We spent the morning helping put the final touches on the displays for the sale. Judy and I, working in the Christmas room, finished opening the last box, while Anna, Emily, Patty, Sarah, and the teen sisters: Ellie and Bronwyn worked on displays. Loey, meanwhile, did yeowoman work sorting the boxes from the packing material in the sanctuary. By lunch time, my usefulness was just about at an end, so I jumped at the opportunity to spend the rest of the day with Gary Hooley. On a whim, (Thanks to the recent soggy weather, which prevented Gary from cutting his beans and bailing the last of the hay), we travelled down to the home he grew up in, and the home in which his father lived for 72 years. Ostensibly, we went to replace a door in Gary's father's house (which is now bing rented), but really, the purpose was to give me a guided tour of places near and dear to Gary's heart. Along the way, I peppered him with questions about farming (He graciously answered even my most inane question). When he wasn't answering questions, he was pointing out the geological nuances of the area as well as identifying by name every farmer who owned which acerage. Once we made it to the "Grove", we toured the sand dunes just a few miles from Gary's boyhood home, and we travelled into the wilderness past the Indian bathtubs, a now dry hot springs due to over drilling. We drove quite a few miles into the arid BLM land filled with the tufts of Crested Wheat Grass on which antelope and deer feed. Gary pointed this way and that, naming places out of our sight line that existed some miles away. We drove along the "buckaroo" ditch, a canal system fed by the Bruneau River, which led us to the Bruneau Overlook. I gasped as I peered into the dark depths of a chasm nearly 1000' deep and a little over a quarter mile wide from the point where we were standing. I share an interest in geology with Gary, and he's just as eager to share his knowledge.. I'm simply astounded by the power of nature. This particular chasm looked to me as if the earth had been sliced open, almost as if God's fingers had reached in to lift and separate a gap for the Brunei River to seep through. In the distance, the Owyhee Mountains range led our eyes over the dry desert grass to the irrigated, reclaimed farm land, and on the the infinity of the blue sky beyond. God's miraculous hand aside, the absolute highlight of my day was getting to see Gary's boyhood clubhouse. He and his brothers used to hold court in the back one of the farm sheds. It was the "boy cave" before the space we now call "Man Cave" had even become popular. The fun part is that the young boy whose family is renting the Hooley home now is also using the shed as a clubhouse. It's the rules that are too cute, especially Section 2: 1)"No noises during bible study like yelling, talking, wining, or screaming. 2) No rood body language. When Gary showed me the knot hole where he and his brothers used to hide the key from the girls, I knew I had been made privy to privileged information. In all, it was a great day for me. I'm here to tell you that it's days like this that make me appreciate that life is good, especially today.
Boxes, boxes, all sitting upright, and not one sleeping through the sermon.
Gary comes by his ingenuity naturally. His father invented and built a thrasher that fit on the front of the tractor in the foreground. It was such a new concept that a professional thrasher building company sent a man out to inspect the design. Gary's job as a boy was to run behind the tractor and fluff the grass up enough so the blades could cut cleanly. The novelty of the concept is that just half of the blade cut at a time, which because it took so much power, made the whole operation more efficient. The alternating action worked like a charm. As Gary says, Necessity is the mother of invention".
This list of rules hangs in the very spot that Gary's rules did not that long ago.
The boy, just seven or so, is just leaving the phonetic spelling stage.
These sand dunes, a geological oddity are blown into a bowl shape and rise to over 470' high. Gary said that the dunes have moved over a mile south eastward since he was a boy.
Though the camera on my phone is excellent, it wasn't sensitive enough to capture the hues of the dying light. You'll have to come visit for yourself. Maybe you'll be blessed enough to have Gary Hooley give you his guided tour.
Gary, traveling down memory lane in the old clubhouse on the farm.
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