It's My Lucky Day . . . Best Laid Plans of Orb and Lottery Losers

The Preakness was about half an hour into its programming when Bob Costas announced that "in less than 90 minutes, the race . . . . "

Guess I'm gonna be sitting here longer than expected, I thought to myself.  

I had come inside from mowing about two thirds of one section of lawn.  For a moment, I considered going back outside to finish it, knowing I'd have plenty of time before the race.

But the feature stories associated with the horses and their owners----that's what I really love about these special racing programs. 

Plus, the Preakness still remained important in my mind.  After all, my children, now 36 and almost 35, were born the last two times we had Triple Crown winners.

I love this time of year and the expectation that maybe this year we'll see another. So, I was pulling for Orb, even though I was wishing Rosie could win with her horse. I really like Rosie, the jockey.  She's got a bit of zip to her attitude, and I like that in people.

Then, there was "It's My Lucky Day."  All I've thought of every time I've heard that horse's name is my SHS classmate Ron Sipes who starred in the pizza ad as the guy in the pimp hat scratching off his lottery ticket, saying, "Guess it's my lucky day," only to be hit on the head by a bowling ball.  

Izn't that the way the commercial went?  If not.  Close enough.  Ron had a few lucky days in his life, I'm guessing,  because of his deep, distinct voice and because he served booze at the 219 Lounge, which he owned and where some Hollywood types discovered him.

Sadly, Ron is no longer with us, as he died from cancer a few years ago.

Every time "it's my lucky day" arises, however, I'm guessing most of the SHS Class of 1965 will think of Ron Sipes. 

Well, the feature stories on this year's 9-horse Preakness paled compared to most other racing specials.  Regurgitation of the same-o, same-o comes to mind when I think about sitting there for almost three hours, hoping for some tear-jerking or inspirational story. 

As Bill nodded off on the couch, I kept watch for something good.  Then, I heard a low-toned burp on the kitchen island.

My cell phone had a message---from Debbie who was putting in her second day at a garage sale.  She had sold a set of my books the day before for $20.  We were splitting 50-50, so I'd earned $10 at the sale.

I thought maybe she'd hit paydirt and sold some more.

Nope.

Her message:  you'd better buy a lottery ticket.  It's the richest one ever. 

I didn't know the drawing was yesterday, but Debbie, in some later messages, informed me that, yes, indeedie, the $600-million lottery winner should buy the ticket by 5 p.m.

So, I told her I'd get done with the Lucky Day and Orb stuff and then go to town to buy my ticket.  

Orb went down, so did Lucky Day.  The old man riding Oxbow took it all.  Yay, Gary Stevens.  Good bye Triple Crown 2013.   

Next year.

A little more than an hour.  That's all I had left to go to Sand Creek Conoco, buy my winning ticket and help out my buddies who sell me coffee every day for several different prices.  They always try to find a rationalization for my getting a cheaper cup of coffee. 

I like that kind of community spirit.

So, I promised them that I would surely like to win the $600 million so they could get bonuses on the 1 percent given to the store where the winning ticket was sold. 

They seemed agreeable.  

I plunked down the $10, precisely what my books at the garage sale had earned me. The clerk gave me the ticket with its computer-generated numbers. 

I left the store, thinking it would not be long before life would change dramatically. 

I wondered if I'd have to move away from America's Most Beautiful Small Town if I won.  That would be a problem.  

Still, I figured the rewards would far outweigh the nuisance of packing up and moving to Ireland.  Heck, I could even fund enough money over there that they could wake up Ned Devine, and he could truly enjoy his lottery earnings.

After visiting my mother, I thought how nice it would be if we could hire a caring doctor, full-time home nursing care and move her back to her home to live out her final days.

The nurses' job description would include monitoring every lucid moment left in our mother's mind and when they popped up, go to the barn, bring a horse to the door, maybe even inside the house and let her pet its soft muzzle. 

That would be the ultimate for our mother, and certainly a portion of that $600 million could pull that off.

I also thought about Panhandle Alliance for Education and what portion of my after-taxes several million could go to them and how happy our public school teachers could be with no worries about copy paper or reduction in force. Yup, that would be nice.

