On Maintenance for Maui

I bought the new underwear yesterday---10 pair. I also bought some press-on toenails for sitting on the beach. There's the necessary bottle of Advil for the headaches, and I might even get a new pair of sunglasses, since my most recent pair has a smudge in the upper left corner of the left frame.

Those smudges can drive a person nuts in North Idaho sun; I can imagine how irritating they can be beneath the orb of Paradise.

My hairdresser told me to wait until the day before I leave to get my hair zapped, so I'll have a fresh do for the big adventure. I thought that was nice and wise of her.

Sorry to my dear friend Janis, I have been doing a little tanning at the tanning booth. After you insisted that I use enhancement lotion instead, I checked with my perpetually beautiful friend Kathy and asked her about the tanning situation.

She said she tans in the booths, and she said the tanning lotion would be good but to be careful around the rough patches of skin cuz if you're not careful during the application, you might end up with ugly stains in those spots. Knowing my track record in "if there's an ugly way to do it, Marianne can find it," I opted for the beds.

I've been using a pumpkin-flavored lotion while tanning at a nice place in Ponderay, owned by a former student Ben McCord. It's called Sunrise Tans, and Ben has been very nice to his old teacher. Since going there, I learned that my horseshoer, John Fuller and his wife Vickie, are regular customers of Sunrise Tans, so it's got to be okay.

Yup, there's a trip coming up, and I'll be spending the week getting the essentials in order. I announced to Bill yesterday that I had purchased new underwear.

"It's obligatory, ya know for trips," I said. "Didn't you buy new underwear when you went to Mt. St. Helens this summer?"

He nodded.

If I recall correctly, I may have purchased six pair before we went to Chicago in May. So, why did I need to buy ten more pair yesterday?

Well, underpants, like socks, have a habit of disappearing. In between washes, I'm usually can find four clean pair in the overstuffed sock, bra and panty drawer.

Since I'm going to be in Maui for a week, four pair won't pack it. Annie tells me the condo has a washer and dryer so there's really no earthly reason why I need to follow that policy. Nonetheless, I feel more comfortable knowing I have an ample supply of panties with no hole in the seat or ragged edges.

It might have something to do with that old saying, "If you're in an accident, make sure you have clean underwear." Somehow it's drilled into us by reminders from a young age, and it's also drilled into us by example. I can remember my mother, in preparation for a trip, always going to the store to get new underwear and maybe even a new bra.

A pressing question does come to mind about this phenomenon in life, "What if you don't go on very many trips?" Well, just imagine what that underwear must look like if it has to last ten years in between vacations.

In my case, since I've purchased 16 pair this year, so I should be good for a long, long time, maybe even the rest of my life. We'll see.

In the meantime, I do wonder about another aspect of going on trips. Why do we wait until vacations to do all that personal maintenance?

Why do we allow ourselves to be utter slobs in between jetting off to Paradise or heading for the Windy City? Who even gives a hoot when we're far, far from home?

In most cases, we're not going to see anyone we know, so why should our undergarments or our perfect toenails even matter? Tanning before going to the beach seems practical since I don't want to be a lobster from Day Two through Seven. And, having a new hair zap will be nice.

Still, it seems a little crazy that we go to all this work to go where nobody knows our name, our face or gives a rip about the status of our underwear. Shouldn't we care most about the opinions of those who care most about us, as opposed to perfect strangers?

I don't know the answer to this question, even though I do ponder it every time I prepare for a trip. I guess it's just one of those inexplicable aspects of being human and having a touch of vanity, or maybe it's just because going on a trip gives us an excuse to splurge on new panties.

Whatever the case, I'll be prepared while walking through Spokane Airport Thursday with a sense of supreme confidence, knowing that if I get in an accident on this trip, I'm wearing brand new, squeaky clean cotton briefs.

Sunday Stuff: Switching from Low to Overdrive

There's a Hallmark movie playing right now, so my ability to concentrate is limited, so I'll come back later and write my posting.

Two family members will leave later this morning on road trips home, and I don't want to miss the rest of our full-time family time in our full house.

