Summer Re-wind: Tour de Friends 2014 Part I

The kids and I planned and executed an epic road trip for the summer that would take us to Bigfork, Spokane, Belgrade, Billings, then home in ten days.  It would be filled (to the brim) with family and friends, adventures big and small, good food, Bigfoot hunting and swimming, among other things.  Here's the chronicle of that trip FINALLY...you know, two months later.
It was that epic.

We left home with high excitement, a less-than-impressed puppy, and travel bingo that Maggie had created the day before.

Maggie hit the jackpot when she saw a road killed fox, and I thought I was going to get skunked by the "alk" until I almost hit a cow elk in Idaho on the interstate. Angus wasn't really trying, which was annoying to those of us who WERE, but it was still fun. You can see that NONE of us were able to cross Bigfoot off our bingo cards...probably the only disappointment of the whole trip.

First stop was in Lewistown, MT for haircuts.  I was completely fed up with the hair upkeep battles that Mags and I had been having for two years, so the deal was that if she wanted to do all the swimming she had planned for the trip, she was getting her hair cut into a more manageable length that she could care for by herself. 

My stylist and friend, Kenzie, (young and cool, so that helped) measured Maggie's hair and gave her the option of cutting it for Locks of Love, an organization that takes hair donations and makes wigs for kids who are losing their own hair due to chemotherapy.  Maggie took a look in the mirror, stuck her little chin out and said (very decisively), "Do it!" 

WOW!

This is a photo taken west of Great Falls...yes, I was driving but I didn't look through the viewfinder; just pointed and shot. (No clucking allowed! It was perfectly safe!)

We got to the 'fork in good shape, ready to collapse as usual after driving 500 miles.

Tessie got busy on the first of 30 rawhide chewies she'd destroy over the course of the tour.

Games were played...

It rained a LOT while we were there!  And it was cold.  But when there were breaks in the rain, we'd play outside for all we were worth.

We had to have a cookout, one day....

...carve on sticks...

...eat hot dogs one right after the other...

(Cooking them is an art that we take very seriously.)

Perhaps Tessie was the wrong one to guard the chips and hot dog buns, but she was no more dangerous than Grandpa Jasper or Angus, really.  Gotta watch them like a hawk around potato chips!

Mmmmmm!  Marshmallows!

The next evening, we had a little party with Uncle Frank and the cousins next door!  (Side note: my kids think all their very best friends are cousins, mainly because when they were much younger all their best friends WERE cousins for the most part.  Now we have "cousins" in Bigfork, Belgrade, Rosebud, Billings...none of which we're related to by blood, but all that we're related to by heart.)
Here Frank is showing Maggie and Cece how to properly peel shrimp.  They were experts after that.

Angus and Quinnie, taking a break from playing for a little chocolate milk refreshment.

The menu for the grown ups included G&Ts, which pair nicely with shrimp and potato chips!  (Turned out that Sara-from-next-door had never heard of the Bellamy Brothers, despite having grown up in Billings, MT. THIS was unacceptable, so the soundtrack for the evening was a Bellamy Brothers internet radio, which turned out to be perfect with the fun we were having. There's nothing like peeling shrimp to "Dancing Cowboys".)

This is pretty much how all of us looked the whole evening....happy to the core.

The next day, homemade ice cream!  Grandpa Jasper is the ice cream boss, but it never hurts to have someone reliable (like Quinn) close at hand in case there's taste testing to be done.

We all had seconds.  Some had THIRDS.
I love summer...

MORE cousins arrived from Kalispell for the day!  Larkin and Maggie are fairies of some sort...this is the only picture I got of the kids that day because they were running wild, playing their hearts out.

Meanwhile, at Sara-from-next-door's...
we moms got together for cocktails and deep discussions about matters that shall never be revealed here or anywhere else.  All I can say is that we laughed a lot...this picture of Sara pretty much encapsulates the afternoon for us.

Sam, who is one of my Bigfork besties, brought wonderful food and a little balance to the party...
(I say "balance", but it really translates as "cultural conversation" which we promptly found the humor in and laughed still.)