Now, I'm not all that altruistic.  Of course, my trips would planned for several years in advance, relying on my daughter Annie to be my personal travel agent.  Back to New Zealand.  Several visits to Ireland and throw in an Australian adventure.  

Yup, those would be fun.

Lots of images bouncing around in my mind----homes for both kids, lots more landscaping for the Lovestead-----which brings another image to mind.

That partially mowed lawn.  After dreaming and scheming of how that $600 million could be spent, I climbed aboard the lawnmower, turned the key, engaged the blades and the mower died.

Damn. 

One more time that stupid belt has come of the rollers.  I pulled off the protective helmet for the belt and discovered that the brand new $55 belt had not only come off the rollers for the umpteenth time this spring----it has also stretched to double its length.  

Does that mean a $110 belt? 

No, that means it was NOT my lucky day, that one more time I'd have to call my repairman and use the back-up, smaller mower until he could come and fix the main machine one more time.  $$$$

Later, I learned that someone in Florida had the only winning ticket. 

Not a good day for Orb.  Not a good day for the Lovestead lawnmower but definitely a good day to scale down some of those grandiose plans. 

Woulda been nice, though.   

And, the good news is that I broke even----did a lot better than the folks who bet on Orb.

Ten dollars for books went to ten dollars worth of losing lottery tickets and NO bowling ball landing on my head. 

Slightly Wet, Quiet Saturday AM in Selle

Smokin' Joe and the Pharoah Pup

They've hit the streets, and if you're in the area, be sure to pick up the newest edition of Sandpoint Magazine.  You'll learn about the purple life of Joe Nieman. 

Anyone who's ever shopped at CO-OP may recognize the young man in the top photo.  At the country store, you probably know him as the meticulous, business-like front-counter clerk.

Well, "Smokin' Joe" has a life after CO-OP, which he shares these days with his lovely new bride Gina.  

After-hours life turns to purple gold for Joe, come July when the huckleberries start bloomin'.  Smokin' Joe, World's Fastest Huckleberry Picker, has the gloves to prove that he knows a good berry patch when he sees one. 

Okay, that's your teaser.  

Now, you have to go pick up the beautiful new publication to read the rest of the story about Joe, along with a lot of other fascinating vignettes and superb photography, displaying more reasons why we live in a remarkable, fun area. 

Magazines are available at the major drop-off spots downtown and in outlying communities.   So, check one out.  Guaranteed good reading and pleasant imagery. 

On to other news on this beautiful Friday and a little more self promotion.  A little birdie told me that my three books would be available for sale at a "giant garage sale" near Wal-Mart and Home Depot.  

Follow the signs to Dustarr Lane just east of Home Depot.  I've heard there are a LOT of items at this fine sale, including a few signed copies of Pocket Girdles, Postcards from Potato Land and Lessons with Love. 

By the way, the card table, the table cloth and the dozen hangers that just left the house are NOT for sale.   

I'm assuming the earlybirds got the word not to show up before starting time, so the place should be open for business by the time I finish my blog.  This premium of all premium garage sales will be going for two days. 

So, take your money and run to Ponderay.

We had an Egyptian named Pharoah come to visit last night.   He and his buddy Onyx, a Boxer-Lab cross, came with their owner Justin, who was pedaling to his former home on the corner of Center Valley and South Center Valley Road. 

Well, when Foster, the Aussie, met Pharoah, the Egyptian hound, it was doggie buddies forever.  In little or no time, Foster and Pharoah were chasing each other in circles, crouching to the ground and having a rollicking good time.

In the meantime, Kiwi, resident Border Collie queen, and herder extraordinnaire, kept a close eye on Pharoah to see that he treated her little buddy with respect. 

Justin was a student in that last English class of mine, which I've often mentioned in blog postings.  Our Army hero Brandon Adam was in that class too.

At the time, Justin spoke little in comparison to the rest of the class, which made me smile and chuckle every single day.  

Years have passed and Justin knows a dog lover when he sees one.  So, for about an hour, while Foster and Pharoah played and Kiwi herded (Kea was too busy running the perimeter of the barnyard to participate), Justin and I shared happy and sad dog stories. 

