I drove into town today, to get my son a Carhart hat. Don’t know why it had to be that brand, but it did. I am getting his 1st qtr pkg. ready to go to him, and I had forgotten the hat. The rules are really strict, the items have to be brand new, with the tags still attached, and can not cost over a certain amount. I also have to enclose the sales receipt, in the box, and the box can not weigh over 15 lbs! He needed a pair of shoes, and they alone must weigh a good 8 lbs. I will see once I get it to the post office. ANYWAY, (got side tracked there) I went to the Farmer’s Co-op where they stock the Carharts gear, and got the hat, logo can not be over 4 “. (sheesh) And picked up black oil sunflower seeds and Bird seed for the birds.
I noticed on the way into town, that the WSDOT was working on the stop light up on the highway, and it was really tied up. So as I headed home, I turned left down Scenic Heights Road, and took the long winding way home.
I used to live down that road when I was a little girl, and memories started flooding back as soon as I left the city limits. It was a typical March day, windy, and scattered clouds, but the sun was peeking through just enough to call it partly sunny. The naturalized Daffodils were popping their bright yellow heads up out of the tufts of grass and meadows, and yelling as loud as they could…”WAKE UP TOODLE OO!! IT”S SPRING!!! Come out!!” They are the noisiest flower!! I drove slowly down the road looking at the houses lined up along the bluff trying to pick out where my girl friends lived. The houses have mostly been replaced by McMansions, and it was hard to find the familiar places. As I headed out of the trees and towards the spot where the road split, I saw that the road had washed down the bluff years ago, and the way was blocked, where we used to go. My old school bus #5 used to park there, in the turn out, right in front of Mr. Rienjes’ house, and there used to be wild sweet peas that grew over the bluff. That has all fallen down onto the beach now, and the road goes BEHIND his old farm house. Sad…I remember him very well, he was a nice man.
I drove on around the back, onto Balda road, and then turned back towards The bluff on Miller Road. I stopped at the corner, right where Myrtle Kennedy used to live. I remember playing dolls at her house, and her grandma had a little tiny cottage right next door, that no one lived in, so we would play there. There are new houses there now, and the old farm house is looking a little worn and well-loved. As I headed South, I saw Bonnie View Acres, and was totally amazed! It has been sub-plotted, and more houses are spread all over the old farms lands. I looked for the old Ghost town we used to hike to, but it is gone now too. As I rounded the corner, and headed into the Penn Cove Park development, I saw that the woods on the corner were all gone. New houses are being built, and the house where Mom and Dad lived was dwarfed by development!
I took a drive through the Park, and remembered where friends lived. The houses are in disrepair, and small, as they were the first houses to be developed outside of the city limits, back in the early 50’s. Farms were what made up Whidbey Island then, and very few places were built other than the towns. Not so now days, every un developed piece of land possible is being sub-divided and sold to out of towners who are coming up with pockets full of inflated dollars. Our peaceful little Island is fast on it’s way to becoming a suburb of the greater Seattle area. I hate to see this happening.
I shook my head and drove past the old store where we used to swipe candy bars with the owners kids’, and it and the house that we lived in are all gone. The little vacation cottages are gone, the Barn where Phyllis got her first kiss is gone. The trees we climbed and swung from the tops of are gone. The whole place is full of new houses. All with a view, and all costing a whole lot more than the cute little 3 bedroom house with the knotty pine paneling and the flagstone fireplace where we grew up. I almost cried. The beach is still there where we played every single day, and the little cove full of driftwood is still there, and I saw that way off to the side, some child had built a log fort, just like we used to do when we went to the beach. Driftwood would be stacked up like a log cabin, with seaweed draped over the roof, and clam shells for dishes. We had some good times on that beach.
As I drove on, saddened by the changes, I thought of how it must look to the Old timers that are still alive and remember their old farms and homesteads. Ya know, some things need to change, for the better, but there are still certain things that never should. I drove on away from my childhood and back onto hiway 20 where I was once again a 60+ woman with failing health, kinda made me want to stop the car and go play in that fort…
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