Let today be the day....

When someone says, "....love story...." the first thought is that of romantic love.

I read this today and it struck me that the truth of the matter is this:

 if you love someone, there's a story. 

And that's it. 

Amen.

Free and Forty....something

Over Easter, my friends "James"* and "Sue"* and I were discussing how great it is to be forty-something. It started when "Sue" confessed that it turns out she doesn't like strong coffee. For years she's been playing along with everyone, kind of secretly watering her coffee down when no one was really looking because it seemed less honorable or something to drink weak coffee. To be honest, I'd never really noticed her coffee business, but apparently she was worried about being teased or ridiculed for drinking light coffee. Now, in her forties, she's decided it doesn't matter and that she doesn't have to pretend. It is what it is, she is who she is, and it doesn't matter what anyone thinks. 

After that brave admission, "James" thoughtfully told us that he had only recently figured out that he really wasn't all that outdoorsy....meaning, he'd rather stroll a street than hike in the woods with a backpack, that a good bed was nicer than a sleeping bag on the ground.  This was BIG for a Montana boy to admit because one of the things we are indoctrinated with growing up in our beautiful state is that everyone must be outdoorsy.  There are varying degrees of outdoorsy-ness, from casual weekend campers to obsessive downhill skiers who would sell their kid brother for a season pass. But we're all expected to be outdoorsy in some way. (Not that "James" doesn't like doing things outdoors; he just isn't a hunter/fisher/hiker/whatever.)

Mine is similar to "James" in that I don't like hunting. I used to hunt and thought I enjoyed it, when really it was mostly spending time with the people I was hunting with, and hiking. I don't have a problem shooting an animal for meat or cleaning it or wrapping it. It's okay. I liked the end product; when I was single, it was the only reason I had meat to cook oftentimes. But if someone asked me for my top 20 things I like to do, hunting wouldn't be on that list. I'm not sure I'd even put it on a top 50 list. I hunted because my boyfriend at the time hunted. And because women in Garfield County gain a certain popular status by hunting. It's cool to be all liberated like that, doing man things with the men. I wanted approval. I wanted to be one of those cool women. 

But I really just don't need that validation anymore, you know? I'm forty-something and I don't really care that I'm not cool ESPECIALLY if being cool means that I have to wear pink camo. *shudder*

I don't think any of us really realized that we were pretending. I think it was probably just more of a functional thing, trying to get by without making waves, fake it til you make it and all. But the glorious freedom of owning our choices and lives without justification....that was worth all the junk we went through to get here. (And believe me, all three of us have been through some righteous junk in our lives.)

*Names have been changed to protect the super-secret identities of my friends. Not that they're in the witness protection program or anything, it just seems the courteous thing to do. 

Dear friend Sally,

I was going to start this letter poetically, all about the sun and the warm earth, but I just can't wait to tell you: the peonies are coming up!  I'm so excited!  

Well, at least two of them are poking their little heads out of the soil. One of the others is in a shady spot and will probably be another week. I had almost given up hope. This will have been the third time I've tried planting peonies, with the prior two efforts ending in sad failure. (That's right. Not simply "failure", but "SAD failure".) They seemed impossible. I would enviously drive past yards in Miles City with their abundance of lush blooms, stems drooping with the richness of the flowers....

I would also tell myself (like Emma in the movie of the same name) that really they were drab little flowers and who cared? (I cared. I cared a lot. Has anyone in the world thought a peony "drab"? I thought not. Because they aren't. They're glorious.)

Now, I know you said that they probably won't bloom the first year. That's just fine. And I know I shouldn't count my blossoms before they set on, but I am. 

The cats think I'm nuts, gasping at the ugly little beginnings of the plants, then cheering. (Really, peonies are quite homely on day one and two. Maybe even into day three. They have little alien-like heads before their leaves spread out.) I have to be careful, because if the dogs think I love a plant more than them, they promptly dig it up or lay on it until it dies, gasping and cracking. 