It was a great visit with a former student, and I must say that I'm impressed with my very first sighting of an Egyptian hound.  Pharoah is, indeed, a regal and very polite dog.  

Well, he did leave his mark in several places on the Lovestead during the visit, but I'm guessing that will keep Todd's nose pretty busy this morning. 

One other neat note:  my son Willie (Cedar Post adviser at Sandpoint High) and his aunt/my sister Barbara (Monticola adviser at Sandpoint High) attended a Panhandle Alliance for Education gathering last night and learned that they have won a $1,500 grant for their students trip to the JEA National Convention next year in San Diego.

Pretty cool for them, and, as always, very nice of the folks at PAFE to keep working so hard to support the local educators with their creative endeavors.  Thanks PAFE!

On that note, enough said.  Happy Friday.  Go to the garage sale and pick up a Sandpoint Magazine, while you're at it.  GO SMOKIN' JOE. 

Have Your CAKE and Eat It Too

Maybe it could be strawberry short cake.  I'm sure these blossoms and zillions of others will have borne fruit by the time CAKE comes to the Festival.

I'm also thinking cake may be a nice dessert for the picnic baskets or for the booths to serve on Friday, Aug. 2 when the group from Sacramento comes to town. 

I don't know anything about Cake except for the little I've read online.  I'm betting my 30-something kids know all about Cake and Indio Girls and those Australian bands. 

Now I do know the Steve Miller Band dating back to the '70s and could actually see myself going to the Festival to listen and watch them.

And, Roseanne Cash---well, she's not on my top list of Country singers, but anyone related to the great Johnny Cash is okay by me.

One of our most favorite ever concerts during our years of volunteering for the Festival featured The Man in Black and his wife June Carter Cash.  Loved every second of that one. 

I see the Shook Twins are also participating this year.  Papa Dan has got to be the proudest man in Sandpoint.  I taught with Dan (an art teacher)  and had both young ladies in my honors English classes toward the end of my career.

I knew which one was Kate because she had a chickenpox scar on her face.  Now, if I'm wrong about that, feel free to correct me, but I tell you, they were hard to tell apart. 

Back when they were juniors, they wanted to put together a twins travel show, but instead they travel the country showing off their fabulous musical talent.  It will be a nice and a deserving welcome home for these ladies. 

So, now we know the Festival line-up, and it looks like something for everyone.  Oh, did I mention that the Spokane Symphony will perform during one night?

Funny how time changes all things:  used to be the Spokane Symphony WAS the Festival at Sandpoint and when the annual summer outdoor concerts lasted for one weekend.   Now, they get one evening over the two-weekends. 

Still, it looks like Dyno and her gang have come up with a winning line-up.

Oops, Debbie just came with the pups.  She's in a big hurry cuz she has to help my sister Laurie with her Farmin students at the Water Festival out at Laclede.

That Debbie is a busy lady this week, lining up cars for local Distinguished Young Women in tomorrow night's Lost in the '50s parade, doing clean-up with Girl Scouts at Kootenai's Matt Schmidt Park and whatever else anyone asks her to do.

I think we'll see her tomorrow night when we watch the parade during the Keokee Sandpoint Magazine publication party.  

Yup, the Festival line-up, Lost in the '50s, Waterfest, garage sales, the Preakness . . . a busy few days ahead.  

Happy Thursday, and do think about taking cake if you attend Cake in August.  

Getting There . . . .

Dandelions are slowing down.  Lilacs are blooming,  and iris are popping open. 

Sixty spuds are in the rich dirt patch behind the barn, and the entire lawn has been mowed.  It's a good day in May.

By tomorrow morning or sooner, we're gonna know who's playing at The Festival at Sandpoint this summer, and the cars are already rolling in for "Lost in the '50s" weekend. 

Sandpoint Magazine, complete with my story about our local huckleberry King Joe, will hit the streets within the next 48 hours. 

Heck, we've already had a blast of summer, and it's only May 15.  

For once, we're not belly-aching about being too far behind to ever catch up.  

That's a good feeling too.