I loved Sara's pitcher for the hard cider tea!  She has the coolest style...

And that's the end of the first three days.  Or was it four? 

The next installment will be Spokane-y!

It's Just Not My Cup

I'm not a progressive person, technologically speaking.

I don't have an iPad/Pod or Kindle. 

I hate the computer panel in the "new" car that requires a 3 hour training to run.

My smart phone is getting a little too big for its britches and I shut it off frequently, rather than listen to it alert me to every message, score and update available. (By the way...YES, I KNOW my voice mail inbox is full. I keep it that way on purpose.)

And I think Keurig coffee makers are killing conviviality.

Whew!

There, I've said it...and probably will get some fall out for it. 

Do you know what Keurig coffee makers are?  Those space age looking machines that sit on the counter of everyone's kitchen now; you tip out a little door, insert a minuscule canister of premeasured coffee grounds, close, place your coffee cup under the spout, push a button and in seconds you have a steaming cup of coffee.  It's very convenient, quicker than lightening, no muss, no fuss...

I can see why they're popular.  Especially for someone living alone who doesn't want to brew a whole pot of coffee just for themselves, or for families with all sorts of crazy schedules who leave the house at different times.  

But that's just the thing:

How welcoming is THAT?  

Coffee brings people together.

I was raised with certain coffee rituals.  

The first smell in the morning was of the coffee my folks were brewing. Plans for the day were made over cups of coffee; not just between Mom and Dad, but also when there was a crew for branding or shipping.  When kids were dropped off at school, there was sometimes a migration of moms back to our house to discuss life, laundry stains and refill the go-cups. Pots were put on when we saw dust up the road: "Grandpa and Grandma Mosby are here!" 

There's a certain script that used to be followed by everyone:

Host: Can I get you a cup of coffee?

Guest: (politely) Oh, don't go to any trouble...I'd have a cup if you were going to make some for yourself.

Host: (relieved) It's no trouble at all!  (bustles around, filling the pot, measuring coffee, etc.) 

There's chatting while the coffee is brewing, then...

Host: How do you like your coffee? Cream or sugar?

Guest: I'd take a little cream if you have it.

And the conversation commences.

This little back and forth opening sequence to a visit is hard to pull off if all the host has to do is push a button for coffee to appear in a cup and handed over.  It ISN'T any trouble and the guest knows it.  

Then there's the personality of a brew.

In our family, weak coffee was a sign of weak character.  

A good strong cup of coffee was redemptive...all sorts of things could be said about someone, but if "they sure make good coffee" then they were probably all right at the core.  

Many times, there was only time for one cup so it had to count...you can't make it all morning on a namby-pamby cup of java, you know?  Besides which, it's just a waste of grounds to simply color the water.  

Warnings or praise would be issued prior to visits to someone's house. "They make awfully weak coffee..." or "One thing about it, __________ sure can make coffee!"

Keurigs are disappointingly, industrially predictable and one can't determine a thing from the cups issued thereof.  The owners can buy different pods of different flavors, but ultimately it comes out the same...smooth and balanced.   

I've gone back to a percolator, myself, simply because it takes up less space and looks charming on my counter.  There are no filters to buy and it makes happy little burbles as it cooks.  It makes enough coffee for two to four people at once. I can carry it all around the house if I wish, and it doesn't leave a scorched taste in the coffee if I forget to unplug it right away.  When I have company, we follow the time honored script you read above, the little pot chugging and glugging away in the background as we wait and visit.  My friends and family know I make my coffee a little too strong, and there's probably warnings to that effect as they come up the drive.  That's okay...you can always add water or cream, but you can't fix a weak cup of coffee.  

Progress is very good, and I admire people who roll with it easily.  This post wasn't to castigate anyone who has a Keurig....which would be about 80% of the U.S. population, now....so if you have one and love it, great!  I just hope the culture of hospitality and the art of making coffee from grounds in a pot is not lost in the convenience and practicality of the space age coffee machines being used today.  

Happy birthday, son of mine!

(Photo taken in Spokane, WA.)

Happy 10th Birthday, Maggie 'Bella!

