Welcome to Shenanigan Valley

They say you can’t go home again, but I have, and I’ve brought my husband along with me, and my adult son. I grew up in this Idaho valley in the 1950s and 60s, and then came back every year.  Toots Ferry, the old rascal, who lived across the valley with his ancient mother, called it Shenanigan Valley, and so it is.  Something is always going on here. 

There are layers of time here, also.  The valley had been part of the Coeur d’Alene Indian reservation until it was opened for homesteading in the early 1890s.  In 1951 my parents bought these 66 acres from William Cable, whose parents had homesteaded a larger piece of our side of the valley.  He sold off sections through the 20th century until, in his 80s, he and his old wife were surrounded by this single piece of land and fruit orchards.

My parents lived here for many years. Dad died in 1994 and Mom continued to live here until November 2007.  She is still alive, but lives in assisted living with advanced dementia.  Still, she dominates my memories of this place.  And so, my husband, Jay and I will write about our part of this beautiful valley -- the meadows and woods, the springs and the creek, the wildlife.  Times now and times before.