“Retired” is an interesting concept. I retired figuratively from my job with the county in 2015 due in part to budget cuts at the state level that no longer funded staff for the Commission on Children and Families. I was also 65. I could draw social security and receive Medicare for most of my health needs. It seemed like the right time to move on to the golden retirement years.
Well, life doesn’t always come wrapped up in a neat package. Farming is always an off again, on again enterprise. And in 2015, it was on off. Cherries were hit by rain, pack outs were poor, and the credit organization that carries many farmers through some bad years owned more of the farm then we did. There were devastating family concerns on multiple fronts. We thought we had prepared for the inevitable loss of Flip’s brother, Tom, but it was much harder than we expected. He is sorely missed.
So when the state offered me a job providing technical assistance to tribal and county prevention coordinators and grantees, I went back to work almost immediately. It was enjoyable on the professional and financial side as well. I missed the friends I had made in the prevention field over the last 25 years. This job offered an opportunity to reconnect with them as well as assist those new to the field in need of training and support. It also gave me the freedom to come and go pretty much as I wished, with only a few deadlines. Dream job. It has been a very rewarding few years.
Fast forward to 2019. The business of farming continues to have its ups and downs. Last year, it was the Trump trade wars. This year may be a rerun of 2018. And it rained once again during cherry harvest. It remains to be seen whether we can market the rest of the season’s cherries. Optimism runs deep in the calloused hands of a farmer.
My husband’s health also took a hit this spring, first with a life- threatening battle with Type A Flu followed by pneumonia. It has been a slow recovery. But the silver lining to all this is that he has successfully turned over the farming operation to our son Corey, an orchardist experienced in complying with all the food and safety rules and regulations through his Diamond Fruit Growers experience, and a “boots on the ground” speedy learner on all of the physical requirements of growing good fruit.
All of these challenges have sparked a renewed interest in an official retirement on my part. I will continue to work on periodic jobs with Oregon Health Authority and answer a few of the federal program requests for technical assistance, but I will be spending a lot more time attending our grandchildren’s functions and fulfilling a promise I made to Arne Udelius years ago — to write the history of our Finnish forefathers.
This column is entitled Roots and Branches, the roots of our ancestors, the branches of our family and the fruits of our labor. It is going to be fun devoting some substantial time to researching my Finnish roots. Learning how the Annalas intertwined with other Finnish families like the Hukaris and Jakkus, and how their settling in the Hood River Valley has changed the lives and livability of our community. I am not sure how far out on the branch I will climb, but as long as it is interesting, I will share with you. Hopefully you will share with me as well. Stories true or false, myth or legend, happy or sad — all will shed light on the Finnish spirit of Sisu, of strength and courage, of service and solitude. It will help our children better understand the irreverent sense of humor that their Finnish aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, exhibit on innumerable occasions. It may help explain that quirky characteristic many of my father’s family had of seeming to enjoy arguing about anything and everything at any time. It was seldom about being right or wrong. It was simply the joy of participating in a good argument.
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