My garden is almost complete, and I'm waiting for the calendar go-ahead to put some other stuff in the ground.  That would be 12 nice cucumber plants and 30-plus tomato plants, sorely in need of stake support.  

A few squash, some marigolds and geraniums, along with a second planting of cabbage remain in the greenhouse, apparently safe from the mole invasion which did stop short once I bought that repellant and sprayed the area. 

In spite of my continued spring itch, the warm weather gave me another break, which should prevent a little itch exacerbation.

Aside:  Bet ya've never heard of itch exacerbation, have you?  If not, please credit me for coining the term.  

Itch exacerbation, in my case, means any outside agent, including sparkling clean fingers, ignite a full-fledged scratching desire which makes that skin sizzle and those little red spots rise.

Itch exacerbation has been going full throttle the past few days, but I did enjoy a fairly good night without waking up and wanting to rub the skin right off my body.

My pharmacist gave me some tips, like to TAKE THOSE ANTIHISTAMINES day and night as long as the itch wants to hang around. 

So, I've been doing that and doing my darndest to avoid the multitude of potential itch-inflicting culprits, including Foster, the pollen, dust, unusual amounts of sun, the earth,  etc. 

Back on Track:  And during this recent time of itch exacerbation, the extra sun has brought on enough warmth for the horses' hides to shed their winter coats on their own.

That means I don't have to eat horse hair any more this year.  And, believe me, dirty, dead horse hair could possible exacerbate the weakest of all itches, especially when it comes from my perennially itchy horse,  Lefty. 

So, all in all, we're getting there, reaching the point where the daily "to do" list involves only general summer maintenance of gardens and yard.  And, that's enough. 

And, we're reaching the time of the year when all the fun stuff that draws the crowds to Sandpoint is starting to unfold.

It's a fun time of the year.  If you want people, go to town, and you'll find plenty.  If you want to go to the mountains, you can now make it to a lot of pretty places.  If you just want to sit on the deck, smell the roses and watch the world go by, you can do that too.

We have the best of all worlds coming on this weekend and for the weeks to come. 

So, it's time once more to rejoice in our usual obnoxious manner, that we're from Sandpoint and couldn't be any prouder. 

Have a great Wednesday.

After the Rain . . . .

Lush looking for the spectators and luscious for the critters.  Last night's heavy rain, accompanied by a full-blown lightning and thunder show, cleaned up the area and greened up the grass.

Since we're running a little early on springtime scenes this year, I'm guessing the next couple of weeks will bring the the height of the brilliant green hues we usually seen the second week of June. 

It's a lovely time,  and the Selle Valley sorely needed a good scrub down.  No dust for a couple of days anyway, and no need to lug around hoses for watering this morning.  

All good.

The best part of my walk today does not show up in the photographs.  If I had a "Precious" lens like my daughter Annie, I could have posted a nice photo of Jim Wood's elk herd.  

I think the entire herd had gathered for breakfast in a field below Brian Wood's house.  Too far away for my little camera lens but close enough to appreciate the view. 

I also heard my first kildeer screeching away in a field to my left.  I love the kildeer and especially love the moments when they put on such a great act, which suggests that an innocent bystander is harassing the heck out of them.

Really, the innocent bystander or walker has no idea a kildeer is even in the area until the screeching and flitting from one spot to the next begins. 

One almost wants to apologize for the intrusion.

The rain came at a good time for my pumpkins.  I planted two seeds in the top of the manure pile yesterday after doing some tractor work to clean up manure pile garden area.

Garry Bristow, the Bonner County Fair Pumpkin competition has begun here north of town.  Good luck! 

It looks pretty nice out there with the pumpkin pile and the dirt pile next to it rearranged and ready for another crop of potatoes.  

Slowly but surely the spring hurry-up work is getting done, and now we pray for no more freezes. 

Happy Tuesday. 

Quiet Monday . . . .Sunday Reflections

Mother told her friend Kay Berry that she had just "cavorted around."  Kay was out working in her yard in north Sandpoint when our drive with Mother was coming to an end yesterday.  

Our mother may not remember every single thing she did yesterday, but she can still come up with the big words to generalize her experiences.  