Dear new mommy,

I'm thinking of you today.
And I have something I want to tell you.

Someday you're going to find yourself folding clothes in the same room that you brought her home to. To your great shock the labels will read "Size 12", not "12 months".  You'll look at the soft yellow walls that you've been putting off painting (bright apple green, because she's fearless in her color choices), and realize that she's growing at light speed.  The sunshine tinted walls were perfect for a baby, a little girl who brought sunshine into a room as she exploded into it, but it really IS time for the green.

You'll put the underwear away and be surprised (even though YOU bought them) that there are training bras.  Her shirts will still be modest enough, because you're buying those, too, and still have a say in THAT, but they'll be stronger in color and message.  These aren't the sweet little lace suntops that you remember putting away just yesterday...10 years ago.  She might have camouflage jeans for you to tuck away, and you'll smile because you understand she's trying to connect with her dad at this odd girl-woman stage.

Instead of being just another chore to check off your list, you'll discover that doing laundry has given you a very personal, very sweet moment of reflection and insight.  It may be akin to the feeling you had when you put her in her crib in that yellow room for the first time and thought, "Well, baby...here we go! What an adventure THIS is going to be...".

Only THIS round, there'll be apple green walls for a background.

Brace yourself.

With much love, empathy and prayers for you in your adventure,
The Farmer's Wife

Sunday Hike

I KNOW.
This is the fourth or fifth post in as many days...what gives, right?

Something you should know about my little family:
We are Overpreparedness ROYALTY.
Let's take packing for a hike in one of our north pastures for a couple hours, for example.  Each person had a backpack with water, an extra shirt or socks (depending on the person), snacks and so forth.  Maggie's pack also had a wooden box with colored pencils, her nature journal, two reference books for birds and pond life (published 1953 or thereabouts).  Angus had bug spray, LEGOs (I'm sure of it), a couple containers to carry bugs home in, gloves, and hand sanitizer that he brought out at every pause in the hike and offered around.  I don't know what was in the Farmer's pack, but right before we left, he was fiddling around with two way radios, and there was a bowl for the dogs to drink out of.  Mine had my phone, camera, and the dogs' water.  And we had a small cooler with lunch, too.
It looked like we were setting off for Queensland or something.
Perhaps we've watched too many episodes of Gilligan's Isle and it's scarred us all for life.

Anyway...

Here are some pictures of the two hour tour.
Warning: There are a LOT of rock pictures.  We dig rocks.

But first, a cactus flower!  Thank goodness they were blooming, because it helped us locate the cactus piles easier...

Fixing to begin the hike.  Maggie is lecturing us on hiking etiquette, here...
She got a cactus in her shoe approximately 3 minutes later, prompting dire warnings about the dangers of wilderness and how to avoid them.

Gumbo lilies are the most ephemeral flower, giving up petals about 5 minutes after they're picked....

...like this one that was picked by Angus instantly upon spying it.
You'll note the BB gun.
He desperately wanted something to attack us so he'd have an occasion to save the party with his weapon.
No such luck. *sigh*

This is very exciting.  The dogs spied something DEAD and bounced over to investigate.

Not everyone will think this is a lovely photo, but I'm struck by the delicate swirls of the nasal passages...
there's beauty in our creation, far under our skin, even!

 These are layers of rock, like stacks of paper or cardboard...

Happiest doggins in the world at that moment! Her whole body was smiling!

Maggie tried to journal at every point.  Right before I took this photo, her dad stepped on her sandwich.  AAARRGGHH!  

Here's the poem she was working on sitting on the rock with the sky behind her:

When I feel the rain coming down

and the wind in my face,

I feel something.

When I can feel the grass on my bare feet

and smell roses bloom,

I feel something.

I feel.....

Home.

 It could be Montana, it could be craters on the moon...

LOOK!  A TREE!!!  It's noteworthy, here.

 Another happy doggins.  Happy and TIRED.  Twillie kept up pretty well, but she thought the fun part ended with the emptying of the lunch bucket.  Hike over! Let's go home, folks; my couch is calling!

A side shot of a gumbo lily glowing in the sun...