So, check back.

~~~~~~

It's quiet. I have just completed the Lovestead "Amazing Race." The Lovestead version involves waiting for the last visitor to go out the door, leaving the starting blocks and vacuuming, washing, picking up, putting back, throwing away, etc. as quickly as possible.

The object is in this race around the house, up and down the stairs, inside and out, is to complete said tasks before the next person walks through the door. In this case, it will be either Bill or Willie.

Willie took off in his car, and Debbie took off in her car, loaded down with grandpuppies. They headed for the Hoot Owl for a good breakfast before Debbie's drive back to Boise. Bill was headed to church.

One other person left; that would be Annie, but like Debbie, she's not coming back today. She's taking the trip back across the state of Washington to Seattle.

Willie will either go to the school to get ready for the week ahead, or he'll come back home to do some of that. I can be certain that Bill will be back in about three hours.

Anyway, I put my body into overdrive, not knowing how soon someone would arrive back home to interrupt my speed-of-light house reclamation project. Overdrive worked cuz it's totally quiet, and I'm sitting up here at my computer.

Up until Annie's departure, we had spent most of the weekend in low gear, plopped on the couches/on each other, watching sporting events or Hallmark Channel movies. Annie brought a few rentals with her too.

We ate, we took pictures, played with doggies, we visited with all members of the family who came to the Colburn house, and we just enjoyed being a nice little Lovestead family. We also went to the Keokee book launch party for the lake book. It was well attended, with lots of folks on hand at Community Hall to get their copies.

I like the book, and I think it will be a popular one for a long, long time in this area. What geologic entity has attracted more people to this area than that lake? So, it's a winning formula to capture the sights, sounds and memories associated with the lake.

Speaking of which, Willie and Debbie will soon be living on the lake. They were fortunate to have someone who knew someone tell them about a nice house for reasonable rent. When Debbie comes up this way in a couple of weeks, they'll start the moving process. Of course, we plan to go visit them----often----and enjoy their drop-dead gorgeous view.

Besides switching from low gear to overdrive, I'm switching into a new mindset. Gotta get ready for one of the adventures of my life, which begins Thursday with a flight to Seattle and a Friday-morning take-off for Maui. Yes, I'm excited and downright giddy about the whole idea. Now, I can be giddy with Thanksgiving behind us.

So, this week will be spent tying up loose ends and making sure everything is in good order for Bill and Willie to keep the Lovestead menagerie and themselves all happy and satisfied. Lots to do, so I'll get back into overdrive and start on the next fun chapter of life. With luck, the blog will feature highlights each day.

Happy Sunday to all and safe driving back to destinations.

Saturday Slight

We're halfway through Thanksgiving weekend and still having fun. Today looks like a winner with a frosty chill in the air and a few dramatic scenes at Schweitzer where every so often the morning sun turns bright white ski runs hot pink. I'm guessing skiers and boarders are stoked today.

Down in the valley, we have no snow, and muddy areas of the past few days have frozen enough to allow the horses a slop-free trip to their morning hay piles.


Bill just sat down to read the paper, and Willie's finishing up on his grape nuts while grandpuppies are moving from human to human, begging for hand-outs of love. Debbie and Annie are still snoozing upstairs.

We had a busy day yesterday, visiting with family, enjoying some time outdoors as the rain clouds vanished and the sun returned. We're getting a bonus this year of bare ground and freedom to walk any ol' place we want. Winter snows kinda limit the walking areas, so we're not complaining.

Heck, I even saddled up Lily yesterday afternoon and took a little ride around the woods and down the road. John Fuller took her shoes off Wednesday, so Lily's feet were pretty tender on the road. While riding the trails through the woods just before dusk, we scared up a doe and young 'un in the southwest corner of the place. We think they've been hanging out there during the late fall.

Elton Anderson, who lives across Selle Road to our southwest just half a mile or so east of where he grew up, tells me that the deer usually hang around, maybe as long as Christmas. He figures they disappear for the winter when the ponds and creeks freeze. They winter near Sunnyside and the Pack River flats, which is a banana belt compared to our Selle snow belt.

Speaking of Sunnyside, the area along the north shore of Lake Pend Oreille, we're going to a fun event today. The book launch party for the new book pictured above is scheduled for this afternoon from 3-5 p.m. at Sandpoint Community Hall. So, we're planning to attend that event as a family.


Bill has seen the book at Sylvie's Map Store downtown, but I've yet to touch it. I drove lots of miles and spent lots of hours five years ago researching the history of settlement along the shores of Lake Pend Oreille for the book. Several sagas involving production of the book have happened since, so it's been a long time in the coming.


From what I've heard, it turned into a beautiful product, with contributions from several local writers and from Sandpoint artist Karen Robinson who provided the cover painting. I think there will a healthy sense of pride at this afternoon's event. Plus, maybe even a few books will sell.


Guess that's all for now on this Saturday of the big turkey weekend. If the second half of the four-day break goes as well as the first half, we'll have some wonderful memories to cherish.
And, for me personally, I'm looking ahead to this time next week when I'll be basking in the Maui sunshine.

Tough, I know, but someone's gotta do it. Happy Saturday to all.

For more info on the new book, you can visit http://www.keokeebooks.com/catalog.html

Thanksgiving scenes at the Lovestead

It may have been "Turkey Day" yesterday, but this proud bird of a different feather paid us a visit, sitting and surveying the scene for several minutes in a huge cottonwood tree at the northwest corner of the place.

Dogs played. Humans strolled the fields and forest, stopping several times to snap photos.

Bill showed off his baby trees.

Yaks came to see what the heck all the commotion was next door.

Mist turned to rain, but warmth and a relaxing calm kept us outside, enjoying family and all that makes our lives so special.

Twas a great day at the Lovestead.

Dogs on the run: Todd, Brooke, Kea and Kiwi

Tennis, anyone?

Lovestead Fashion Parade: Debbie and Annie

Neighborhood Yaks guarding their territory

Todd, Annie Love, Annie Dog and Willie Love

Everybody pose!

In the midst of flipping blueberry hotcakes, I'd like to wish everyone a happy, satisfying, fun-filled Thanksgiving with no squabbles, miserable stomachs or in-home catastrophes.

We give thanks today that our Lovestead family is all here, safe and sound, and that our ZAGS won their tournament in Maui.

Plus we feel great gratitude for all the blessings we enjoy every day in the form of friends, family, beautiful scenery, comfort, freedom---and no in-home MICE for nearly four days.

Happy Thanksgiving, 2009!

Let the feasting begin!

Of Apples and Cedar Posts

In the "not such a pretty cake department but how 'bout those canned goods," I just had to show of my apple products this morning. And, yes, those who read about the really ugly applesauce cake the other day, I must note that this one is an improved product, architecturally speaking.

I'm not so sure my architect brother would approve of the roof caving in over the infrastructure, but who cares? It's the taste that counts. A blind person would never know the difference nor care upon sampling a first bite. Many more would follow, I guarantee.

It's kinda hard to have ugly jelly, unless you had stuff floating around in it, and I'm pretty careful about that. Don't want it to look like a lab specimen.

My apples have been good to me this year, and I still want to make more applesauce so I can make more ugly but tasty cakes.

I love making the jelly and giving it away to visitors or folks who've done nice things for me.

The best part, as far as the horses are concerned, comes in the form of all those peelings they get every time the lady in the house tears into another batch of apples.

