The Fireplace
In an effort to get out of the office today, myself and one of my co-workers went up river to 55 Mile HMU - the last irrigated HMU Ice Harbor is responsible for. It's a bit of a drive to get up there - about an hour or so from the dam (farther if you're leaving from Tri Cities) and the entire drive is a whole lot of rolling, wheat covered hills... And not much else.
So, kind of a long, dull drive, but since it got me out of the office, I can't complain. I will, however, complain about how the little ATV/Ranger thingymabob that we leave up there to get around the HMU wasn't actually drivable, so we pretty much drove an hour to do a whole lot of nothing. Such is life.
That isn't why I'm writing, though. Nah, that was just the journey, so to speak. What I actually logged in to write about involves a trip down memory lane that was sparked by the journey... or at least by a stop at a convenience store in Lyons Ferry on the way back to the dam.
After the bust at 55, we headed up to cross the river at Lyons Ferry - which is one of only two bridges that cross the Snake River within a distance of at least a hundred miles. The other, of course, is the one I cross every day to get to work. Anyway, Lyons Ferry is a pretty small town consisting of a marina... and that is about it. The marina has it's own restaurant and little convenience store, though, and it's the only one within 50 miles or there abouts, so they keep it pretty well stocked.
Anyway, we stopped by the marina on our way back to Ice Harbor because I wanted a bathroom break and some munchies, and my co-worker was rather open to the idea himself considering he hadn't brought a lunch. We stocked up on junk food - ice cream, chocolate, something to drink, and a Crunchy Type Snack each. I did Funions, and Pete went for Corn Nuts.
It was the Corn Nuts that made me remember. I hadn't had them in years, and they brought back some pretty fond memories.
When I was a kid, my dad had a store in Marshfield called The Fireplace - which, surprise surprise, sold fireplaces. We practically lived there growing up. Dad had the place open 8 to 5 Monday-Thursday (Fridays until 7, closed Sundays), and Mom was working all over town as a gymnastics coach, an aerobics instructor, a random YMCA jack of all trades, and a... something in an advertisement company, and she was doing this all at once. They were both working the equivalent of full-time jobs and couldn't afford child care, so my brothers and I spent summers and many afternoons after school hanging out at the Store - stacking wood, sweeping the floors, keeping the fires going, and trying to keep the merchandise dust-free (quite the challenge when there were often at least three wood-burning fireplaces going at once, so ash and smoke got all over the place whenever we reloaded them).
When we didn't have any chores to do, we had several options as far as entertainment went. I never really thought about it then, but the Store was in a pretty damned awesome location - the city pool was right across the street. Wildwood Park and Zoo was only a small hop, skip, and Frisbee Golf course behind that, where there was a playground, two ponds and a small stream that was perfect for goose-feeding and bullfrog-hunting, and one of the best sledding hills in town in the wintertime.
Heading the other direction, there was an ice skating rink about four blocks away for some wintertime exercise and fun, and the city fair grounds were about a half a mile to the east. Seeing as Marshfield was home of the Central Wisconsin State Fair every year the week before Labor Day, that was a whole six days my parents could be rid of us! At least for a little while. ;) It was also kind of nice because one of my best friends lived less than a block away, and one of my brother's best friends lived right across the street from her, so there was no shortage of stuff to do to keep three kids age 15 and younger (I turned 12 the winter before dad closed the Store and started working out of the house instead, which made Gus - my oldest brother - around 15 or 16) occupied and out of your hair for a few hours.
When we weren't cleaning the show room or off running around the neighborhood with our friends and/or siblings, we hung out in the back room, where there was a TV, a comfy couch, a small table and a few toys to play with. It was our "family room" at the Store, where we ate lunch and did our homework and invited our friends over to hang out for a few hours. There was a fridge in the back storeroom, which was kept stocked with sandwich fixings, fruit, soda, and juice. Corn Nuts and Mr. Phips Pretzel Chips were standard snack-fare, purchased from a tiny grocery store down the street. Once a week or so we'd also hit the bigger grocery store only about a mile further down for a more substantial lunch of an extremely tasty rotisserie style chicken, potato salad, a bag of Potato Skins, and finger jell-o for the kids.
The Fireplace was our home away from home, and I doubt I could ever possibly count the number of fond memories I have of that place. Hundreds of Pizza and TV (TGIF!) nights with my family, years decorating the showroom for Christmas and Halloween, summers spent swimming and winters spent sledding. It was where Dad taught all three of us how to start a fire with a single match, where we gave Aunt Susie *and* Mom a surprise birthday party and celebrated many smaller, family-affair birthdays as well. It kept my brothers and I supplied with huge cardboard boxes that we used for forts, obstacle courses, and the occasional Halloween costume, and it was the first place all of our family and friends would go looking for us if they wanted to visit.
I honestly haven't thought about that place for years. I mean, I did, but it was always in a kind of general sense, where some little thing would spark a particular memory of a particular day or event at the Store. I would go swimming at an outdoor pool, and I'd remember summers spent at Hefko turning brown as a nut. I see a little kid playing with a cardboard box and I would remember the cardboard box-turned-car-turned-toy box my brothers and I kept all of our toys and stuffed animals in at the Store. Or I would drive down the road where I knew one of Nine's sisters went to live and I would recall the afternoon we had at least three of the seven puppies at the Store in a big box, waiting for their new owners to come pick them up.
