Uncovering the Neighbors

Calling the police, when you live in the Humboldt hills is an exercise in patience. The sheer magnitude of curvy roads dictates at least an hour response time. Thus folks tend to rely on themselves and their neighbors. As a child of country people, I grew up knowing that. Then I moved even further out—I married into the Back-to-the-land hill

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A Sweet Disgrace

  My grandmother learned to drive in snow country but even the best drivers slide on ice. Late one November, wearing a dress and heels, Grandma headed to a church potluck with two pumpkin pies nestled carefully in the passenger seat beside her. Even for Idaho, the weather was bad. Snow had fallen, then melted, and now was freezing on

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A Sweet Disgrace

  My grandmother learned to drive in snow country but even the best drivers slide on ice. Late one November, wearing a dress and heels, Grandma headed to a church potluck with two pumpkin pies nestled carefully in the passenger seat beside her. Even for Idaho, the weather was bad. Snow had fallen, then melted, and now was freezing on

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Turkeys in the Fog

In large gobbling flocks, wild turkeys strut unconcerned through the hills of Humboldt. Some of them taunt our dog by gawking at her from the ridges on either side of the house. They know no fear. Like the counter culture hippies who moved here in the early seventies, the birds are not native to Northern California. Turkeys, like the white

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