We found ONE yucca that was preparing to bloom.  Not a good year for yucca blossoms, I guess.

We eventually made it to the reservoir to the south.  The dogs were completely delighted with the swampy coolness of the water!  Angus WANTED to wade in, but the cow pie mud was a bit more than he wanted to tackle.  

(I love the line in this picture.  Sometimes all the elements come together in the photo like I see them in my brain at the moment.)

OH! While we were waiting for the Farmer to return with the Trailblazer, I took pictures of the mama duck and her babies across the reservoir.  They were too far away for me to identify, but when I was cropping the pictures on my computer I discovered it was a canvasback hen and her ducklings! (The two interlopers by Mama Canvasback are grebes.  They're cheeky.  She's trying to ignore them.)  I don't remember ever seeing a canvasback around here, so this was big for me!

I also tried to take pictures of the many azure dragonflies, but prairie dragonflies are nervous little things and even too fast for the sports setting on my camera.  Here's the best I could do. They seemed to adore the sagebrush!

Survivor VBS 2014

We just wrapped up a week of Community Vacation Bible School in Jordan. (Technically, it's only four days worth, but for some of us those four days are the culmination of several months of preparation and prayer. I should just say, "We wrapped up the 2014 VBS season" as though it was NFL or NBA or something.)

This year's theme was Wilderness Escape about the journey Moses and the Israelites took after leaving Egypt, how they had to trust God for everything. We broke into tribes of about ten kids per leader and helper, each tribe having a different color and name.  My tribe was Simeon and we were orange....as in "Orange you glad you're in Tribe Simeon?!?!" "YES!!!".  (This was the first year I was not a station person, so I was very worried I'd get a tribe of delinquent Israelites and would spend my whole time dragging them around by their precious little ears, fiercely (but lovingly, right?) whispering threats of desert torture.  I'm not going to lie, I hit my knees hard, begging God for mercy in this area.)

He WAS merciful.
I ended up with the sweetest group of big eyed, kind hearted, funny kids...
I mean, look at them!

If you think I spent all week hugging them and telling them how glad I was that they were MY tribe, you'd be right.  One little girl only came on Day One...I don't know if we scared her or if she had a family vacation or what, but we were then a tribe of nine.  I took THIS picture on the last day and we were eight, because a teeny little soul decided she was defecting to her big sister's tribe.  

I had a pair of helpers that tag teamed during the week.  We'd leave a station with one and by the time we got to the next station, it would be the other.  I seldom saw them do the hand off, so it was kind of startling to find a new helper at the end of our raggedy line.  

On the last day, we went to the Snack station first:

It was Ten Commandment Tablet cookies and water.

I don't know about the other tribes, but mine was hungry ALL THE TIME.

Including me.

On Tuesday, we had quail (Peeps) and manna (Frosted Flakes) during the Bible story time, above and beyond snack time. I think it was THE most effective lesson of the week, partly because it saved our (real) starving lives. 

Part of the reason VBS is so high energy is because of the sugar that's regularly applied throughout the morning.  

The next station was crafts, where we wrapped up a three day weaving project on cardboard looms with recycled tshirt strips. 

You'll note the brilliant example of boy-child bedhead on my little friend at the front of the picture. 

I'd look over at him throughout the morning and just grin...it didn't hurt that he was beaming right back at me with his hair waving.

On to Moses' Tent, where we had the dramatization of the day's Bible story.

Seriously.

Don't you just want to squeeze each of these precious things?

They were such good kids.

I'd look at other tribes with sincere pity, all week.

I noticed that there was some coveting of my kids, too, but it was in vain.

Team Simeon was tight.

We left Moses and eased down the hall to the missionary room which was all about water...our offerings taken daily were to help families who had no clean water to get it for a year. Only $2.50 would do that!

Each time the kids gave an offering, they got to put a blue balloon "water drop" in the tank.

They gave so much that the station leaders ran out of blue balloons on Day Three.

That's cool. 

Our last station was fun and games....literally.

Every day, we had an injury.

