I'm pretty sure my home does exist!

I don't know if anyone else has this problem, but for me, since moving to Waterville, online shopping has become a bit of a challenge. The issue stems from the fact that there is no home to home mail delivery service here. Our homes don't even have mailboxes! Instead, everyone in town has a PO Box and has to travel to the local post office to pick up their mail. Honestly, this isn't really that big of a deal considering the fact that everything in Waterville is a just a couple of blocks from anywhere. The problem is that our home address is not always recognized as "valid."

I know that there won't be a problem if the company will be shipping via UPS. I think UPS would ship to a street corner if I gave good enough directions. Some companies don't specify their shipping method so I automatically enter my PO Box address first, in hopes that they'll be able to send my purchased item through the mail. Frustration sets in, though, as soon as I receive the message, "We're sorry, we are unable to deliver to a Post Office Box. Please enter your home address." Well, that would be just fine if the US Postal Service recognized my home address! Unfortunately, many online merchant sites automatically scan the USPS database to verify that you have entered a "valid" address, and our home is not in the USPS database! Nevertheless, I obediently enter my home address and click submit over and over, hoping the system will have pity on me and stop saying "Please enter a valid address!" Alas, my efforts at annoying the automated system ultimately fail and I end up having to ship my item to Adam's parent's home in Malaga.

Wheat Fields

Yet another reminder that summer is over: all of the wheat has been cut leaving acres of unsightly golden stubble. It is the only time that I find the fields to be particularly unattractive. I wonder how many non wheat farmers really take the time to notice all of the different kinds of beauty that can be seen throughout the year in the wheat fields. When the ground is bare, I think it looks a little like a Japanese garden, intricately decorated with parallel grooves that swirl in patterns across the rolling hills. As the wheat seedlings begin to grow, if the sunlight is just right, the fields glow bright green. I think the fields are the most beautiful, though, when the wheat is fully grown and has changed from green to gold.

This year I noticed for the first time how the wheat moves as the wind swoops through the fields. It looks like yellow ocean waves. It was fascinating to be able to "see" the wind in that way and to realize just how unevenly it blows. Of course, for days after that I had the lyrics "Oh beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain" stuck in my head. How cheesy is that? I must be a music teacher.

Deer Crossing

I used to have a much better opinion of deer, but daily pre-dawn driving on Hwy 97 has completely ruined my appreciation for them. My official distaste for the pea-brained creatures took root a couple of summers ago during the big repaving project. We were cruising along the freshly grooved pavement when Adam and I spotted the herd in front of us. I remember both of us letting out a startled shout as Adam hit the brakes and the tires began to screech! We skidded for what seemed like forever before finally coming to a stop, smoke billowing from the tires, just a few inches from several crossing deer. As we sat there holding our hearts in our chests, the deer continued across the road, without so much as a flinch, dopily ambling their way to the other side. Wouldn't you think they'd be a little frightened by the noise and commotion? It was as if they didn't even know we were there.

This was just one of many near-misses we have experienced during our early morning commute to Wenatchee. The deer on this side of the river seem to have become very accustomed to traffic and the multitudes of carcasses littering the roadway certainly don't deter them. It is interesting to me that you never seem to hear about the Hwy 97 deer hazard on local radio, yet there is always talk of the big horned sheep that love to hang out on the shoulders of 97A. I really hope it isn't "just a matter of time" before we actually hit one.