I like to ride; like the feel of leaning a turn on two wheels. I like to go. A wife, fulfilling her need to nurture and nest, will soon civilize her spouse and teach him to grasp the way of happiness: do what she likes. Babe likes things to work, including her man, so I look about, searching a compromise.
"Got'a run to town, Babe, the lawn tractor has a flat."
Sand Hollow Creek
Our tire guy is in Nyssa, OR. When rail came down the Snake River, the New York Sheep Shearing Association put in a siding, stock pins, and a N.Y.S.S.A. sign. The hotel went up in 1904. The town boomed in the mid-thirties with the new Sugar Factory. The rail station, long closed, is where my dad left the farm to join the marines in 1937.
My mom came out with her family, fleeing west from the dust bowel. Her brother found work at a buck an hour, so they built a tar-paper shack and stayed. This rusted old light and sign-pole still stands where my step-granddad built a gas-station/store along the highway. Later he built the Arrow Head hotel.