Gurgle gurgle to the great wind-down

Gosh, how many times have I done this in my life. I'm guessing this is my 61st bidding of adieu to one more calendar year. I'm guessing the first time about all I had to say about 1947 winding down was "Gurgle, gurgle." I don't really remember cuz that was a long time ago.

So, why not revert to old ways?

"Gurgle, gurgle 2008."

I've been thinking all morning about what should be said on a day like this as we see the countless reminders on TV of what did happen in 2008 and who among the rich or famous died. In some cases, I looked at those photos and thought they had already died during another year. That same phenomenon happens to me here in my hometown too.

While gurgling on with the subject of "good byes" to a year, I must issue the annual "thank you" to my former student, Bryant Jones, who keeps me in calendars. No Ya Might Be a Redneck special this year, folks.

Instead, a beautiful calendar, called "Beyond the Woods" and featuring wildlife art by Minnesotan Michael Sieve, arrived in yesterday's mail. It's sitting on the kitchen island, along with all my 2009 Co-Op Country Store supply.

Sometime today, I'll have to put them all up on walls in various rooms so we oldsters will know it's 2009 and what day it happens to be. Bryant's calendar for this year is too nice to put next to the commode where the this year's Redneck special has made me laugh many times.

I'll probably put Bryant's gift calendar on the wall behind my computer, where I spend just about as much time as I do at the commode. There's just a different mind set when you're at the computer, and to walk into the room and see those beautiful wolves, bear and deer will set a nice tone for sitting down and working---if there is any work in 2009, that is.

Actually, I do have two deadlines to mark on one of the calendars. One's my River Journal deadline for January cuz Trish is still hiring me to write "Love Notes." The other is April 11 when I'm going to talk about memoirs to a group of Coeur d'Alene writers.

And, speaking of memoirs and remembering things, how about that second hoax launched on Oprah.

Would folks please tell her to read "Lessons with Love," which has insignificant memory lapses compared to the Jewish couple with the apples and the guy with all the million mental problems! There IS a difference between forgetting and inventing when you're writing your memoirs.

The only lapse in my books involved a "clouded memory" when I talked about the number of pies consumed by David Jones in the drill team pie-eating contest and about all those pies falling off from Lucy's assembly line, which were actually chocolates. Nancy Gerth, why didn't I believe you when you corrected that in my manuscript. Shame on me!

I saw in yesterday's paper that I can spend 42 cents to be reminded of my mistake, once the Lucy stamp is released in early 2009. Maybe I ought to buy a bunch of those stamps and stick 'em over the mistake in my book.

We've got a lot to think about if we spend time reviewing the events of 2008, and there are some aspects---maybe even many---aspects of the year we would love to forget or possibly invent a better outcome from what really happened. Wouldn't it be nice if we weren't ending the year with so many "ain't it awfuls?"

Well, like any year, this one has had its ups and downs. Outcomes are always relative to each person's individual experiences. For some, this has been a phenomenal year; for others, maybe it's involved too many personal disappointments and sad moments.

The nice thing each Dec. 31 is that we can put it all behind and tack up some new calendars with relatively empty date boxes, open to endless possibilities. And, wouldn't it be nice if on this day next year, we can reflect on 2009 and think about what we did to make life better for ourselves and for the world around us.

Not a bad goal. Gurgle, gurgle.

Reminder: Check out my brother Jim's "Lifespan - A Resource- and Energy-Efficient Multi-use Bridge Concept."

You can read and vote for the idea by clicking on the following link: http://www.change.org/ideas/view/lifespan_-_a_resource-_and_energy-efficient_multi-use_bridge_concept

You will have to register to vote. Thanks.

Please Vote for Jim's Lifespan: He's My Brother

The election is long past, but I'm politicking this morning. My brother Jim, the architect, has a good idea, and he'd like to make the top ten list with his idea. If he does, it will get consideration from the new Obama administration.

I ask you to put your politics aside and think about the possibilities of Jim's concept and, of course, how nice it would be if you knew someone who knew someone whose idea could make a difference in the way we live in this ol' world of ours.

I watched Jim's 10-minute video outlining his bridge project the other night during a family gathering; that was the night we did not play Cranium. Heck, we didn't need the game after seeing what came out of my little brother's cranium. He's pretty smart. He's artistic, he's scientific and he comes up with some pretty neat ideas.

He's been fine tuning this project for a couple of years, and when he heard the incoming Obama administration had asked for contributors, Jim was glad to send his project for consideration.

So, thanks in advance for reading his note posted below, and many, many thanks in advance for passing the word to everyone you know who might think he's on to something. And, of course, encourage them to pass it on too. Even if you choose not to vote, I think you'll be amazed at his talent.

A vote for Jim's Lifespan could bring forth some exciting possibilities for populated areas in this world, so check it out. Jim's note follows.

Hey,

I wanted to see if I could get your quick help.

I'm not sure if you've heard, but there's a movement of citizens inspired by the presidential campaign who are now submitting ideas for how they think the Obama Administration should change America. It's called "Ideas for Change in America."

I've submitted an idea and wanted to see if you could quickly vote for it. The title is: Lifespan - A Resource- and Energy-Efficient Multi-use Bridge Concept.

You can read and vote for the idea by clicking on the following link: http://www.change.org/ideas/view/lifespan_-_a_resource-_and_energy-efficient_multi-use_bridge_concept

The top 10 ideas are going to be presented to the Obama Administration on Inauguration Day and will be supported by a national lobbying campaign run by Change.org, MySpace, and more than a dozen leading nonprofits after the Inauguration.

So each idea has a real chance at becoming policy.

Thanks for the support,

James Tibbs
P.S. Click the box next to the title. You have to "register" to vote for it to count.

DICKS and new AdDICKshun

I was already brimming over with stuff to say about Dicks. Then, I discovered a DICKS association with another subject which has ben dominating my Internet time of late. The discovery happened this morning.

