Lamont's new old Volvo station wagon.

Lamont came over Sunday to take me to the grocery store and to show the new old Volvo station wagon to me. He told me he parked here in particular because he knew I would want to take a few pictures of the car, so he figured the fall foliage should be in the photos, too.


The car came with that Thule pod and the rack! Wow! How cool! Well, he said that maybe all of the decals made him look more like a soccer mom than ever. Somehow I don't think anyone's going to mistake my son for that, just his car. Ha, ha.


One last photo to share with you. It better shows the actual color of the car. He's now the third owner of this vehicle, which I think is super.

Now for the story of why Lamont has a new old Volvo station wagon. (After the story, see photos of the old old Volvo station wagon.)

For the past few years, Lamont has enjoyed driving a 1989 Volvo station wagon, when he didn't walk to wherever he was going. He bought it from Kailey, Leland's girlfriend. The Saturday night before Halloween, three weeks ago today, he drove along a shadowy, curved road on the way home from a friend's apartment--I think it is a two-lane road, too. In front of him, a Ford Econoline van stopped all of a sudden. He stopped. It started again. He started again, wondering what was going on. The van stopped again; he stopped again. Just as he was about to blow his horn, the van's driver put it into reverse and rammed the front end of his Volvo. Alarmed, he locked the doors and rolled up his windows. Who would get out of the van? Turned out it was a woman who admitted that she was trying to find somewhere and thought she'd driven past it, so she backed up! Ruined his car is what she did. Totaled his car is what she did, $3000 to fix it, which of course didn't make any sense due to its age. She does not want to ever meet me.

That Volvo station wagon had been the car that Lamont drove to take Mama to all sorts of doctor and physical therapy appointments. It was the vehicle we picked up and dropped off my brother at the airport when he came to town to help move me to my new place after she had died, early January this year. In November, 2008, it was the car that took Lamont, Leland, and me to the woods, mushrooming. Earlier that same month it had taken Lamont, Mama, our friend Lucy (visiting from Mississippi), and me on a great tour of the Columbia River Gorge and over to Hood River, Oregon, then south around Mt. Hood and back to Portland. And since then he's driven it out of town several times camping and/or bouldering, having fun with his brother and/or friends. For his 36th birthday I had given Lamont a repair of the passenger window motor and a general tune-up of that car. All of that for naught now--blast that irresponsible woman. Good memories remain, however, and serve to dim the aggravation.

Also dimming the aggravation. The woman's insurance put him in a rental car and paid him $75 less than he needed to get the new old Volvo station wagon. Serendipitously a woman where Lamont works had the car for sale. By the end of the second week of dealing with an insurance company in a different time zone while working 40-hour weeks, Lamont got that money from Farmers and sold his old car to this wonderful repair place just east of where I live, Atomic Auto, for a fair price. He ended up with the new old Volvo station wagon and $25.

The new old Volvo station wagon checked out fine with the Atomic Auto guys (they were the ones who fixed that window, etc.), has half the mileage on it that the old old Volvo station wagon had on it. For all of us, this entire event turned out so much better than we could have ever hoped. Prayers answered.

Now for some photos of the old old Volvo station wagon and our mushrooming trip. If they make you hungry for all of the trip which was quite a lot of fun and very successful, the posts are on November 26, 2008; November 28, 2008; and November 30, 2008. You won't believe the forest and the mushrooms and the ferns and the trees and the guys.


Lamont and Leland arrive at our old apartment--I was waiting out front, excited about our pending adventure.


Lamont and Leland in the old old Volvo station wagon, as we pulled away from the curb.


Lamont and Leland getting ready to hunt chanterelles.


Just before we started the hunt, the guys posed for me.


Once we got back to the old old Volvo station wagon, hours later, the guys posed for me again. Look at our mushrooms!


We got wet, but who cares? I didn't fall down once, thanks to my wonderful sons. And I found the very first golden mushroom, too!

Thankful for mushrooming, Part IV

One of the mushrooms that we didn't pick, seen below, sort of shimmered with a most pale yellow-green sheen. Lamont told me that look signaled poisonous. The photo doesn't really show the color properly, but you can see the sheen.

When I saw this next remnant of a huge tree, I stopped and stood there for a few moments before I even put my camera up to my eye. I felt as if I stood before the altar in an awe-inspiring cathedral. I took several photos and liked what I saw in my little view screen. What do you think/feel? I'm very curious about your reaction to these photos.

Again, from a different angle which gives you a look at the upward-pointing shard of wood at the very top.

You can see in this photo that the wood has fallen away, leaving a formation similar to steps, albeit moss-covered, but leading upward nevertheless.

I asked Lamont which why were we going, and he pointed down and to the left. When I looked I saw a huge fallen tree and heard a creek, both between me and where he meant for us to go. "What makes you think I can go that way?" I asked. "There's a great big ol' tree in the way." "There's a way, Mom. We'll make it work," he replied. And he did. On the far left of the photo, see where the trunk changes color? And on the ground beneath that spot, another place that is more brown than green? Lamont stepped first on the lower spot, then on the spot on the trunk, showing me where to put my feet, then waited on top of the tree to provide support for my ultimately successful efforts.

I even paused atop the trunk, with Lamont steadying me, to shoot this photo of the running water.

More little beauties we didn't pick.

These two, from above ...

...and beside.

Here's the last chanterelles that I found on Nov. 11, with the Gerber knife Leland loaned me alongside.