I completely forgot to take a photo to post; I can do that tomorrow and add it here. 

In other, more ordinary news...

The tulips need divided, so they only sent out two or three reminder blooms this week, sulking until they have their way.  All the trees and shrubs have baby leaves, tender and bright. The birds make such a commotion when I venture near! Oh! And for a few days we had two little owls living here! They were grumpy and blinky because they insisted on trying to sleep under the honeysuckle bush right next to the front door. Tough neighborhood for owls. 

I need to get something pulled together for supper, but I wanted to share the news with you and my other friends who read the blog. Or who used to read the blog. It's been a long dry spell, I know. 

Isn't it delightful, though, to have garden triumphs?! 

Happy spring!

The Farmer's Wife

I Might Have to Move to Australia...

...just so I can meet the people who put together and are featured in this magazine.

I was packing my "bag of wonders" as the kids call it for the trip to Billings and was just about to put these magazines in when I thought, "OH! I haven't blogged about THESE!" So everything came to a skidding halt so I could tell you about this incredible publication that my friends Myron and Ada subscribed to for me...

I know.

Focus.

But this is really, really special.  You'll be glad I'm a flake when you look a little closer...

The periodical is called "graziher" and it's about/for/of women in Australian agriculture and LIFE. It's independently published and is one of the most gorgeous things I've ever seen. The paper is thick and sturdy, good quality, so it can bounce around in a farm truck or have a pie set on it to cool and you'll still have a good read. The photographs...oh, it's like they took my camera and captured the images I would have, except probably more professionally. Either that or they have amazing photo editors who spiff up the scenes.  

I love the fonts.  Yes. Even the typography is well done!

It shows women making a difference in their communities and branching out to impact world culture...

It portrays the tricky beauty in ranching. Not everyone appreciates a good cow picture, but I do! (And I think you all are starting to as well, as much as I inundate you with them.) Even the sheep in this magazine look good. I'm not a sheep person at all, so that's saying something big here.

There are recipes, too, but only a couple and they're really practical and fresh. Nothing with frou-frou ingredients that would be hard to get your hands on or keep in the pantry. (I'm going to do this tart, but I need to convert the measurements!)

Poetry (and book reviews)...

FASHION! But just a little. It's almost an afterthought....as though the editor said, "Well, we'd probably better have SOMETHING fashion-y..."

This particular ensemble is one that i'm going to try to copy, somehow, for this fall/winter.

There's art, too....not just photographic art, but watercolor and pottery and metal and screen printing art! 

One of my favorite features is the article they include in each issue (so far...all two that I have) about the "pioneers"; the women who preceded them in Australia, those who you look up to and say, "Someday, I want to be like HER." 

I wish a magazine such as this existed for women in Montana. 

Nothing political or with an agenda, but a good strong read that encourages and motivates us, that portrays us as we really are. 

If you'd like to look at graziher in person, you're welcome to drop by and have coffee (and perhaps the tart), look through and have a visit! 

Due to the fact that they're from Australia and basically irreplaceable, I'm not going to lean them out but I WILL share them here. 

(Yep. That's the way to get company!)

Myron and Ada, thank you so very much. 

When I opened the first issue and leafed through about 10 pages, I got tears in my eyes because I thought, "Finally. Someone 'gets' it. Someone made a magazine for us..." 

And then "But I'm not AUSTRALIAN!!!!"

Even so, I love it and it DOES encourage and inspire me here.

Okay, NOW I'll finish packing...

But not to move to Australia. 

I'm just going to Billings.

(Grandma came through surgery fine, as of noon today and now we can tease her about being into heavy metal because she's got a plate in her hip and a rod in her arm.)

I Think You Need to Know...

Today's assignment is to write about something I feel strongly about.
I thought a long time about this one, because this year it seems everyone feels strongly about EVERYTHING. No matter what I thought to write, it seemed heavy and controversial, and I don't know about you but I'm quite weary of that.