I was sitting at the computer surfing through Facebook, getting to know the site possibilities better. I clicked on "Groups." I could not believe my eyes.

A group for fans of DICKS Hamburgers.

I clicked "DICKS."

I was thrilled to discover that DICKS has a whole passel of friends---friends who love the Whammy and the fresh French fries.

I ate a Whammy just last night. Bill gave me a choice. I could have the buck fifty Polish sausage with a drink at Coeur d'Alene's Costco or wait until DICKS.

That would be AFTER we dropped Annie off at the airport. Bill had dined at DICKS last Tuesday night BEFORE he picked up Annie at the airport.

Last night, I was nice enough to spend a buck fifty or so on Annie at the convenience store near Fairchild Air Force Base. She bought her jerky, cookies and drink for her airline trip to Seattle. We dropped her off, and the excitement built as we drove over the black ice headed for downtown and DICKS.

Bill was careful to find a good parking spot up near the ordering crowd so I could people watch while he stood in line for our order. We still wonder what ever happened to Vinny who used to stand at the window, count his coins and talk to the DICKS help. We haven't seen him for a couple of years.

But we still see a pretty good cross section of society pull up or walk up for their 87-cent hamburger or their fish and chips. Bill told me my bagful of WHAMMY and fresh French fries cost less than that Costco Polish sausage, so I felt like I'd made a good choice---especially in these tough times.

It was a great dining experience. Bill shared his fish-and-chips tartar sauce with me for my fries and described the DICKS French fry operation down at the end on the other side. He says you see the actual potatoes and just seconds later--hot, salty fries.

Bill remarked that the crowd was a little sparser than usual. Still, we watched people lean on the counter and read the literature piled up next to the order windows. We also watched a couple who never ordered anything. They came to smooch. First, they smooched outside their SUV; then, they got inside and smooched.

I've read on the DICKS fan club site, which I joined on Facebook, that DICKS was a high school hangout with as many bagfulls of memories as hamburgers sold over the years.

A few years ago, I also visited with a former student and 4-H'er who told me that she and her hubby had their first date at DICKS. Must be the Whammy's include the aroma of romance.

I was thinking all the way home how much fun it would be to write about DICKS on my blog today, and then to discover the fan club on Facebook---that was almost too good to be true.

Now, I've gotta talk about this Facebook adDICKshun. I never dreamed of doing much more than just sign up, put a picture of my book on my profile and then hope some strangers would come along and maybe buy a book.

I had just a few Facebook friends for several weeks and hardly ever visited the site. Then, one day I opened my Gmail account, and there was Betsy Walker, my long lost teaching friend, who lives about three miles from me out here in Selle.

She seemed excited to see me---oops---my book cover, and she invited me to be her friend. So, now I have the honor of being Betsy's chosen friend twice in my life----once in real life, now in virtual life. Betsy and I seldom see each other here in the neighborhood, but we've been talking up a storm since she invited me to be her friend.

And, she suggested some other friends I might like to have, including our mutual friend Dana Curtis---from back in the good ol' days when we used to go to Betsy's house---a bunch of us SHS teachers----and play dress-up. There was usually a little wine to go along with the fun.

Anyway, once Betsy asked me to be friends, I'd open up my Gmail account every morning and find three or four new people wanting to be friends. It was just like Christmas!

I've been slowly but surely getting to know Facebook. I read about it in a newspaper column the other day. The writer suggested that some people may embellish their life activities, just to keep up with the crowd. You see Facebook invites you to fill in the blank every time you check in: Marianne is . . . .

Like the columnist, I started thinking my activities were sounding pretty mundane, so I've been trying to spice them up a bit. This morning's most recent addition for all the voyeurs out there, who are SURELY interested in every breath I take and every Whammy I gobble down at DICKS, now know there are moose tracks in the Lovestead driveway.

I'll have to go check in to the site again, though, because as yet another round of heavy snow begins to fall from the sky, I probably won't be able to find those moose tracks.

I'll have to replace that report with: Marianne is watching Mother Nature pee in the cold again.

Ah, the Whammy's of DICKS and, ah, the possibilities of new friends every time I open my email. Life doesn't get any better than that!

A slight bend in the road

Today signals a marked change in the routine we've been experiencing for the past couple of weeks. Reflection replaces anticipation. Wet replaces fluff. Balmy replaces frigid. High stress gives way to a little more relaxation. Some of the folks we couldn't wait to see are headed home.

Beginning today, the Christmas holiday season moves on with a few low-key visits in store, but also with the annual quiet time where it's apparent people are doing their thing, whether it be skiing/boarding, reading, working on a jigsaw puzzle, clutter removal or other small projects that often sit and wait for months before time allows their attention.

The hubbub has all but ended.

In spite of disappointment that our Willie, Debbie and the grandpuppies could not come, I have really enjoyed the past few days. They've been filled with back-breaking work with a shovel, worry about animals getting caught underneath sliding snow, piling in the car to go to the movie or to Christmas dinner, to visit with friends, or to head over to Colburn several times for the family doings. We've also enjoyed our share of nice visits with friends and family here at the Lovestead.

In between all the socializing, we've been literally keeping the home fire burning and the animals fed and safe. Annie Love has worked up a sweat operating the snowblower. Only problem was one time we didn't even notice all the work she'd done clearing out the driveway while we were in town. The intense snow dump yesterday covered up most of her work before we arrived home to appreciate it.

Annie goes back to Seattle this evening. My brother Jim has a long day ahead, driving back to Grants Pass, and my niece Laura (Happy Birthday, Laura) and her family head back to Plummer. My older brother Mike and his wife arrived safely Friday night for a few days of visiting.

I love the time after Christmas because the days are getting longer, ever so slowly, the new year is coming and visions of gardening, new projects and new goals begin swirling in my mind. It's a time for getting organized or at least plotting how things are gonna happen once this winter gets over.

