A Little History . . .
January 6, 2010 
Leafing through the book of old southern valley pictures that I mentioned yesterday, I came upon a picture of a crashed bomber. In the background were the Panorama bluffs. The date was June 1941. There were no survivors.
I remembered Billy telling me about this crash. He, at the age of eight, had led some Army officials back to the crash site. It was six months before the start of World War Two, and he remembers that they were worried about the experimental bombsight that had been carried by the plane. Looking at the picture, you can understand that. It was surrounded by intererested civilians, and in those days people might well carry off souvenirs. Among the spectators, if I looked very closely, I could see a small boy. Could it be? Well . . . maybe. I’d love to show the picture, but there’s no doubt a problem of copyright.
There were a lot of interesting pictures in that little book. One showed some men in a canoe, surrounded by miles of water. Not many people realize how enormous Tulare Lake, north of Kern County, was. It was the largest body of water west of the Great Lakes; four times the size of Lake Tahoe. Yet it was only thirty to forty feet deep. It was a gigantic puddle. Here’s an old map.
All of the shaded areas were marshes. It was a paradise for birds and fish. The early settlers hauled fish by the ton for pig feed. Even after it was drained, it would fill in wet years, right up until the Kern River was dammed. Billy remembers watching men set off to paddle from Bakersfield to San Francisco; perfectly possible then.
Kern County has lots of interesting stories in its history. My sister and I took a class years ago. We heard about the Mussel Slough massacre; how Lovely Rogers’ mule discovered gold; the Last Gunfight of the old West; and many other tales. We had to write an essay for the class. She chose the Mouse Plague of Taft. I chose the tale of Lord Sholto Douglas and the Bakersfield saloon girl.
It’s amazing how dull schools can make history, when it’s so full of Interesting People.
Thanks to all who wished me a happy birthday yesterday! It’s number 67 (sigh).
Last Retrospective
January 5, 2010 
Here are the last two pictures in my look back at 2009. November is a shot of the riverbed just south of the house; a place I’ve captured many times. Here, it’s a harmony in green and gold.
I’ve always loved that little path to the left, framed by a triangle of willows. It looks like it should lead to some mysterious place. It just leads to a main branch of the river, but that’s good enough for me.
Finally, for December, a rare indoor shot. I was lucky with this one, catching this African violet just as the morning sun set it sparkling.
Today I went by the Borders bookstore on Stockdale, and happened to look at a little book called Images of America: Southern San Joauin Valley Scenes, by Chris Brewer. As I glanced through it, I found several interesting old pictures; but one was interesting enough that I bought it on the spot. I’ll talk about it tomorrow.
Retrospective Continued
January 4, 2010 
If you heard a loud thud this morning, it was probably the hearts of thousands of kids (and teachers — believe me, I know!) dropping into their shoes. It was a foggy morning without school delays. Oh, there were a few in outlying districts, but Bakersfield went to school on time.
It hasn’t cleared off much, and on this chilly Monday after Christmas vacation, riders have been few and far between. It’s a good day for sitting by the fire again. If you are allowed to have a fire, that is.
It’s nice to look back on sunny September and October, when we were still complaining about the heat. I don’t take many people pictures, and when I do, they aren’t that great. Still, I like this picture from September. This is Kelly, a long-time boarder, with her two little girls.
I just love that patient buckskin. I wonder what Kelly was saying to her lively offspring?
And I try, but don’t get too many good bird pictures. This red-shouldered hawk glaring at me from near its nest isn’t bad, though.
According to WordPress, I still have 98.4 of my allowed space for pictures, so I can continue to do one or two (or sometimes more) a day for a while yet.
Billy’s been having what he calls the miseries; a touch of the flu. He’s better today, but still a little sniffly, snorty, and hoarse. I’m going to go make him some nice chicken soup.
April and May
Here are the pictures for April and May, the accidentally skipped months in the march through ‘09.
April, a cheeky ground squirrel.
And May, a Tiger Swallowtail sipping sage blossoms.
The tule fog was like a gray wall outside the house last night, but this afternoon is sunny and 55 degrees, at present. I got an e-mail from my sister back in Missouri a couple of days ago. Back there the nights are in single digits. She said she sent niece Emily out the other day to clean mud that Tillie the terrier had left on the glass of the back door; the Windex froze to the glass. That’s hard to imagine. We wouldn’t have any idea of how to cope with that kind of weather. Of course, Sally’s a California girl, too; she wouldn’t have had much experience with surviving in the cold, but she’s managed to learn. And there are compensations, like watching the snow, and winter sports.
But they haven’t even had enough snow to play in yet. Six degrees and not even any snow . . . brrr.
Retrospective II
It’s been one of those days; new horses arriving, old horses leaving, your occasional crisis. We got a message from daughter Suzanne; her horse Frankie had caught her foot in the fence; could Billy come and take a look? He did. It’s one of those nasty injuries that is going to be a long time healing, and may leave a scar on the hoof wall. But it should heal eventually.
Here are my favorite pictures for June, July, and August of ‘09. From June, a dewy pink daylily.
