Life is full of change and transformations, ain't it. Terry Asanathapolis (who was our mail lady for MANY years) said good bye to her daughter Molly, who after 30 some years in Nevada City area is moving to the great city of Portland, Oregon. As Molly, who lived in N San Juan recently said, "maybe you have to move to the big city to get away from the noise of all those barking dogs." Cities are noisy, but maybe not as noisy as the woods in some respects. Ever notice how you can hear a dog bark from 1/2 mile away, or hear the wing flaps of a raven crossing your yard, or hear the constant pelt of the acorns falling from your trees? The sounds of silence in the woods can be deafening.
I first laid eyes on Nevada City when I was 16. As my girlfriend and I drove up Hwy 49 under the Broad St. overpass, there was a fresh dusting of snow on the trees. The gold rush buildings looked perfect, as if they had just been built, and the fall colors were lingering. I had never seen such a beautiful town. I vowed that I would live here one day on that very trip. I was raised in Berkeley, Ca, and San Francisco was my playground. I graduated, worked in San Francisco for 10 years, then over to Walnut Creek and Danville area, for a total of 19 years. I have visited many of the great US cities, New York, Atlanta, Chicago, Los Angeles, Seattle, Boston. 10 years ago I walked away from my job of 29 years, and bought a home in Cascade Shores. My dream was to leave the big city, and move to the mountains, and find friends and community in a small town. Molly's dream is to leave the mountains, escape the small townness, and move to the CITY. Ain't life funny. I hear this story repeated often in speaking with people from/moved to Nevada City. I guess the opposite lifestyle can be very appealing.
I hope Molly finds what she seeks, and as much happiness in Portland as I have found in Nevada County.
The demographics of Cascade Shores have changed since my move in April of 2000. The "old timers" are mostly gone, the real pioneers of this area. Now you see bicycles, toys and lots of boats and motorcycles in the yards, instead of the family sedan. There has been much change in the last decade. At 68 and 57, I guess Phil and I are the new "old timers" and keepers of the history. I know the names of the 2 men who originally sold the lots here, Goldberg and Cooley. I know Sharon Hess, who says she and her husband did alot of the the grading and driveway building. I know my house was known as the "Butterfield house" as that was the original family that lived in it 40 year ago. I know that Lost Mine Lake was nothing but a small swampy area, before it was a lovely park. I know that there are hot springs beyond Lost Mine Lake, and I know from my hikes exactly where you can find the most bear poop. I know that if you stay on Banner Quaker Hill Rd beyond the shores, you will hook up with Hwy 20 by the Washington Rd. I know that Dorothy and Lloyd Honey donated the land for the firehouse, and Dorothy kept 3 HUGE Maine Coon cats and wove intricate pine needle baskets.
I hope someone else younger than me takes the time to find these things out. History should not be lost, even the little perhaps insignificant things.
I went to Eugene, Oregon last weekend for my sister's memorial. She died on 10/20/10 after a 4 1/2 year battle with breast cancer, transforming from her pain on earth, to her peace in the great beyond. Her history, and our history together lives as long as I live, and her daughter and grandchildren who loved her. I like that. Miss you Lindy.
If you got this far, you might want to know that the wandering Shih Tzu's are safe at last. Lilo was recovered on Saturday in Grass Valley, found under a porch. Aurora was trapped tonight in my very back yard, that bad girl. Neighbors thankfully reported many sightings of her, including her keeping company with a black Lab. No wonder she didn't come home, she had a tall, dark, good looking boyfriend!
No, I won't lie to you. I was furious that Brandy was eliminated from DancingWithTheStars, and Bristol Palin (who I like, but has the grace of a wildebeest) made it to finals. But not as mad as the Wisconsin man who blasted his TV with his shotgun, that ended with a standoff with a SWAT team. Whoa, that's taking reality TV to serious pal. . . . . . . .