There's frustration, however, especially for impatient souls like me. I always figure that when Christmas stuff ends, so should the snow. Mother Nature has different ideas. I don't know how many times I heard people utter during yesterday's never-ending snow dump, "And, this is only Dec. 27," but I heard it often.

Our minds don't want to stay in synch with the calendar, which reminds us that winter just began seven days ago. Our minds don't want to think about the fact that the calendar dictates winter for at least three more months. Our minds don't even want to go there when someone pipes up, "Remember, it lasted until June this past year."

We have to deal with that reality over the next several weeks and doing so is the TOUGHEST challenge most people face at this time of the year. It's a long, long time until all those mind swirls can be acted out and put into reality.

Mental toughness is an asset in North Idaho as is a sense of humor. Both will be getting their annual overtime workout as we face the long winter months ahead. For now, the day-to-day happenings of a Christmas season winding down will keep us from worrying about boredom.

Happy Sunday and safe travels for everyone who sets off on their way home today.

Saturday Hooooooooooot, Maybe . . . .

There's a lot we don't know this morning. First, we don't know if we'll make it to the planned breakfast meeting with Carson and Karen at the Hoot Owl Restaurant. It's supposed to happen at 9:30, which was a good snap decision.

When Carson called yesterday and talked to Bill, we had company. So, Bill wondered if we could plan to go to the Hoot Owl at 8 this morning. I fended that one off, knowing it would mean getting up extra early to take care of the morning chores. So, I suggested 9:30 instead.

Now, it's a toss-up if we'll get cleaned out soon enough to make it to the Hoot Owl in less than two hours. That's all because the snow continues to fall and the snow continues to pile up.

I shoveled about 7 inches worth to form a pathway to the barn this morning. It's heavier than what we've been getting the past two weeks. When you can hear the flakes fall, you know it's heavier. And, the shoveling lets you know. We're running out of places to pile it in some areas, especially right around the barn where the openings have been shoveled rather than plowed.

The horses stay inside today. I can imagine how heavy those blankets could get with this stuff falling on them all day long.

There's no sign of let up, and we don't know if any of the roads have been plowed, although us 4-wheel drive folks don't usually worry about that too much. The papers made it here, so the roads can't be too bad.

Carson and Karen are up from Sacramento to visit Carson's mom and dad. They adopted Bill and me a few years ago when Karen stayed overnight with us while Carson joined Willie and attended a bachelor bash for for their fellow basketball teammate who was getting married the next day----at the then Hidden Lakes Golf Course Club House (burned down last week).

Karen teaches, while Carson takes care of fish in the Sacramento area.

********

On another topic, one of my brothers took off from Tacoma yesterday afternoon, bound for Sandpoint. We haven't talked to anyone to learn how their trip was, but we did look at the weather maps and hoped that they arrived safely.

********

Yesterday was a GOOD FRY DAY for us. Our friend Jeannie fried up a batch of her fry bread and brought it out to us. We had a good visit, as did Annie with her friend Jenessa, who works at a Boise TV station.

There was talk about the Seattle Sounders soccer team, which plays its first-ever game on March 19. Jeannie's hoping her son Chase will be on the team when Willie, Debbie and Annie attend the opener. We'll all know his fate just after the Super Bowl when a one-hour reality TV show features the final try-outs and the lucky player chosen for the new Major League Soccer team. We're all keeping our fingers crossed for Chase.

********

My sisters, my brother Jim and the Love trio attended Valkyrie last night. I have to admit it was a big mistake for me. Put me in a movie theater and separate me from Annie who usually pokes me every ten minutes and says, "Are you awake, Mom?" and it's a waste of time for me to show up.

Annie sat in the row behind Barbara, Laurie and me, and she was too far away to see me nodding off in the dark. Barbara chose to ignore her snoozing big sister. So, my memories of the movie are----a lot of German soldiers, scurrying around, staring at each other or answering a lot of telephones, a poignant good bye kiss, and horrible executions at the end when the 15th attempted plot to kill Adolf Hitler did not work.

Add to that a body which turned rigid from a cold theater. Still, it was fun to go to the movie with the family. I'm always better off watching the DVD in the comfort of my living room cuz after about the third viewing, I've seen the whole movie.

The holidays continue with lots of reconnections with family and good friends. With luck, we'll make it down there to the Hoot Owl, home of the best, cheapest breakfast in North Idaho, we'll get caught up with Carson and Karen, and later, we'll see the Tacoma travelers and Laura and the gang from Plummer.

Meanwhile, the snow is doing what this year's and last year's snow has done very well---fallying down and piling up almost nonstop.

Happy Saturday.

Only 364 shopping days 'til Christmas

It's a vow made every year. Next year I'm not going to wait until the last minute to do all my Christmas shopping. It's a resolution broken every year for many.

I always think about how nice it would be to buy those cards, the gift wrap and scotch tape essentials just after Christmas when they're half price or to get that extra set of lights so that one year out of our family celebration, the Lovestead Christmas tree won't look like a half breed.

The other day, after one of the two strings of old lights burned out, I vowed to stop somewhere in town and purchase another string---one that looked similar to the old one still attached to the top half of the tree. In fact, that was my very reason for heading to town, knowing I could take care of a few other errands.

As I prepared to back out of the driveway, my cell phone rang. It was Willie. He was still in Seattle the morning after his flight was supposed to take him and Debbie back to Boise, after which they would pick up their pups and drive up to Sandpoint.

He had just learned that the first available flight back to Boise, for anyone whose flight had been cancelled due to weather, would be Dec. 24---one seat.

Well, since it didn't seem reasonable for them to draw straws, Willie and Debbie stayed put in Seattle with friends from Boise. They would ride with the friends who planned to drive home the next day. That meant their trip to Sandpoint wasn't gonna happen, since Willie has to be in Boise today to cover activities associated with the Humanitarian Bowl.

We both lamented the unforeseen developments, but we also remained realistic that best laid plans of mice and lots of relatives in lots of families everywhere had to change, thanks to continued winter-weather problems. I eventually said "good bye" to Willie and as I got closer to town, decided NOT to buy that extra string of lights for the bottom of the tree.