And then it came to me.

I believe that if you love someone, you should tell them.
Don't assume they'll be able to figure it out or that they already know or that you'll get to it someday or that it's too scary so it's best to avoid the matter.
Tell them.
Just say it.

In the family I was raised in, we always have and continue to do so.  When my grandpas each died, I was sad of course, but there was no doubt that the last words we spoke to each other were "Love you, Gramps" and "I love you, child".

(Yes, I'm crying, here. So many people I love and miss...)

It's good to back up the words with action, of course. Words can be empty without action, meaningless without the follow-up (or perhaps precedent). But I feel very, very strongly that if you love someone....friend or family or even pet....that you should tell them.

Some people are scary to say those words to. And there are those who are scared to hear them, or don't know what to do if someone has the nerve to speak of love to them.  That's okay. The older I get, the more I think "What's the very worst that could happen? An awkward moment? Is that worth the regret?".  It'll be okay. Tell them, anyway.

I have to go, now.  My grandma broke her hip and wrist yesterday and is having surgery today, so I'm going to try to get things squared away here, then head to Billings in the morning. I just had to get this blog post out, because it's too important to me to be packing it around in my head and heart.

For what it's worth, I also want you all, the readers of the Chronicles, to know that I so appreciate your faithfulness through the years. I've made some of the best friends of my life, and learned so much, laughed and cried and exclaimed. You really saved me in so many ways because when I started writing this, I felt very alone. Thank you. I do love you, too.

Bye, now!

A Word to the Wise

I was supposed to write this blog post yesterday.

In my planner, it just says "Words of Wisdom", so I'm not certain if I'm supposed to share my wisdom, or words of wisdom given to me along life's path...

I don't know.  Neither option is good, really. 

Most of the words of wisdom I got from my elders ran along the lines of practical knowledge, meant to keep me safe and help me along in the world. Besides the golden "treat others as you would want to be treated", I got things like this:

"Don't put your tongue on cold metal; it'll rip the hide right off it." (Standard wisdom that kids nearly always test, only to find out that it is indeed true.)

"If the fish aren't biting, use a chartreuse lure." (Grandpa Dutton)

"Use real butter and real vanilla, always." (Aunt Bert)

"Cut away from you. Remember Miles Phalen's missing eye? You don't want to end up like that." (A good threatening example that I never forgot.)

"When you're cooking, make enough for the group you have plus a couple extra. You never know when someone might drop by." (This happened fairly often, actually, and I still cook for six even when there's only four of us.)

"When someone asks you to dance, never turn them down. You don't know how much courage a guy has to get up to ask a girl to dance." (Dad)

"Don't go anywhere without a jug of water." (Everyone in Eastern Montana.)

"Dress in layers. You can always peel clothes off to get comfortable, but it's rough if you don't have any to put back on when it gets cold." (Again, everyone in Eastern Montana)

"Wait for the man to open your door and pull your chair out." (Both parents.)

"Be early for everything, at least 15 minutes." (Cardinal rule)

"File most recent to the top" (Mom)

And so forth...

I can tell you that I have no real wisdom myself, but have been carried through many years on the wisdom of others who were generous enough to share it with me.  There's a lot of nonsense floating around, false fronts and empty platitudes that my kids are going to bump into. I hope I remember enough of these for them to hang on to as well!

Bigfork Summer 2016

Actually, it's Ferndale.

(For those detail people, you know...)

We flee the prairie in July every year and head to the mountains where it's cool and damp. You've already seen Glacier, but this is how we spent the majority of our time in Western Montana...

We build on to the ever-evolving magical tree house.

This trip, a lookout ledge was added! 

(It looks like a good spot for mommies to take cocktails up and stare at the stars while talking of big dreams to one another, too....)

Every project needs a supervisor who has no idea what's going on.

Mud pie pastries are concocted.