As we neared the car--yes, Lamont said that's what we were doing but you couldn't prove it by me because I thought we were way higher up than the car--Lamont searched the high bank to our left.

Remember back when I started the mushrooming series, I mentioned that success was 90% preparation and 10% perspiration? Well, take a good look at Leland's hair and you'll have an idea of just how hot we'd all become. With my two raincoats keeping in my body heat as I endeavored to be a successful mushroom hunter, walking, clambering, climbing, kneeling, the only wet I felt didn't come from the occasional mist or sprinkle of rain--my back was damp and sweaty. And Leland had long hung his wonderful brown Indiana Jones sort of hat on his backpack. As for the wet spots on the back of his thighs, and it appears also on Lamont's, likely it came from walking through wet thigh-high foliage.

After getting one chanterelle, Leland spied more, at the edge of the drop-off to our right.

He carefully harvested it.

Back at the car, with the bounty on display. The guys have already shed their backpacks, Lamont his gaiters, too.

Me and the mushrooms. I couldn't feel those damp gray pants at all, what with the other pair underneath, so I didn't change clothes. I just got in the front seat for the ride home.

On the way back, we ate our picnic riding along, enjoying memories of the guys' Daddy and his Toll House cookies and Chex party mix. All of his friends knew LeRoy loved to make those two things and then share them with whomever happened to be around. The guys were too young when he died to have many memories like that, so it was special to talk about them as we ate. Later on we stopped for gasoline, and I got a bottle of water and a bottle of orange juice. After a visit to the facilities, I knew I'd be OK to drink both of them, which I promptly did. As we rode we also talked about how to divide the 10-12 pounds of mushrooms. Since Lamont's been taking all of his others to 3 Doors Down, I figured we'd do the same with these. He suggested that I keep some and try cooking them, so I did. Leland decided to keep some to cook at home, too. In no time it seemed, we had parked near the restaurant and then picked up our baskets for the short walk to the door. After the guys spread the chanterelles out for all to see, I shot this photo. Dave, the chef owner of 3 Doors Down, stood nearby, clearly happy with our haul.

All in all, I believe Lamont's comments earlier in the day, about our mushrooming adventure, summed it up pretty well. He said, "What's more surreal--an African American man has been elected President of the United States, I'm taking my mother in my own car that I have insurance for mushrooming hunting in Oregon?" He laughed as he reflected on those thoughts. I said, "And your brother,too, only one week from the election." "Yeh," he replied, "they're both surreal," and gave me a big grin.

Like Bob Hope always sang, guys, "Thanks for the memories." You did you Mama a huge favor, taking her to the woods.

Thankful for mushrooming, Part III

To get this photo, I held one of the largest mushrooms we found in my left hand and the camera in my right.

Lamont got close to the ground among the ferns and evergreens.

Sweet smile to me, his mom.

If you look closely, you can see Lamont on the left and Leland on the right, diligently searching and harvesting chanterelles among the ferns.

Lamont's find.

Leland's find.

Wow--what a mushroom!

See its size in relation to Leland!

And here it is in my basket.

At times like this, the woods seemed like a maze, but I had not a single worry, trusting my sons as I did to get me, themselves and the mushrooms back to the car.

Look at this terrain behind the guys and their baskets. Fallen trees of all sizes cover the ground.

Lamont heads up and over a fallen tree.

The guys stopped for a moment to stand beside this huge stump! In the background, see the trees lying across the clearing? In a few moments after I took this photo, I decided to take a seat and rest there while the guys went across a little creek and into a darker part of the woods. They said they'd come back in a little while and get me.

Lamont took a few steps and found a mushroom.

Here he is with it. You can see my downed-tree-resting-spot even better in this photo.

I placed my basket on the tree trunk beside me and got this photo.

Lamont came back and got me. When I looked back at one point at what he'd helped me climb and clamber over, I couldn't believe it. I don't think this photo does it justice, but it's all I could get. Little space existed between trunks and limbs, all with moss everywhere. I said, "Hey, guys, I feel like I've landed in Ewok land." They agreed, and Leland said, "That's Endor, Mom." "Right, I remember now. Endor," I said.

Lamont has both of our baskets--I'd need both hands free to help myself over the terrain. And when I saw this part of it, I thought, "Ah, less obstacles!"

Here's a lavender-purple mushroom that we left right where it grew.

And a brown one, too.

And these little ones, growing so sure of themselves.

How about this little crowd of mushrooms?

A drop of gold, found by Leland. He waited for me to get there so that I could take photos.

Harvesting it from the earth, carefully.


Not long afterward, Leland disappeared behind some low branches, only to find a great chanterelle. "You ought to see this one," he cried. "It's huge!" "Hold it up above the limbs," I said. And he did.

Here it is from the stem side.

Lamont took this photo for me, to show you those trees in the background. I managed with his help to get up and on and over them. Only casualty--my pants leg came out of my boots, but I didn't even notice that until I saw the photo.


Sorry, y'all, but I took so many pictures that I can't finish yet! Mama said, "Don't put so many pictures on there." I replied, "Mama, this is for me, too, because some day when I can't remember some of this, all I'll have to do it look at the blog." "Oh," she said, and she then remembered what she'd understood after reading through the printed sheets from Lucy's visit. I'm mailing them to my Aunt Baker in Puckett, Mississippi, who doesn't have a computer. Mama had looked up from the kitchen table and announced, "I know what your blog is. It's a journal." She's so right. And I thank you for indulging me!