This could be my silent protest against my maternal plans of seeing all kids and grandpuppies going down the tubes. So, I completed my other rounds and then came home.

The next day I reconsidered cuz, after all, Annie would be coming and I reasoned that she didn't deserve to suffer the half-lit tree blues just cuz Mom was sad and mad about Willie, Debbie, Todd and Brooke not coming.

Instead of going to town, I removed a string of twinkle lights from the dog kennel outside. We had run out of extension cords, so those light mixture.

Still, I know that I would be smart to go to town today or tomorrow and begin my Christmas shopping for 2009. I'm aware that Christmas lights might be cheap for the next few days, but right now shopping is NOT one of my priorities.

And, knowing myself all too well, it's very possible I could be digging through bags long about Dec. 15 next year and lamenting one more year of failing to replace the Christmas tree lights.

Such are the problems associated with Christmas, BUT---lights aside, ours was a lovely day. We took our time yesterday morning getting ready to open presents. Bill and I watched part of the Mass from the National Cathedral while Annie still slept with those sugar plums. I fed the horses a nice Christmas breakfast.

When Annie arose, an idea popped into my still sad mind. One way to at least connect Willie and Debbie to our circle would be to send them some of their gifts-----via cyberspace. I grabbed a white sheet, draped it over the couch and used it for a backdrop for several photos. The gifts photographed were those yet unwrapped.

Before we opened any presents here, Annie called Willie and left a message to go on line and "check your email. You can see some of your presents."

We all loved our gifts as Santa Annie distributed them one by one. Later, we spent time outside with the animals. Annie snowshoed through the woods and snapped lots of fun photos of dogs, trees and horses. Note the Flicker link at the bottom.

Later, we met Mother, Jim Barbara, and Laurie at the Beach House Restaurant, where Lindsay Yaw and her mom directed the operations at our table, seeing that we enjoyed a wonderful Christmas feast. Thanks, Lindsay! It was great to meet you, please give all your staff a big pat on the back.

The evening was topped off by a round of "Cranium," which involves teamwork, artistry, musical talent(?), knowledge of language, general knowledge and knowledge of songs most of us have never heard of.

Best of all, players get to act really crazy. How many out there can team up and spell "calculus" backward? Seems easy unless ya've got two so-so spellers and one good speller each supplying the letters.

All in all, it was a great Christmas, and we'd be smart to start getting ready for next year with all those bargains at the stores. But I think we'll forego that cuz we have a lot of snow for playing outside and a lot of high calorie food inside, giving us reason to play outside. Plus, company's coming.

Since we have 364 days to get ready, I think we can afford to take time to enjoy the truly meaningful aspects of this holiday----family, friends and simple fun. The lights can wait.

Happy Day After!

Annie's Photo Flicker link: http://www.flickr.com/photos/nnlove/sets/72157611662371692/

Merry Christmas

A Lovestead Christmas message . . . .

Greetings to friends and family from the Lovestead in North Idaho’s Selle Valley.

We hope this holiday season finds you staying above water, counting blessings and filled with hope that our national and world scene will improve. It’s been a tough year for everyone---family and friend losses, financial losses, employment losses, and, in some cases, home losses.

Hardly a situation to fill one’s heart with much “Ho, Ho, Ho.” Nonetheless, I’m sure we’ve all observed many, many reasons to be joyful in spite of the various challenges we face. In the midst of these personal calamities, we still witness ongoing acts of kindness, caring, thoughtfulness, generosity, and love, and for that we can feel a sense of gratitude. While supporting/applauding the efforts of those we love, those we know and even those we know only through images on TV or in the newspaper---we experience countless moments of exhilaration and joy.

Also, in spite of how we may neglect it at times, our planet Earth still reaps endless moments of appreciation within our souls, through magnificent sights, sounds and the sheer beauty of living things. Thankfully, all of the above remain invaluable and abundant in helping us sustain ourselves when times get tough. Our Love family enjoyed many moments of simple but meaningful sustenance this past year.

For Annie, a highlight was that last step up the mountain---Rainier, that is. After six months of training and general preparation, she summited Mount Rainier with a guided group of climbers around 6 a.m., Friday, July 25. The moment provided a lifetime thrill for Annie and especially for all who made the journey vicariously through her wonderful photographic and written documentation. Of course, when Mom and Dad Love saw the picture of the snowball she threw to us from the top, we were especially moved.

For Willie, one of his key moments honored his grandmother. He knows how much Grandma Tibbs loves the Gonzaga Bulldogs. Willie covered an event in Boise this summer recognizing Gonzaga coach Mark Few and his wife for their extensive humanitarian activities. A moment came when Willie could approach the coach, tell him about his grandmother’s love for the Zags and ask for a personal autograph. That moment has been reflected many times over as Grandma Tibbs shows off her framed Mark Few autograph to everyone entering her home.

For Debbie, a two-week trip to Ecuador and the Amazon jungle with a group of Girl Scouts left a lasting impact on the group of travelers and especially on all whom they visited within the country while volunteering in villages and immersing themselves in the culture. Both Willie and Debbie have also experienced many happy moments with Todd and Brooke, their Border Collies, whom we call the grandpuppies. The Boise Loves and their two dogs spent nearly a week in July with the Sandpoint Loves and their three dogs. A good time was had by all---dogs and humans. At this writing, Brooke is struggling with a case of juvenile cellulits/strangles, and we’re all keeping her in our prayers.

For Bill, memorable moments included conquering a few more peaks in the Selkirk Mountains, stashing and finding more geocaches, and researching more Humbird Lumber Co. history, including some old logging campsites. Oh yeah, he also brought home a rooster pheasant the day he and his forester buddy T.J. and T.J.’s dog Hildy roamed the grain fields near the Canadian border in search of birds. Through all seasons, Bill thrives on the peaceful, quiet work within his forest while dogs, always accompanying him, stare hopefully at noisy squirrels perched in limbs far above their reach.

