularly like the softness of the photo above that was created by the light fog.

To see my photo-realistic paintings, go to:

Wednesday 21 October 2015

Third World Air

    Living in the Robson Valley often makes me feel like we are in the Third World.  Like many Third World countries where extraction of natural resources is one of the main economic activities, the environment does not seem very high on the priority list.  
    Yesterday when we went for our walk, our valley was filling up with smoke.  I don’t know for sure where it was coming from, but usually this much smoke is the result of an area being logged.  Once the good wood was hauled away, the huge pile of remaining wood is designated as “scrap” and the easiest way to make the “scrap” wood go away is to put a match to it.  The “scrap” disappears into the air, and the rest of us get to breathe it.  

View my paintings at:

Tuesday 20 October 2015

The Election and an Elk

    I blogged yesterday about how nervous I was about Canada’s election, well I am breathing much easier today--The Harper Conservative Government has been replaced by a Liberal government.  Hopefully now I can once again become proud of my country and it will regain the respect that it lost over the last 10 years.
    Yesterday was also significant for me because I was the first time during the 38 years I have been living here that I saw an Elk (more properly a Wapiti) on our property.  For our first 15 years of living in the Robson Valley there were no elk, then slowly they immigrated in, much to the chagrin of farmers who suddenly saw their hay crops disappear.
    About 4 years ago I saw a herd walk through my neighbor’s property, but this was the first time I saw them on mine.  There were about 10 of them, who immediately took off when we appeared from walking around the pond.  Spotting wildlife has always been one of the charms of living in the bush.  

My paintings can be seen at:

Monday 19 October 2015

Fingers Crossed for Canada

    Today is election day in Canada, and I am as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.  Although I try to avoid politics in my blog, I am a person, with very strong political views.  Back in the early 1970’s I left the United States, the country where I was born, because of political reasons.  As a peace loving, humanitarian and environmentally oriented socialist, I just couldn’t see a very bright future for myself in the militaristic, gun-loving, bigoted, ultra-religious, and “money is everything” based culture of my birthplace.
    I have been very happy living my life in Canada, but the last 10 years have often made me ashamed and embarrassed toward my adopted country.  During those years Canada has been ruled by the Conservatives, led by a lackluster politician named Stephen Harper.  In his years in power, he has sought to dismantle and eliminate all those things that I have loved about Canada.
    Internationally, Canada used to provide Peacekeepers to troubled areas of the world.  Harper wasn’t interested in trying to create peace, he wanted to fight, and eagerly sought out conflicts where he could send Canadian troops and fighters.   He changed Canada’s humanitarian contributions so instead of going to places that dearly needed help, they went to places with Canadian mining interests.
    He ignored Canadian manufacturing, putting his whole economic thrust into extraction industries, especially Alberta’s tar sands (now re-branded as ‘oil sands’).  He gutted environmental laws, removed pollution restrictions on thousands of lakes and rivers, took species off of endangered lists, fired and muzzled scientists, pushed pipelines, all in an attempt to make “Big Oil” happy.  He had Canada sabotage international environmental conferences, resulting in Canada receiving prizes for the worst participant.
     During this election he purposely pulled out the race card, playing on people’s fear of Muslims, by banning the wearing of the niqab during citizenship ceremonies.  Harper imported political consultants from US Republicans and conservative advisors from Australia, in order to “wedge” and divide Canadians.  I don’t think he has ever done anything that was not part of a political agenda. 
    You might ask yourself, “If the people of Canada are so progressive in nature, why have they elected such a right-wing rat as a Prime Minister for the last 10 years?”  
    Sadly, the answer is that Canada has a really screwed up form or government.  Harper and his Conservatives have always received less than 40% of the vote.  Sixty percent of Canadians voted for left of center government, but unfortunately the left is divided by three different parties:  the Liberals, the NDP (socialists), and the Greens.  With those three dividing the votes on the left, the Conservatives got to rule.  The Canadian Governor General, the Queen’s representative, (another stupid bit of the Canadian government) decided Canada should be governed by a party representing less than 40% of the people, rather than a coalition of parties representing 60%.
    Anyway, (sorry for ranting), today is election day, and hopefully “ABC” (Anyone But Conservatives) will end up as the Canadian Government.  I would be happy with Liberal, NDP, or Green.  All have basically the same platform of returning Canada to those humanitarian values it has held before Harper tried to remake the country in the US image--I have my fingers crossed.