From July, a cloud panorama.
I couldn’t make up my mind for August; the dignified old Arab gentleman, or the glowing grasses in the river bottom. So here they both are.
Photography is so rewarding. It’s not easy to pick a favorite for each month, but it’s good to criticize your own pictures. Now for September, October, and Novem . . . oops. I just realized I skipped April and May. Back to the drawing board . . . did I say it’s that kind of day?
Retrospective
It seemed as if it would be nice to look back at 2009 on this first day of 2010. I thought I’d post (or re-post) my favorite picture from each month of 2009. Here’s a cold blue river — and a full one, too — from last January.
And a stormy sunset sky from February.
March was easy; this panoramic view of mountain wildflowers.
April, May, and June tomorrow, unless something exciting happens. More exciting than a load of fresh firewood arriving via grandson, that is.
Looking Back
This is the time of year for retrospectives, it seems. As I was playing around with Google Earth, I discovered its “time machine” function, where you can look back at older satellite photographs. Of course, I promptly started checking on the ranch. The earliest shot was from 1994. Here it is.
You can see both sides of the ranch, separated by the four lanes of Manor; “our side”, on the west, and “the other side”, on the east. Below that, I’ve circled part of the big island in the middle of the river. Changes in it are quite interesting. Notice the obvious paths, which led to different transient camps (and marijuana patches, it was said). The river is mostly dry.
Fast forward to 2002.
The river is still mostly dry, except for the channel running to the south of the island. You can see the round pen we built to the west of our arena, and the big arena on the other side. Most of the paths on the island are gone, but there are still some camps. Skipping over 2003, on to 2005.
There’s water in the river; in fact, more than in any other shot. The little island above the big one is under water. The trees on the island and along our bank have grown a lot.
The most recent shot was taken in 2008.
You can see immediately there’s been a problem. This was taken after the big fire, which burned off the island and much of the north bank. That was a nervous night, but we were lucky. The river is down a lot, and the shape of the island has changed.
The next time they update, it will look much different. Most of the riverbed is full of new growth. It’s hard even to find the channel. The next high water may be Really Interesting. Unless there’s another fire, that is. That will be interesting in an entirely different way.
There are lots of other differences that can be seen, of course. They’re probably only interesting if this is a special place for you. But then, it is; not only for us, but for all of the boarders over the years.
Have a happy and safe New Year’s celebration. We’ll do well to make it to the ball drop.
It’s Raining, It’s Pouring . . .
. . . is what I murmured into Billy’s ear as I woke him up this morning. (He wasn’t too appreciative.) When we went to bed, the weatherpeople were grudgingly allowing as how we might get a few sprinkles. If we were really lucky. This is what I woke up to.
Those bright glints are raindrops reflecting the flash, as my little camera tried valiantly to light up the whole outdoors. It didn’t quite make it.
The news at noon said we got .39; a good rain for Bakersfield. That was the last good thing about the morning. Andrew overslept, and didn’t make it up to start the feeding. When he got there, they got four horses fed before the tractor broke down. When they finally got the feeding done, his little pickup had a dead battery. And the pens are all Very Wet.
At least it’s good timing. They are not predicting any more rain for at least ten days. We’ve gotten enough to keep the grass coming in the hills, and that will mean wildflowers again.
Of course, we’ve also gotten enough to make Really Good Fog, but as long as we can find the horses to feed them, we’ll be OK.
Knit, Knit, Knit
Another gray and chilly day, with only a few people around. At seven this morning it was forty-seven degrees outside; at noon it was — forty-six. I spent most of the day feeding the fire and knitting.
I’ve started a striped garter stitch blanket, with the thought it might make a nice housewarming gift for grandson Andrew — if I finish it before it gets to be ninety degrees. I’m a pretty very slow knitter. Here’s what I’ve got so far.
It should go well with the golden oak-colored flooring he’s installing. He told us he had four years of wood shop in high school. I didn’t even know schools did wood shop any more. We’ve still got a little magazine stand Billy made in seventh grade, sixty-plus years ago.
Anyhow, I’ll do five repeats of the color sequence, add side borders in the darkest color, and call it good. I always enjoy color names; these are Espresso, Chocolate, Toffee, Honey — and Beige. Beige? That’s not shining originality. I think I would have named it French Vanilla. Then I could call this the Candy Blankie.
Kinglet?
A cold gray day — again, a good day to sit by the fire.
The only thing of interest is on the birdwatching front. There has been a tiny bird exploring the patio. I think it’s a Ruby-crowned kinglet; we’ve had them before as they work their way south. I wish they’d stay longer, because they’re almost terminally cute. Above is a Wikipedia picture. The birdie outside might be a little more olive.
They’re called Ruby-crowned because of the tiny red patch at the back of the head. It’s not conspicuous, unless they choose to flash it to warn off trespassers. There’s also a Golden-crowned, whose golden head patch is more easily seen. We’ve had them, too, and I hope to see another this year (or maybe in 2010; the New Year is nearly here!).