Sometimes it was a head to head crash, sometimes it was a sliver or cut...nothing serious, but just enough that I ended up finishing out the session with a tired little body on my lap, anxiously looking for some sign of blood. 

We never did find blood, except for the red paint of the sacrificial lamb of Passover from Moses' Tent.

After all this, we'd tromp back down the hill in the middle of the street to the Assembly of God church for the finale, which consisted of much singing, bouncing, loud memory verse recitation and so forth.

There's a core group of us that have been doing this VBS gig for about 7 or 8 years, I think. We started with no money (save our own), no solid curriculum, about 20 kids (including our own) and lots of determination fueled by prayer. 

This year, we were blessed with enough money from donations and fund raising to be able to buy necessary supplies and even some we considered "luxury" that in years past we'd make ourselves. (Luxury meaning posters that were purchased, the bandannas for each kid, etc.)  We ended up with about 45 kids solid for four days, and an enviable staff of volunteers that helped make things like snacks/games/missionary themes happen. 

Sometimes I forget that not ALL missions are overseas or inner city, you know?  The best part of this is that I will be able to keep in touch with these kids throughout the year, visit with their parents and keep track of their little lives long term.  They're going to be prayed for every week...my tribe and ALL the kids...because the folks who "produce" VBS have them in their hearts and on their minds year round.  

Tessie Lou, Brittany Supermodel

I'm horribly biased, but I think Brittanies are the prettiest, classiest dogs in the canine world.  Especially the females, with their flouncy feathered legs and perky triangle ears....not to mention the bright eyes that notice EVERYTHING.

Here's Tessie at 9 months...
Ready for a centerfold spread in Gun Dog magazine.

Here is the bird who has built a raggedy old next in one of our spruce trees and who swoops and cusses at the glamour girl for getting too close.

Fierce looking little thing, isn't he?  

I know this is the daddy bird because he did a horrible job swooping and cussing.  The mama bird returned a few minutes after I finished taking the photos and took him to task over his relaxed attitude toward property protection. 

I think she was secretly pleased that we said disparaging things about the nest because she herself had not thought it up to snuff and so was validated in her criticism. 

Crazy Cukes

This is going to seem ridiculous in its simplicity, and you'll wonder why I'm even posting such a recipe because surely I'll remember it until I die, but I wanted to share it.  Kind of like a dumb joke that you can't keep to yourself.  Or something.  

I started making this when I tried a recipe for Korean Tacos made from beef short ribs, which I always have an overabundance of and no real inspiration for using them.  The tacos were amazing (yes, I'll post that recipe later) but the cucumbers were what we couldn't keep out of!  

Paper thin slices of 1 cucumber mixed with paper thin slices of red onion, a good splash of sweet-and-tangy rice vinegar, salt and pepper to taste...shazaam!...fresh pickles you'll be hiding from your family and lying about the existence of.  And you won't even be ashamed of it.  

For those of you needing more specific measurements, let's say:

1 cup of paper thin sliced cucumber

1/2 cup of paper thin sliced red onion

1/8 cup of sweet and tangy rice vinegar

1/2 tsp salt

Four grinds of fresh ground pepper (or more to taste)

Toss in bowl and let sit for 5 minute if you can bear waiting that long. 

These are exceptionally good on roast beef sandwiches.

And if the bowl empties in 10 minutes, just add more cukes and onions to the brine...no problemo!

The Gift

There's an Ian Tyson song about Charlie Russell's gift of being able to capture the wild beauty of Montana and her inhabitants, to the extent of God telling Russell that he was in charge of painting the sunsets from heaven because "I can't paint them quite as good as you".  (It sounds irreverent, but it's not, really.)
If you click on the bright red words above, you can listen to the song and it will make more sense.

Russell and God were in fine form this week, so I'm posting some pictures of their work for you to ooh-and-aah over. (These were all taken from my deck or yard, and are unedited.  Those are the true, real colors.)  I grew up with this richness and still find it stunning, never becoming blase' about the sky here in Eastern Montana.  
By way of understanding scale, in the fourth picture you'll notice a little round ball on the bottom left side...that would be a tree on the hill to the north of our house by the county road.