You can view my non-political paintings at:

Sunday 18 October 2015

My Carrot Crop

    For a week now I have been wanting to get out and spend time cleaning out my garden, but a really bad cold had me laying low.  Yesterday I finally felt well enough to get out there and one of the jobs I did was to dig out the carrots.  I was very happy with what I was pulling out of the ground.  The carrots were well-formed and huge.  (The longest carrot you see in the photo is 10 inches (25cm) long.)
    For many years I was disappointed with my carrots.   So many of them were deformed, with multiple bottoms and twisted shapes.  I knew I had to try something different and so this is what I tried.
    Where as I used to just till the carrot spot with my rototiller, then plant, I wondered if the carrots were having trouble dealing with the harder clay soil that lay beneath the 3-4 inch (7-10 cm) of loose recently tilled soil.  I started tilling the area for the carrots, raking all the loose soil I created by tilling out of the row, then tilling the lower area again, finishing off by raking all of the loose soil I had pulled out, back into the row.  This gave me a much deeper layer of loose soil for the carrots to grow in.  I think that has made a huge difference in the result.
    I also made myself be more ruthless in thinning the newly sprouted carrot plants--no more Mr. Nice Guy.  I thinned, making sure each remaining plant had lots of room to itself.
    Yesterday after I got the carrots out and washed them off, I selected one and chomped into it.  I am happy to report, it tasted delicious.
    I put the carrots into a 5 gallon (19 Liter) bucket and packed it with moist sand and placed the container in the crawlspace of the house where it will stay cool, but not freezing throughout the winter, and will be available to us whenever we need carrots.

If you haver nothing else to do, you might want to take a look at my photo-realistic paintings:

Saturday 17 October 2015

Home on the Range

    We have been taking walks in the evening out of Jeck Road, just east of McBride, BC.  Yesterday when we began our walk there was a big herd of cattle in the field beside the road.  When I got my camera out and looked through the viewer, the cattle and the lack of color on the slopes, giving the mountains a barren appearance, really gave me a sense that I was “out on the range”.  Usually when I look around, the mountains are covered with lush greenery and it feels like I am “in the mountains”, not out on the range.  

See my paintings:

Friday 16 October 2015

Autumn Geranium Leaf

    The photo shows the autumn coloration of what I believe is a Cranesbill Geranium.  These plants grow like stink and have become a bit of a problem since they crowd everything else out.  Every year I rip mountains of them out of our one flower garden, and still they return.  I found this one growing out in our field.
    While I generally have a dislike for this plant, in the autumn I am always won over by the oranges and reds of its leaves, which are a colorful treat.  I just wish they didn’t make such a pest of themselves during the summer.

You can view my photo-realistic paintings at:

Thursday 15 October 2015

Hard Frost

    Lupines are pretty tough plants and can take a bit of frost, but this morning when I walked around the pond the temperature was -3C (26F) and the lupines were looking like they had experience a fairly difficult night.

You can view my paintings at:

Tuesday 13 October 2015

Dark Clouds

    Here is one of my favorite Robson Valley scenes, this time with dark moody clouds.  Even though I have taken shots of these abandon buildings hundreds of times, every time I see it with different lighting and can’t resist taking more photos.

You can view my paintings at:

Monday 12 October 2015

Ornamental Cabbage

    Joan bought two ornamental cabbage plants this year.  While I have always found them really attractive, we have never had any around our house, fearing that the deer would find them too tasty to resist, but Joan threw caution to the wind and planted them in the flower bed right in front of our porch.  For some reason the deer didn’t eat them, and I have been enjoying their deep purple color all summer and especially now in the fall, when most of the other color in the environment is beginning to wane.