My moments of joy came through my gardening and with goals set for horses. After a tough, long winter, my gardens and fruit trees yielded abundantly. In late spring, my horses went to school and then moved on to show rings where their education and beauty netted several thrilling moments in the winners’ circle. As always, daily joys on this lovely farm, with all its fun challenges, still cause me to pinch myself. And, of course, all who visited us at the Lovestead this past year added to our precious memories book.

Many of our most cherished moments of 2008 did not cost a cent---well, except maybe for all that gas---but their impact on us is invaluable and everlasting. As we struggle at times in the future, may we all be uplifted by the “little things” and unique moments that remind us that God’s grace always continues to brighten the darkness, and that all living things serve as instruments of his love. Merry Christmas, and may you have some wonderful “Ho, Ho, Ho” moments in 2009.

The Love Family

Bill, Marianne, Willie, Debbie, Annie, Lily, Lefty, Heather, Annie Dog, Kiwi, Kea, Todd, Brooke, Festus, Fuzzy Wuzzy, Licker, Lonesome Love and a whole lot of birds.

A visit to Great-Grandma's house

Young ladies from Wyoming and their daddy made a visit to Grandma Tibbs' home yesterday. Miss Aggie (4) and Miss Betsy (1 on Dec. 27) spent a few hours, decorating Grandma's tree, visiting horses--both real and stickie, eating cookies, watching Sponge Bob, eating pizza and charming the socks off from their hosts.

A good time was had by all who had the opportunity to meet and greet and hug and snap pictures of these adorable little girls.

Grandma Tibbs especially enjoyed their visit. Can you tell?

Half Light, et. al.

Well, so far with all the storm stuff---how long have we been at this now; could it be 10 days?---we happily report few catastrophes. With vehicles housed in the new building, Bill has been able to drive the tractor out the door and get right at the plowing. I've been able to take the 4-wheeler out the door and down the lane for hay.

The Ritchie heated automatic waterers work---almost too much. Horses get warm noses when they drink, but they drink, and that was important yesterday because they stayed inside the barn all day while the wind whipped up continuously and furiously outside. I shoveled horse apples four times during the day and sat inside peeling orchard apples for cobblers during the rest of the day.

As the continuous storm surges on, Annie Dog has taken over the straw bed in the barn as her own. She likes it better than the couch and heater in the garage---probably cuz Lily's her horse, and Lily's stall is right next to the straw bed.

Doggies and kitties have done a lot of hunkering down, and humans have made necessary trips outside to do what needs to be done. It's hardly recreational going outside in this wind that continues to blow, although it's not blowing quite so briskly this morning as yesterday.

The biggest catastrophe to date has occurred inside the house on the Christmas tree. I was getting a lot of static last year about why I was still using those two strings of old, old Christmas lights on the tree.

"Time to get some new ones," they lectured, after noticing that I was using rubber bands to stick the lights to the limbs and also hoping that someone could find me some replacement bulbs for old-style Christmas tree lights in town.

Well, somehow when said Christmas tree decorator takes down the tree after all Christmas tree critiquers have left the scene by tree-removal day--either on or before Jan. 1---the last thought on said Christmas tree decorator's mind is to go buy a new set of lights for next-year's tree.

With needles all over the place and more needles sure to be all over the place after ornaments and lights have been ripped from the tree limbs, the immediate goal is to get all that stuff in a plastic bag, get that tree out of the house and get the vacuum cleaner to suck up all remnants of Christmas tree circa whatever year it happens to be.

So, this year when it came to decorating, I found the two plastic bags right where I put them---better luck than my initial search for all those outdoor lights. After plugging in the light strings and seeing that they do, indeed, work again this year, I found more rubber bands to secure more old bulbs with newly broken plastic clips to the limbs.

This year's plastic clip to rubber band ratio is about 35:65 percent, but you can't really see the rubber bands unless you're a Christmas tree critiquer, looking up close and personal at Mom's annual patch-it-together efforts.

I've been fortunate for the past few days because Bill thinks anything I do with the Christmas tree is beautiful. That's mainly cuz he doesn't have to do it and because the work and the cussing is all done while he's off at the office. So far, Bill and I and a few birdies at the feeder are the only living beings to witness the Lovestead's 2008 living room Christmas tree.

The crowd will come, though, and unless I do something fast, they're going to notice something odd about the one string of ancient lights with rubber bands on this year's semi Charlie Brown hemlock special. The other string was removed from the tree last night after it burned out. I checked it several times to see if it was just kinda tired or something, but it never came back to life.

So, this morning we have a half-lit Christmas tree, and I've already heard a lecture from a relative who hasn't even seen the tree.

"You still have those old lights," she said to me last night when I told her the string of lights had died. "When are you going to get some new, nice little lights?"

To which I told her that I was a little leery of removing the old lights cuz of the rubber bands and all the potential needle loss. I also told her to spread the word that if anyone entered my house and insulted my Christmas tree, it would be war. She promised me that she would spread the word. Good sister Laurie.

Later, I tried to put a string of outdoor twinkle lights----removed from the chain link fence around the dog kennel in the midst of the blizzard---on the tree over the top of the bad lights. It looked just as ugly as you can imagine. So, I removed that along with several hundred needles and walked away from the disaster.

Later after calming down, I came back, determined. Carefully pulling on individual rubber bands, I slowly removed the dead string of lights. It was at the bottom of the tree. My next plan was to get a night's sleep and think about the next move in the morning with a fresh perspective.

When I came to the living room this morning, I saw that Bill had plugged in the lights. And, Bill usually doesn't plug in the Christmas lights. He's usually following me around, unplugging them.

I commented on the half-lit tree, and, the ever-positive Bill launched into a commentary on why the tree was pretty: that its absence from the forest had opened the way for a healthier forest which means a healthier treasury for the state's forest funding, which means more money for the schools and with more money for the schools, Idaho should have smarter kids---all because we removed skinny Hemlock from the grove.