And, we did "cavort around" with our Mother on a beautiful day.  First, she opened and read cards, then sat nicely while Barbara and Laurie placed a new pin on her pretty jacket.  They also gave her a new necklace to add to the dazzle.

Finally, Laurie went in and found her "bling" hat to complete the ensemble.  Mother announced, even before we took her to the car, that "I feel like a queen."  

Well, driving Queen Virginia included a stop at Willie and Debbie's where Willie snapped dozens of photos---and, yes, a few napping shots.  Then, we moved on to Colburn where the word "horse" got her attention from another little snooze. 

Laurie brought Scout out, and, just like Easter, there was some nuzzling and even some petting of that soft muzzle. 

We moved on to the Lovestead, pulled up next to the new deck, which she thought was pretty, and as Barbara and Laurie sat on the deck, Marianne plucked about half of "I'll Fly Away."  My record with my mother during banjo playing remains intact----puts her to sleep every time. 

We were all pretty hungry by the time we pulled into McDonalds, so we ordered milk shakes along with a cheeseburger and fries for Mother. 

When we left her at her residence yesterday, she was happily enjoying that hamburger and those fries.  

Another great outing with our special lady, Queen Virginia,  who continues to make us chuckle and amaze us with her grit. 

My own Mother's Day afternoon turned out to be fragrant and pretty, relaxing and tasty.  A rosebush from Annie and a plant and pot from Willie and Debbie now sit on the deck, waiting for their permanent homes.  Thanks so much!

We sat for a couple of hours, visited and watched most dogs play with their toys while one confirmed herding dog kept close track of Fuzzy Wuzzy, the cat. 

Dinner time meant a rather spontaneous barbecue, complete with freshly-picked asparagus from the garden.  Mighty good when baked in olive oil, then smothered with margarine, salt and a little onion salt.  

Finally, I asked Bill and Willie to use their "tallness" and hang the Gonzaga keepsake photo on the beam entering the living room.  

We now have an official entrance to our own Bulldog Satellite Kennel in Selle. 

A great Mother's Day, indeed, and I just posted the Mother-child Jerseys from North Kootenai Road cuz they're pretty and cuz I knew Annie would enjoy the photo.

Happy Monday. 

Happy Mother's Day

To all MOMS 

and especially to our Mother Tibbs:  

Happy Mother's Day

Saturday Slight

On the way to town last night,  we decided that Second Avenue Pizza would be this week's choice for Friday night out.   

Bill said that was probably a good idea cuz we'd never get near the place next weekend during Lost in the '50s. 

For those who don't know, Carolyn, the owner, has spearheaded Sandpoint's annual Lost in the '50s weekend for years.  So, her pizza place, along with every other restaurant in town, is packed during the celebration.

Soon after Bill's comment, he began quizzing me on what kind of vehicle I was NOT seeing  on the highway and streets leading toward Second Avenue.

I gave in quickly, curious to know.  

The Mud Boggers, Willie announced.  His students had discussed the event at school. 

No Mud Boggers this weekend.  No Mother's Day Mud Bogging this year.  No high-rise crusted trucks with great big wheels headed north.  

Seems a family issue has canceled the annual affair at Moyie Springs near the Idaho- Montana border for this year.  Boggers are respecting the privacy of the organizers, according to this news item announcing the cancellation:   http://www.newsbf.com/news/1208/28mudbog.html

It made me wonder what the Mud Bogging Mamas are gonna do to celebrate their special day this year.  Will they just get dressed up, wear a corsage and go out to dinner?  

Who knows?  I don't know much about Mud Bogging, but I do know the streets were a little quiet last night with no caravans of bogging rigs rolling through town for a big weekend in a muddy place, complete with camping areas, hidden in the trees far from the outside world. 

We were all a bit curious about what really goes on at these events beside maybe a little drinking and an occasional shooting.  Bill said the boggers grind those rigs through the mud all day and part of the night.

I think he heard that information from one of his former co-workers, a young lady who once told him she'd had a good mud bogging weekend cuz nobody got shot.

I know other people who attend these events, and I invite them to throw in their two-cents so that we'll all learn what goes on and how much fun it can be.