You can view my paintings at:

Sunday 11 October 2015

The Big Potato Dig

    Yesterday I joined in with about 30 other people who volunteered to dig potatoes at McBride’s Open Gate Community Garden.  The potatoes we dug then went on sale in the afternoon to raise money for the community garden.  Community work projects are always fun and working together we unearthed hundreds of pounds of nice-sized potatoes during the morning dig.
    Earlier in the week I had dug out the potatoes in my garden.  I ended up with a big wheelbarrow overflowing, but I couldn’t help but buy some more spuds from the community garden sale, because they looked so good and were of different varieties than what I grew.
    Having a lot of potatoes stored for the winter always makes me feel secure.

Take a look at my paintings:

Saturday 10 October 2015

Stellar's Jay

    Although Stellar’s Jay (BC’s Provincial Bird) is common throughout most of British Columbia, including the Robson Valley, I rarely see them.  About the only time I spot one at our place is in the fall,  when one hangs around for about a day.  It was on its annual visit the other day that I took this photo.
    They are are really a beautiful bird with its deep blue body coloring that gradually turns into a black head.  It has the typical raucous jay behavior, but despite its extroverted behavior, I always enjoy seeing them and always wish they would hang around our house a bit longer.

My photo-realistic paintings can be seen at:

Friday 9 October 2015

A Well-Stacked Plate

    People from outside of Canada might not be aware of it, but this weekend is our Thanksgiving holiday, so there will be a lot of food consumed.  Yesterday, Joan and I attended the annual “Harvest Dinner” put on by the McBride Library as a fund raiser.  There was a lot of tasty food to be consumed and that is where I took the photo you see.
    I feel I must make one thing clear--this was not my plate.  I admit to sometimes falling into the category of “gluttony”, but although I stuffed myself last night, I didn’t have this much stuff on my plate.  I spotted this plate, belonging to a young male, abandoned on the table beside us, when he left his seat to pick up some dessert.   He had done such a masterful job of stacking the food on the limited space of the plate that I couldn’t help but take a photo.
    I am happy to report that after the meal his plate was empty.  He didn’t waste anything.
    Happy Thanksgiving to my fellow Canadians and to you whenever a similar holiday occurs.

Take a look at my paintings:

Thursday 8 October 2015

Not a Penny

    People are always asking about the difference between Canada and the US.  I noticed one difference when I was recently down in the States--the penny.  Canada minted its last penny on May 4, 2012, not all that long ago, and it seemed like a drastic change at the time, but its surprising how quickly I adapted to it.   When I was in the states, suddenly I had to deal with pennies again, and it felt a bit strange after doing without for 3 and a half years.  
    You might wonder how we deal without the penny in Canada.  We either round up or round down.  If something costs 43 or 44 cents we pay .45, and if the cost is .41 or .42  we pay 40 cents.  Pennies were always a bit of a hassle, and it didn’t take much effort to live without them.
    I took this photo while I was down in the States.  My mom had a box full of pennies.  I see there are a couple of Canadian pennies in the mix.

To view my photo-realistic paintings:

Wednesday 7 October 2015

Autumn's Diminishing Colors

    Fall’s color show in the Robson Valley is going fast, but upon returning home to BC after my trip to Indiana, I was happy to discover there are still some nice color effects to be seen.  Here are a couple of photos.

My paintings can be seen at:

Tuesday 6 October 2015

Fifty Year Class Reunion


    A lot of water has gone under the bridge since I was in high school--50 years worth of water.  This last Saturday I attended my 50 Year Class Reunion, it was a very strange experience.  There were so many “strangers” walking around with name tags sporting names I recognized from my graduating class, but they all had unfamiliar faces and bodies.  I felt like going up to them and saying, “I knew a person in high school with the exact same name.”   But honestly, there were many there who were instantly recognizable.
    As you can see from the photos above, me in 1965, and me in 2015, time can do a number on a person’s appearance in 50 years.
    I confess that there were one or two people that seemed to know me, but I didn’t recognize at all, fortunately I was saved by their name tags, and was able to quickly restore my composure.  Given time to study their faces, I could usually re-construct the high school person they once were, but it was so bizarre.  Of course everyone (except those that still hung around together) was at the same disadvantage.
    I had attended a couple of other high school reunions and had been disappointed because my really close high school friends had not shown up.  This time, being the “Big 5-0”, a lot more people attended including some close friends.  They gave me an anchor point to return to when things got too strange while mingling amongst so many others I didn’t recognize.   People would mention a name of someone they had talked to and I would ask them to point them out because I couldn’t “see” them.  