When I really *think* about it, though, I realize that The Fireplace *was* my childhood, and it was kind of great. I never knew that we were poor and occasionally just scraping by for money. All I knew is that we were happy, and I wouldn't trade those memories for the world
So, kind of a long, dull drive, but since it got me out of the office, I can't complain. I will, however, complain about how the little ATV/Ranger thingymabob that we leave up there to get around the HMU wasn't actually drivable, so we pretty much drove an hour to do a whole lot of nothing. Such is life.
That isn't why I'm writing, though. Nah, that was just the journey, so to speak. What I actually logged in to write about involves a trip down memory lane that was sparked by the journey... or at least by a stop at a convenience store in Lyons Ferry on the way back to the dam.
After the bust at 55, we headed up to cross the river at Lyons Ferry - which is one of only two bridges that cross the Snake River within a distance of at least a hundred miles. The other, of course, is the one I cross every day to get to work. Anyway, Lyons Ferry is a pretty small town consisting of a marina... and that is about it. The marina has it's own restaurant and little convenience store, though, and it's the only one within 50 miles or there abouts, so they keep it pretty well stocked.
Anyway, we stopped by the marina on our way back to Ice Harbor because I wanted a bathroom break and some munchies, and my co-worker was rather open to the idea himself considering he hadn't brought a lunch. We stocked up on junk food - ice cream, chocolate, something to drink, and a Crunchy Type Snack each. I did Funions, and Pete went for Corn Nuts.
It was the Corn Nuts that made me remember. I hadn't had them in years, and they brought back some pretty fond memories.
When I was a kid, my dad had a store in Marshfield called The Fireplace - which, surprise surprise, sold fireplaces. We practically lived there growing up. Dad had the place open 8 to 5 Monday-Thursday (Fridays until 7, closed Sundays), and Mom was working all over town as a gymnastics coach, an aerobics instructor, a random YMCA jack of all trades, and a... something in an advertisement company, and she was doing this all at once. They were both working the equivalent of full-time jobs and couldn't afford child care, so my brothers and I spent summers and many afternoons after school hanging out at the Store - stacking wood, sweeping the floors, keeping the fires going, and trying to keep the merchandise dust-free (quite the challenge when there were often at least three wood-burning fireplaces going at once, so ash and smoke got all over the place whenever we reloaded them).
When we didn't have any chores to do, we had several options as far as entertainment went. I never really thought about it then, but the Store was in a pretty damned awesome location - the city pool was right across the street. Wildwood Park and Zoo was only a small hop, skip, and Frisbee Golf course behind that, where there was a playground, two ponds and a small stream that was perfect for goose-feeding and bullfrog-hunting, and one of the best sledding hills in town in the wintertime.
Heading the other direction, there was an ice skating rink about four blocks away for some wintertime exercise and fun, and the city fair grounds were about a half a mile to the east. Seeing as Marshfield was home of the Central Wisconsin State Fair every year the week before Labor Day, that was a whole six days my parents could be rid of us! At least for a little while. ;) It was also kind of nice because one of my best friends lived less than a block away, and one of my brother's best friends lived right across the street from her, so there was no shortage of stuff to do to keep three kids age 15 and younger (I turned 12 the winter before dad closed the Store and started working out of the house instead, which made Gus - my oldest brother - around 15 or 16) occupied and out of your hair for a few hours.
When we weren't cleaning the show room or off running around the neighborhood with our friends and/or siblings, we hung out in the back room, where there was a TV, a comfy couch, a small table and a few toys to play with. It was our "family room" at the Store, where we ate lunch and did our homework and invited our friends over to hang out for a few hours. There was a fridge in the back storeroom, which was kept stocked with sandwich fixings, fruit, soda, and juice. Corn Nuts and Mr. Phips Pretzel Chips were standard snack-fare, purchased from a tiny grocery store down the street. Once a week or so we'd also hit the bigger grocery store only about a mile further down for a more substantial lunch of an extremely tasty rotisserie style chicken, potato salad, a bag of Potato Skins, and finger jell-o for the kids.
The Fireplace was our home away from home, and I doubt I could ever possibly count the number of fond memories I have of that place. Hundreds of Pizza and TV (TGIF!) nights with my family, years decorating the showroom for Christmas and Halloween, summers spent swimming and winters spent sledding. It was where Dad taught all three of us how to start a fire with a single match, where we gave Aunt Susie *and* Mom a surprise birthday party and celebrated many smaller, family-affair birthdays as well. It kept my brothers and I supplied with huge cardboard boxes that we used for forts, obstacle courses, and the occasional Halloween costume, and it was the first place all of our family and friends would go looking for us if they wanted to visit.
I honestly haven't thought about that place for years. I mean, I did, but it was always in a kind of general sense, where some little thing would spark a particular memory of a particular day or event at the Store. I would go swimming at an outdoor pool, and I'd remember summers spent at Hefko turning brown as a nut. I see a little kid playing with a cardboard box and I would remember the cardboard box-turned-car-turned-toy box my brothers and I kept all of our toys and stuffed animals in at the Store. Or I would drive down the road where I knew one of Nine's sisters went to live and I would recall the afternoon we had at least three of the seven puppies at the Store in a big box, waiting for their new owners to come pick them up.
When I really *think* about it, though, I realize that The Fireplace *was* my childhood, and it was kind of great. I never knew that we were poor and occasionally just scraping by for money. All I knew is that we were happy, and I wouldn't trade those memories for the world