In the meantime, once we arrived at Second Avenue, Bill said, "Debbie, get your phone out and google 'Moyie Mud Bogs.'"  

Within seconds, while other folks were ordering pizzas and calzones, the Love quartet was watching a YouTube video (could be a little X-rated if you look too close)  of last year's Moyie Mud Bog.   This one, in case you're interested:  

After a few minutes of North Idaho bogging action, Debbie googled and found a video showing Southern Mud Bogging.  Looked like those down South folks might be even more macho with their rigs than those from the North.

Anyway, while waiting for our meal, we became enlightened about mud bogging without even getting dirty.  

I'm kinda thinking mud bogging for many novitiates may be a lot like "blogging" used to be for the general population----that was back when a lot of folks who didn't blog called journals like "Slight Detour" blobs.   

We could also throw in "geocaching," which has gradually become more of a household word but still to many---the fastest growing sport you never heard of. 

And, so it goes with our mud-bogging knowledge and the sadness for all who participate that Moyie will be without its mud bogging mamas this year. 

Maybe they can go geocaching instead, or start their own mud bogging blog.  

Anyway, when all was said and done last night, we enjoyed our meal at Second Avenue Pizza, even though we never ate a drop of pizza.  It was sandwiches and calzones for us, and they're every bit as good as the pizza.

Happy Saturday. 

Productive, Pretty Week

So far, this year, I've transplanted several items into my outdoor pots---pansies, petunias, geraniums and cats.  With the warm weather this week, the cats have really thrived, like my asparagus. 

Stuff has happened at the Lovestead this week.  Plus, the morning rides through Selle continue to take my breath away.

This morning I chose North Kootenai Road, pedaling as far as the gravel pit, which is about two miles from our house.

There's a farm along the road where horses and Jersey cows always take my eye.  I wanted to snap a picture of the cows, but they must have been hiding in that rustic barn, pictured above.

On the way home, the always-pretty Murray farm appeared more striking than ever with Roman Nose Mountain in the background.

And, it's fun to see our home tucked away in its lovely spot from the south view of Taylor's field.  

At home, the scene is changing quickly.  All the sudden from out of the ground my asparagus appeared yesterday---some stems ready to eat.  I'm almost sure it jutted out of the ground overnight.  

This warm weather has put us about two weeks ahead of the usual May color show.  Lilacs are threatening to bloom.  Daffodils are done, and the blossoms on my apple trees are quickly unfolding. 

In addition, Amos and Trevor have wasted no time, constructing the replacement shelter for the horses.

And, did I mention the dandelions.  It's been a good dandelion year, and the only thing I find good about that is that they may "get 'er done" just like the daffodils, earlier than usual.  

Pat Gooby (Dandylion King) where are you?  I'm feeling mighty generous today with my bumper crop, and I'd just love to share them with you.

This day is also the birthday for four special people I know.  And, it's extra special for my cousin Brendan who can look back on an early birthday gift this week.   He's in his 40s, and he's a Chicago native. 

Two days ago Brendan caught the first foul ball in his lifetime at a Cubs game in the ninth inning.  Twas a St. Louis player Daniel Descalso who hit the foul ball.  Congratulations, Brendan, and Happy Birthday.

This day is also the special day for two of my high school classmates, both dear and longtime friends:  Laura Delamarter and Andrea Venishnick Carlson.  I send my love and best wishes to both AND, of course, a little good-natured heckling that I must respect my elders.   

So, ladies, here's some respect for your birthdays!  My time will come!

Pam Eimers is still working on catching up with the oldsters, but she IS a day older today.  She's a former teaching colleague and good friend who knows how to do a good nose job, with tape, that is!  Happy Birthday, Pam. 

A final note today:  Laurie's sixth graders did a repeat at yesterday's Idaho State Forestry Contest.  They won first place in the rookie division, which was the most competitive group within the entire contest.

Congratulations to the Farmin-Stidwell team and to their teacher Laurie and coach Bill. 

More production to be had on this gorgeous morning, like picking asparagus,  so I'll bid adieu and wish everyone a happy Friday.