    We had a big high school class, over 500 and it was sobering to hear that over 100 of my classmates had died in the intervening years, including several really close friends.    Since our class was so large, there were certainly many I didn’t know, but happily, I was able to re-acquaint myself with a lot of old acquaintances I hadn’t seen for decades.

I am blogging again at my website:

Sunday 4 October 2015

Sleeping with Ruby


      After my adventures with Ruby running off I the dark the other day, I figured that things would get back to a normal routine, but I was mistaken.  On Friday afternoon I was busy trying to fix up a mailbox for my mother, and it meant many walks over to my sister's house for material and paint.  I got tired of getting the key from its hiding place each time I had to get into Jane's house, so I just stuck ithe key into my pocket--a big mistake.
     A couple of hours later when I reached into my pocket to unlock Jane's door, I discovered to my dismay, it was no longer there.  I had somehow managed to lose it.  Jane was in Forida vacationing, I figured maybe there must be an extra key at Mom's house and so I grabbed all of the keys she had and walked back to my sister's to try them.  None of them worked.
     My next hope was that maybe my niece or nephew had a key to the house but they didn't.  There was no way I could get into the house.  The only bit of good fortune in this sad episode was that Jane's dog Ruby, who normally spends her days inside the house was outside; luckily I had chained her out there so she would get some sunshine. 
     After a few hours outside she was wanting to go back in, but there was no way of explaining to her that she couldn't.  When evening came I brought her into my mom's house.  I wondered where she would sleep and when bedtime came I found out--snuggling up next to me in my bed.  That was okay except that Ruby really snores. She snores really loudly.  I didn't sleep very well, but Ruby slept well. 
     Fortunately for me, the weather turned cold in Florida and my sister came home overnight with her key so when morning came, Ruby was able to return to her normal schedule, and her normal bed. 

Saturday 3 October 2015

One Less Thing in the Barn

     I come from a long list of "pack rats."  My grandfather had a barn full of old things he thought he might someday need, and my father also had a collection of junk in his barn, just in case it might be useful.  I carry on the family tradition with my own barnful of miscellaneous old items.
     It is always gratifying to come upon a circumstance where you can actually use something you have saved.  I'm sure my dad would be happy to know that I was able to make use of something from his collection. 
     When my mom's mailbox got shattered the other night by a truck that went off the road, I figured that I would have to buy a new mail box, but my mom who still has an incredibly sharp memory at the age of 94 said, "You should check in the barn. There might be one in there," so before going to the hardware store, I went into the cobwebby and rusty world of my father's barn. 
     There was a diverse cache of things out there in the barn, everything from scrap lumber to decaying lawn furniture, and amazing, I found an old mailbox, still on a post.  It had been a victim of a previous collision with an errant driver.  It was bashed in at the top, but still useable. I wiped off the cobwebs and dragged it over to my mom's house.
     I banged it back into its previous shape as best I could with a hammer, I did have to buy a new can of spray paint (I couldn't find a suitable color from my family's collection of used spray paint, although I did find an old can with just enough red paint to color the mailbox's flag.)  Being too cheap to buy letters for the address number, I drew out the numbers, on a piece of scrap paper and made a stencil. 
     I remembered seeing some black-capped cans of old spray paint at my sister's place.  I taped the stencil on the box then discovered that what I thought was black spray paint, was actually clear varnish, so I ended up using an old can of regular black paint, which I dobbed with an old paintbrush that I found.  My stencil didn't work very well, but the number is legible.
     I concede that the resulting mailbox is not the most beautiful one in the neighborhood, but given the history of mailboxes along our curve, it only has to survive a short time until the next careless driver blows it away.