That made me feel better because, of course, I believe in schools and smarter kids, and if our ugly tree leaving the forest contributes to the coffers, we have done a good thing. And, my sister who knows not to say anything bad about Marianne's tree is a teacher, so that's all the more reason she'll keep her mouth shut.

But then, there are the other Christmas tree critiquers who will be arriving---if they ever get out of Seattle, which is appearing doubtful cuz I heard this morning on K102.5 that if travelers wanted to fly home from Seattle, they would be smart to come to Spokane to get on a plane, when and if a plane becomes available----anyway, if they ever make it home, they may be tempted to say something about my tree.

So, I might make a trip to Home Depot today and see if there's anything down there that resembles my one old string of Christmas lights. If I find it, I'll bring it home, carefully attach it to the bottom of the tree, plug it it, rejoice at once again having a fully-lit Christmas tree, and, surely, the critiquers will never know the difference.

Unless they're stuck in Seattle with nothing to do and happen to be reading this blog, of course!

Winter of Discontent

Kiwi and Kea brave the storm at 8:20 a.m., first day of winter, 2008.

Well, the calendar is accurate today. It's winter.

It's the shortest day of the year, so that's good news. We start building back the daylight from this day forth.

Today's daylight is a bit hard to see. Snow is blowing, winds are gusting, and, baby, it's cold outside.

The passes are closed. I don't know when or if we'll get to see Willie and Debbie, who are in Seattle.

The three kids attended the Battle in Seattle at Key Arena yesterday. The outcome was the one sad Dec. 20 event for this year, and if that's as bad as it gets, we'll take it. The Zags put up a battle as did the UConn Huskies. I think all who watched got their money's worth of phenomenal college basketball action. Someone had to win, and the Huskies did it in overtime.

We had a calm, cold beautiful day yesterday. We spent most of it in the house, doing Christmas projects, munching, baking and watching the big game. You can guess who did what among the two of us. Bill went to town and brought back supplies.

Anyway, it's winter. All plans are in upheaval cuz we don't know what new hands Mother Nature is going to deal us.

So, we'll do what comes naturally---put one foot in front of the other, watch after all the critters, make sure the water's dripping from the faucets and keep the home fire burning---in the stove, that is.

All was calm. All was bright. Yesterday, that is.

Today: Oh, the weather outside if frightful . . . .

Saturday sLIGHT

Well, I decorated the tree yesterday afternoon. Bill was right when he commented about Hemlocks losing their needles. I vacuumed up a substantial layer of small branches and needles after finishing the decorating.

Still, this morning the tree is not naked, so if we treat it right, maybe most of those pretty needles will remain through Christmas.

The tree needed a little help in the "shapely" department, a snip here, another over there.

Daylight background reveals that it's not exactly White House or Rockefeller Center material, but we like it. We can admire its holiday magic and still see the beautiful outdoor background between the limbs. That treat has not been possible with our more bushy trees the past couple of years.

I put the angel that Bill's mother Ora gave us a long time ago on the top. I don't know how long she sat on the top of Louisiana Love Christmas trees, but she's doing for us like many of the Christmas decorations do for everyone each year: connecting family to the past and remembering folks no longer here to celebrate the season.

This Dec. 20 is a significant day in our family. Every year I'm always glad when it has ended---safely for all we know and love.

As I mentioned yesterday, this is the 24th anniversary of the day we watched our house burn down. As I read the front page of today's paper, detailing all the disasters, including two devastating fires--one the Idaho Club Lodge, the other a home north of Sandpoint--memories of our own catastrophe were all the more vivid.

Knowing the community, however, the hands of generosity will be busy. An understatement!

Since our fire, this day continues to make me nervous. Five years ago today, Willie rolled his grandfather's pickup after driving it for less than two miles. It was just a month after Harold had died. Willie and his grandmother worked out a deal for him to purchase the pickup, which needed snow tires.

With his dad a couple of minutes behind him, Willie headed to town and Les Schwab Tire Co. to get the tires. It was snowing and slick. Bill came along just south of Selle Road to find a smashed canopy on the highway but no pickup. He looked to the right and saw Willie climbing up the hillside from the pickup. The S10 was totaled. Willie was shaken, as were we all.

We were so thankful, however, that he was not hurt. The day did get better, however. We later drove into Spokane and picked up Annie at the airport upon her return from six months in New Zealand.

In closing, my message to all family and friends: please be careful today and make it a "good news" day.

And, to Coach Mark Few and his cagers: GO ZAGS! BEAT UCONN!

Somebody gave us this Christmas ornament because if we had one for 1979, it burned in our house fire on Dec. 20, 1984. So, whoever you were, your gesture and all the other communitywide generosity are remembered each year when I decorate the tree.

Early-morning cold scene

Let it snow. The buildings should stay standing this winter.

A Community's Loss

So picturesque, so appropriate for its setting along Pack River, so elegant: an icon is gone, burned to the ground.

I went to the Idaho Club website to add to my own mental vision of how beautiful and grand this structure was. I'm sure I've got pictures of this magnificent log building stuffed away among my collection.

There would be photos of friends, taken during lunch get togethers in the room near the fireplace. I think we did dine in the huge, elegant dining room once.

My teacher friends, my friend Margarete, my mother and sister-in-law Joyce, my sister-in-law Margaret---so many times we met for lunch at what was then called Hidden Lakes Lodge.

I was remembering another few days spent at the lodge this morning. In one case, I was tracking down Ken Parker, then one of the golf pros at Hidden Lakes. I was doing a story for Sandpoint Magazine and feeling a little out of place, cuz, after all, I was a lousy golfer at best. I had golf Hidden Lakes with Bill once, maybe nine holes.

I also remember teaming up with Sean Garvey and Ted Strohmaier (both phenomenal at the sport). That was our 30th-year Sandpoint High class reunion in 1995, and that was before the beautiful lodge. We all met in the morning and reconnected at the end of the day in the old lodge, sort of a modular-style home sitting on a hillside on the west end of the golf course.