(The really do look like the fancy chocolate confections in nice restaurants!)

Hummingbirds are admired.

This is quite possibly the best representation of my daughter that I have...

She'd been clumping around in Grandma's heels, so we found her some glittery Dolly Parton ones of her own in which to practice graceful walking.

A troll hunt was postponed for the next series of pictures...

A handsome escort was procured...

(Reluctant, but not out-and-out rebelling at the idea of it all.)

Some instruction given on those tricky turns...

 One of the best moments of our visit, in my opinion.  

 Let the wild rumpus begin!!!

We have built-in, next-door "cousins".  Talk about HANDY!

They're not going to be next-door in a week or so, so I'm glad we had this relaxed time in July.

Houdini, patrolling the grounds...

 More "cousin" time, with different pals.

We're so blessed to have lots of loved ones in all corners of Montana!

Quinnie had his first loose tooth while we were there! 

I just want to squeeze him, every time I see him...

He usually lets me.

I love that kid.

Beethoven, killin' it in his cowboy hat! 

This is a chronicling of the Best Day of The Troll Hunters.

All I know is that trolls are repelled by soap, which is why everyone needs to take a bath before bed!

The hummingbird got TIRED.

It's crazy, to see them resting!

Sara 

My soul sister.

And then there's bike games! 

We LOVE the lions! 

One day, I happened by to see that one of the kids had carefully placed a bouquet on one of the lion's paws. I think the other one was laughing at him, but I can't swear to it....

In the lookout ledge!

Here's the playhouse kitchen, all tidied up.

They made peasant-style open shelves cool way before the trend hit HGTV.

As we leave, the kids say goodbye to every, every, EVERYTHING...

the mountains, the playhouse, the trees, the signs, the old guy walking his dog.

We leave a little benediction and prayer of gratitude behind every time we drive away, always conscious of the gift of love and joy in a blessed place of retreat.

Heartwarming

The blog challenge assignment today is to write about five ways to win my heart.

I'm changing it to five things that warm my heart.

It's my blog. I'll do what I want! 

1. There's something very dear to me about children's hands being held by old people's hands, or vice-versa. Actually, now that I'm typing this and getting it out of my head, I think ALL hands warm my heart! So much of your life story and personality is right there at the end of your arms.

2. Genuine, happy laughter!

It's just the best!

3. Special songs from good times in my life warm my heart. Especially if they show up from out of the blue.  Yesterday I got in the car to head over to Vern's to work cows and a song from Grease was on the radio...it was like a gift, and it made my heart happy! Here it is, so your heart can be happy, too: (click here)  (Go ahead and dance...no one's looking.)

4. Baby calves. Baby anything, but baby calves have big, curious eyes with 2 inch eyelashes, sweet little noses covered with feeler whiskers, knobby knees, big stick-y out-ie ears....little heart warmers, right there.

5. Oh, man...I can't decide between a fish on the line or homemade bread, here.  

Glacier Park

I'm not going to write much in this post. I'll just post pictures and let you imagine what a delightful day we had celebrating Maggie's 12th birthday in one of the most breathtaking places in the US.
Enjoy! (We certainly did!)

Lake McDonald

We like to "skip" (translation:chuck) rocks.

Hiking to the falls, through the fairy woods.

It was SO LOUD!

He explains with great authority things he knows nothing about...

He explains with great authority things he knows quite a lot about...

Something big has been here!

Like, a bear. 

A tall, very strong bear.

Not so very long ago, either...

Maybe we should go another way!

You can see the burned trees on the horizon...

That was the side of the park the bears lived on, but they moved looking for food. 

Obligatory wildlife shot...

I didn't even get to the pictures of the lodge or the ferry boat!  Glacier saturates your brain with its unparalleled majesty, leaving you to just stagger open mouthed out to the "real world". We just saw a teeny tiny part of the park; next time we think it would be fun to ride the red buses up Going to the Sun Highway.