Friday 2 October 2015

"Ruubeee, Ruubeee, Damn, Damn, Damn"


      The big accident I blogged about yesterday was not the only excitement I had Wednesday night, I  also experienced a period of despair and frustration because of Ruby, my sister's dog, whose photo you see above. 
     Ruby is a fairly sedentary animal that spends most of her time snoozing in the house.  My sister asked me to look after Ruby while she was away.  I, of course, like dogs and given Ruby's lifestyle, I happily consented to the job.  Everything went well with Ruby and I until Wednesday night.  My cousin Dan had come over for a visit and didn't leave until dusk.  Then I walked over to my sister's to feed Ruby.
     Before I fed her, I put the leash on her, walked her outside so she could do her business and I held her steady while I unsnapped the leash and fastened her to her chain outside.  Then I went back in the house to fill up her bowl.  When I walked back outside it was dark.  I knelt down to switch her back to her leash, but in the dark it was hard to see what I was doing and I had difficulty unsnapping her because of a cut on my thumb.  Before I knew what happened, Ruby jerked free and like a bullet, she shot into the darkness.
     I didn't panic at first because she is always such a hungry dog, and I figured she would come right back to the door so she could get in to her waiting bowl of food.  To my dismay, she didn't come back.
    I called and called, but no Ruby.  It was useless to go out and try to find her in the fields and woods of the rural neighborhood in the dark.  My sister had a line of flashlights standing in the windowsill, but the only one that worked was a small dim one that didn't put out much light.  The porch light didn't come on when I flicked the switch, so all I could think of to do was call her and wait.
    So for two long hours that's what I did.  All that time I was falling deeper and deeper into despair.  What if she ran out into the road and got hit?  How could I explain that to my sister?  What if she got lost way out in the woods?  I felt horrible.  I hated myself for not being more careful.  I hated Ruby for being such a bad dog.  I promised myself if she came back I would make extra sure she was secured to a line or a leash.
    At one point Ruby came back to the carport, I sighed in relief, but before I finished exhaling she turned and again quickly disappeared into the darkness, throwing me deeper into depression.  Finally after two hours I heard a dog howling in the distance in the direction of my mother's house.  I went as quickly as I could to see, and yes, it was Ruby, standing under the big maple tree.
    Not taking any chances, I picked the sausage-like dog up, an held her tightly, carried her back to my sister's house, and didn't let go until we were inside, and the door was closed.  I was so relieved, and exhausted from the stress.
     As you might expect I have been extremely careful about hooking and unhooking Ruby, despite my sore thumb, I certainly don't want to experience any more of Ruby's escapes.

You can see my paintings at:


Thursday 1 October 2015

Squeal, Crash, Thud, Thud, Pop, Bang, Crash

     At 3:00 AM when I was awakened by those sounds, I knew exactly what was taking place; someone had missed the big curve in front of my mom's place.  I turned on the light, pulled on some pants and a shirt, and headed outside, wondering what I would find.
     About 40 meters down the road I saw the lights of a pickup truck in the ditch.  I was relieved to see the driver standing in front of it.  I yelled out, "Are you alright?" And he answered that he was.  "Do you have a phone?  Have you called '911?", I asked.  He replied that he called his wife to come and pick him up.
    I got the feeling that he didn't want to call 911 and get the authorities involved, and I wasn't sure if they needed to be involved since no one was hurt.  I turned to walk back to the house and then noticed that a utility pole was down blocking half of the road, and there were wires lying on the road.  I told the driver about it and told him I was going to call 911, which I did as soon as I got in the house.  I reported the accident; no one was hurt, and a power line was strung across the road.  I grabbed a flashlight and went back out to warn any oncoming cars, approaching the curve.
    I soon realized that the electric lines were on the opposite side off the road and it was the telephone lines that were down. I was amazed that I had been able to use the phone, since the telephone line was laying on the road and the line into my mom's house was hanging just 3 feet (90cm) off the ground.
     Fortunately there wasn't but a few cars that came down the road at that early hour and they were able to slowly squeeze by on the opposite side of the road.  It took the Sherriff about 20 minutes to arrive on the scene, and I stayed out with my flashlight on the opposite approach to the curve for an hour, when another Sherriff's car arrived. 
    I was getting pretty cold, having not really dressed for a stay outside and when I got back inside it took a really long time to get warm and loose the excitement before I could get back to sleep.  The flashing lights and noise continued until morning.
   The driver had "taken out" out my mom's mailbox, some of the neighbors' boxes, the telephone pole, and the whole line of rail fencing in front of the defunct golf course.  The telephone lines are still hanging low, but have been secured away from the road.  
     I didn't really know what I was going to blog about last night when I first went to bed.