This post is especially for Myron and Ada Pentz in Perth, Australia who sent me a stunning little book by a woman rancher who takes photos of the color around her in the Outback.  

Thank you for the additional inspiration! 

This is Montana...

Where you and your daughter will drive 80 miles to attend a 40 horse parade in the rain with friends  who drove 40 miles themselves to join you.

A friend who will bring two books about women ranchers in the West who write. A friend who still has your kids' clothing from a 120 mile sleepover with her four and your two kids five months ago. You'll visit as hard as you can with her while the kids "drink cocoa" in a local sandwich shop.  The decision will be made to feed them at McDonalds and the visit will continue, with french fries and stories of brandings.

 You'll then load up and drive another 78 miles, narrowly avoiding a speeding ticket, to go to a baby shower in a bar for a friend you've only actually seen in person one other time.

The other time was a seven day blind friend-date in another state with a concert and fauhncy dinners scheduled...the binding interests being (among other things) wine, Pat Green, and an Eastern Montana upbringing. A friend who understands the idea of deep roots and a restless heart.  A friend who subscribes to Bon Appetit magazine so you can both try kohlrabi salad, two states apart.   

The baby shower in the Blue Room (which is actually red) will be filled with complete strangers to you....but only for about 15 minutes because after that, connections will be made in a manner such as this: "Do you know the Greens? My Aunt Bev is a Green.  Here...Aunt Bev, this is Mary Pluhar from Cohagen.  She knows Mike and Thelma." "Now, what Pluhar are you married to?" and so forth.  You're not a stranger in Montana very long, no matter where you're from.

Now that you've driven nearly 160 miles and have made at least 5-10 new friends in the area, you decide to stay for the After Shower Festivities (which is where everything REALLY happens, as most Eastern Montanans know.).  But that gathering is to be held at the ranch where the guest of honor was raised... 

Which ALSO happens to be the ranch of your father-in-law's friend from college in the 1960's, a friendship that has lasted for nearly 50 years.  Completely random circumstance, as it happens.  

Let's say you and your daughter load up the flowers and leftover cheesecake to follow your friend to her folks' place after she and her mom pick up a pizza "just around the corner" (it's actually the OTHER direction than that they were indicating with their nods and hand gestures...tricky).   The ranch will be 30 miles from the Blue Room (yes, still red) in the bar around the OTHER corner from the pizza joint, through gorgeous Montana breaks country.  

There will have been a little drama involving cars that were borrowed and a wedding that no one really wanted to go to but had to, in the car that was borrowed and currently 70 miles to the north.  Pizza will be consumed, hair curled, drivers and replacement cars designated and dispatched.  

Which would leave a smallish party of the new mama, baby, new grandpa and the guests from Cohagen, who ended up discussing mutual acquaintances and areas....some with surprising connections. Although it's not REALLY that surprising because Montana, after all, is one big small town. 

At some point, you'll have to leave because even though this IS Montana, sleep-over baby showers are not in vogue unless it rains 3 inches and there's a gumbo road.  It will be hard, because the day has been so happy and besides, you might not see these friends for another couple years...when the baby is running and climbing trees.  

You and your daughter will take a shorter alternate route which may lead you to the highway or Ashland, depending on the accuracy of your turns. But you'll make all the right turns, pausing for cows on the road and buck deer in the velvet crossing the gravel road in front of you. 

You'll find the highway and drive north for 65 miles in a stunning summer evening, where the sun is setting like it's made for a movie, listening to your daughter name horses she'll never own.  And you'll wave at every car, thinking that one of them is the car returning to your friend's dad's ranch.  

There'll be a street dance on Main Street, so you'll turn on Ian Tyson cowboy songs in support of the festivities for the last 80 miles home, thinking over how amazing that life is to joined these people by way of a humble blog started by a lonely ranch wife in the depths of winter.  

It will smell of rain and you'll pray for a torrential downpour as you pull into your driveway and shut the rig down, gather up your books, camera, daughter and new memories...walk past the moths beating on the porch light...

Better get to bed.  Tomorrow you'll move cows.  You'll hope it's in the mud.