Well, later when I went to interview Ken, his office was in that new 30,000 square foot, $6.5 million dollar talk of the town, built by head contractor and everybody's Sandpoint favorite, Skip Pucci. Ken was so nice to me that I totally forgot about being a lousy golfer. He generously gave of his time and his thoughts, as did Mike DePrez and Jaime Packer, the other pros at the time.

Like the lodge, Jaime is tragically no longer with us. One of the nicest young men I've ever met died on his way to a golf match with friends in Kalispell. It was a car-deer encounter. The town mourned Jaime's death because Jaime had touched so many in this community with his down-to-earth friendliness, sense of humor and expertise. I really liked Jaime for one other reason: he was a south paw. Our kind stick together.

The community will be mourning again today as the news circulates to whoever did not hear it last night or see the photos for the flames leaping in the air. Hidden Lakes eventually gave way to a new concept and a re-constructed golf course, designed by none other than Jack Nicklaus. Upscale golf facility and living community would be an understatement for the development that has gone on out there.

The locals have indicated a frustration with its priciness, but the community has embraced the Idaho Club as have numerous folks from around the country who love the concept and who have purchased property for some rather nice second or third homes.

Change has come to this lovely golf resort in the Pack River Delta which opens into Lake Pend Oreille. I was disappointed one day last spring when I decided to drive through the golf course area to see the new homes.

Entering from the highway, I encountered a nice gate keeper who said it would not be possible for me to pass on through. I said thank you, turned around and headed back to Sandpoint, feeling a bit sad about one more sign of the outside moving in and bringing with it a sense of exclusion.

Still, the memories of good times spent at Hidden Lakes, either dining or doing my journalistic work will linger.

This morning I sent a note to Mike and Monica Flaim (http://www.flaimlife.com/) who now live in The Netherlands. I wrote to them because they were one of my memories. As I continued to interview and snap photos for my story that spring, Mike and Monica happened to be at the Lodge. I think it was Spring Break, and Mike had gone golfing. Monica had accompanied him.

They had come back to the Lodge for lunch. We shared a lot of laughs and maybe even a glass of wine or beer. I think if Mike and Monica dig through their collection, I also snapped a few photos of them at their table.

It was just one of the many times it felt good to be in that grand atmosphere of that gorgeous building. My longtime friend Bobbie Huguenin sent out a note last night with reports that only the chimneys remain. After all, when that much wood catches fire, we all know there's not much any amount of water from fire hoses can do to stop it.

Another friend, Sue Brooks, wrote that she had attended a Community Assistance League luncheon there on Wednesday.

"Who would have thought it would be the last event there?" she said.

Having had a house burn down 24 years ago tomorrow, I can identify with the deep sense of loss and emptiness that must be felt this morning by all who are closely associated with the Lodge. It's all-consuming and wearisome, to say the least.

The owners have expressed an upbeat attitude in this morning's news stories for replacing the building as quickly as possible, enhancing it even more than what the photo shows.

The new building will signal a brand new chapter in the area around the Pack River Delta. For now, the community will mourn an icon which served as the center for wonderful and beautiful memories, cherished by many of us locals who spent happy times there.

A Tale of Two Days

It was the worst of days. It was the best of days. It was a day of darkness, light, hope, and danger.

It was a day when fear lost out to confidence---in more ways than one.

The U.S. Forest Service defensive driving school got me where I needed to be, both at The Coeur d'Alene Hotel by 10 a.m. and home safely by 4:30 p.m. I've mentioned that defensive driving school in my second book while recounting the story "To ASS-U-ME It's a Wolf."

Defensive driving school back in the early 1970s got my dear friend Chris Moon and me, then survey aides for the F.S. Engineers, to many a dangerous destination within the massive road network of the national forests of Eastern Washington, North Idaho and Western Montana.

We learned not to ASS-U-ME that the narrow, winding logging roads were safe for one moment. We learned to go slowly and to listen out our side windows before rounding a curve with a rock hillside on one side and a deep valley filled with sharp tree tops a long ways down on the other. We listened to make sure that we could not hear a big ol' logging truck rumbling its way off the mountain with a full load, freshly cut from some timber sale.

We learned all the nuances for meeting traffic along the remote roads, for changing tires, for keeping our "vehicle" maintained, and for just plain looking out for the other guy or critter that might just upset the apple cart---or should I say the "rig," as we called it.

While drivng to and from Coeur d'Alene yesterday (both trips taking a few minutes shy of two hours to cover the 45 miles), I could think of only two other times I'd been so fearful of the possibilities of meeting my maker. And I drove defensively every moment.

One instance was several years ago when our journalism students traveled to their national convention in Long Beach. My colleagues, Jack Dyck and Mona Stafford, my husband Bill and I each took responsibility for seven young lives in our respective vans as we zipped down the Los Angeles freeway. It was night and the first time ever for Bill and me to take that route as we left the airport.

No defensive driving school ever prepared me for such a challenge; only the nuns from IHM academy who taught us our "Hail Mary's" and several packs of Juicy Fruit gum for chomping helped me survive every time I got behind the wheel on that trip. My fingers remained in the same arthritic-like curvature for days afterward, and it's amazing the steering wheel stayed attached to the van after dealing with my vise-tight grips.

In the other scary episode, defensive driving techniques were trumped by pure hypnotism. That occurred last this past March, when the most blinding, mesmerizing, unrelenting snow storm kept me in total fear all the way from Spokane Airport where I had picked up Annie late at night. That experience offered no respite from total fear until we finally hit the north end of Sandpoint.

Yesterday offered plenty of reasons to get the heeby jeebies. "Hazardous" is hardly a strong enough adjective to describe a situation with blinding, blowing snow, falling on top of ridges of ice, deceptive clear pavement which is really sneaky black ice, wind shield wipers caked with melting ice, forming constant ripples of moisture across the window.

Let's see, is there anything more besides the fact that Old Lead Foot here seldom moved faster than 35 mph. Maybe I should mention all the flares or the jack-knifed semi or the constant sightings of Idaho State Police.

Anyway, it was a scary drive both ways, but I felt proud to have made it to both destinations safely, thanks to the defensive driving teachers of the '70s.

Maybe it was all the energy invested in my roadway fears that helped the other phobia dissipate. That would be the fear of speaking to all those ladies.

The drive could be the reason I lacked any more energy for being nervous, but I'm willing to bet my calmness had more to do with the audience and the warmth I felt from the minute I walked into the hotel where the book club was gathering.

I have Betty Cheeley, my hostess with the mostess, to thank. I have my former teaching colleague Florine and her friend Caroline to thank, and my former student Maggie and her sister Dee, whom I worked with for years, and my friend Ginny Jensen, mother of two former students, who promised to sit up front and smile.

I also appreciate all the others I met for the first time, who shared commonalities ranging from babysitting Jim Wilund to graduating the same year as I had from the University of Idaho. It was a room filled with a lot of teachers, and they had many wonderful tales to share as we laughed for nearly two hours.

And, my greatest thanks goes to the surprise introducer, Erica Curless. I was telling Bill this morning that Erica is one of a small number of former students with whom I share a striking kinship: our love of horses, Border Collies, cows, impishness, people, story telling and journalism.

It felt magic having Erica there yesterday as we bantered back and forth from beginning to end. I felt so proud of her and so proud to have her by my side.

My thanks to all, who attended the meeting and luncheon yesterday, for every kind gesture or comment that helped me forget the fear and get on with the fun.

It was the worst of days on the road but the best of days spent with the 3 C's Book Club.

Wednesday Jitters

The day has come. It's been nearly a year since Betty Cheeley called me up and asked me to speak about my book Lessons with Love to the 3 C's Book Club of Coeur d'Alene.

If all goes well, by shortly after 10 a.m., I'll be standing at the podium in one of the conference bays at The Coeur d'Alene Hotel. A potentially large number of women, many of them Coeur d'Alene's shakers and doers, will be sitting there looking back at me with expectations.

I anticipate several trips to the bathroom before that moment. And, Betty knows to plan her Oly and Lena joke to synchronize with the last time she sees me head off for the john.

It's what I do before speeches, and it never gets any better. Every time someone invites me to do a presentation, I ask two questions of them: is there a bathroom within a convenient distance of the podium, and, if I'm not in view when you start introducing me, just keep talking. I'll be there.

So far, I haven't been able to get out of any of these jobs because of my internal physical disability to keep my internal plumbing under control.

Usually after assuring me that all measures will be taken to assure my comfort, I hear a common comment: well, you don't seem like you're nervous. To which I say: outwardly, you're right, but inwardly, there's a war going on in there.

I've spent a lot of time preparing for this presentation, especially after Betty said she scheduled me for December as a "gift" for the group. No pressure!

Betty's a hard taskmaster too. She taught first grade for 40 years, and her simple answer to my comment about nervousness after seeing that room so filled with women during last month's meeting was "Get over it."

So, I'm working at that. Actually, the experience should be fun once I get started. It's the waiting that drives me nuts, and I'm really glad the day has come.

I'll be really glad if the roads with new coating of snow on ice allow me to get there on time, or even early, in one piece.

Today's speaking experience will be all the more special because I have a really special person following Betty to the podium to introduce me.

That person's identity will remain a secret until after my speech cuz I don't want to take a chance that anyone in the club reads my blog before going to the meeting.

Only hint: a former student of whom I'm very proud. That narrows it down, doesn't it?

I also practiced the speech with another former student who's laid-up with a broken leg. Fortunate for me, she couldn't get up and leave because of boredom, and she did laugh a time or two. That would be Jeralyn, who's known for a good belly laugh.

Jeralyn was a much better audience than my usual guinea pigs----oops, they aren't guinea pigs---they're horses. Yes, I have been known to practice my speeches in front of the horses, but they're so noncommittal that it's hard to get a read on how well I'm doing. The plus side is that they're also not judgmental in any way.

My overall goal today is to put on a good enough show that the ladies are glad they came out in the cold to attend.

The 3 C's are an amazing organization. They have other branches of interest besides their book club, and they raise a LOT of money in the Coeur d'Alene area for good causes, especially cancer-related.

To say I'm honored to be invited for this event today is an understatement. To say, I'm nervous is equally an understatement, but I plan to make it a fun for them and hopefully fun for myself.

When it's all over around noon, and I'm once more knowing the joy of cathartic relief, I'll wonder why I worried so much. It just goes with the territory of public speaking.

The Frigid Farm

I went around taking pictures of cold yesterday. After writing for the past few days about how cold it is, I hope the camera did the talking. We had wind chill cold yesterday, which closed schools, created artistic patterns in the snow and kept us busy keeping warm.

It's been drop-dead beautiful, but the temperatures have forced us to enjoy most of the outside beauty from inside the house. Nonetheless, a few minutes outside with the camera captured both the beauty and the COLD.

Enjoy, and if you're in a warm climate viewing this, I hope it serves as a bit of an air conditioner.

Santa wouldn't want to try our chimney.

Ice Roast

Forester Bill's wood pile

Can ya feel the COLD snow???

The old Ford got caught out in the snow.

This shoe was made for walking, and that's just what it did---on Miss Lily's foot from April 'til December. Now it waits for next spring when John will nail it back on one of her hooves.

Pretty Miss Heather and her

Cold Nose

Dear ol' Annie Dog catches a few Z's while I work in the barn.

The self-imposed work schedule runs from dawn 'til dusk for Kiwi and Kea. Doesn't matter how cold: a Border Collie's gotta do what a Border Collie's gotta do.

Meserve's beautiful trees make a nice north shelter for the horses in the barnyard: Lefty, Heather, Lily.