~~~~

Of course, I must mention the ZAGS this morning. They knocked off Wisconsin last night in the Maui tournament and will play for the championship tonight against Cincinnati. GO ZAGS (4-1) and getting better (ESPN - 7 p.m. PST)

~~~~~
May all Thanksgiving travelers have a safe trip to and from your holiday destinations.

In the "not a great photo" but a "great paper" department, I can't help but feature this shot of the most recent Sandpoint High School Cedar Post.

It came out yesterday, and I think it will be available at Babs and Second Avenue Pizza this weekend, as well as at the Mall.

The paper is looking good, and that comes from a hard-nosed former adviser who must forget her "motherly" connections when making such judgments. My assessment does not come lightly.

Years ago one of my students wrote a letter for me to go in the packet for a national award nomination for advisers.

It was eye-opening, to say the least, to learn how the students had perceived me as an adviser. The observation most poignant to me what they viewed as my ultimate stamp of approval: Good Job.

Until reading the letter, I had no idea how meaningful those two simple words could be to young, aspiring journalists.

After viewing three Cedar Posts this year, advised by my son, and produced by a staff of ever-improving students, I have two words to send their way: Good Job, Mr. Love, and Good Job, Cedar Posters.

You're keeping up the fine tradition and reputation the Cedar Post has enjoyed for several decades.

Keep up the good work!

Tuesday Twitterdeedum

I wasn't expecting slop this morning, but we have it. My arm sleeve is still wet from the big plop of wet snow that fell on me while I was up on the ladder, mopping off the satellite dish. That was two hours ago, so you can imagine the consistency of the precipitation.

It's warm outside, though, and maybe most of the slop will melt by afternoon. I can handle it because we have another ZAGS game this evening. Any day the ZAGS play is a good day.

They played yesterday in Maui (that's another reason I can stand the slop; they showed postcard-style photos of Maui during station breaks, and I'll be there late next week away from the slop). The ZAGS gave everyone their money's worth during their Maui Tournament opener against Colorado.

The Spokesman sportswriter nailed it this morning when he suggested that the game resembled last week's Michigan State-ZAGS game. Only in this case, the ZAGS spent the first half acting like Michigan State did when the ZAGS almost beat the No. 2-ranked Spartans.

"Shell-shocked" might be the term for describe the Bulldogs for most of the first half after losing the lead. Colorado beat up on them with 3-pointers, and the ZAGS beat up on themselves with turnover after turnover. They came alive during the second half of the second half, though, and turned the game into a nail-biting ZAG victory.

I think there was some tremendous coaching going on to secure that victory. The ZAGS have talent, but they haven't quite gotten the team machine well-oiled yet. The coaches took up the slack and guided them to a great escape from what looked for a while like a miserable defeat.

~~~~~~~~
I read a couple of letters to the editor this morning, regarding Anthony, the pedestrian who died last week after being hit in the intersection of Fifth and Cedar. Both had powerful messages. Bonnie Eng (whom I highly respect) wrote about what she watches out her La Quinta office window every day at that intersection.

She suggested that everyone do their part, in honor of Anthony, to see that this does not happen again in our "Walking Town." Personally, in the past couple of decades, I've never viewed Sandpoint as a user-friendly walking town. Moreover, it's also not a user-friendly driving town.

I would submit that drivers, bikers and pedestrians all have reason to be move in fear while passing through some key areas around town. Bikers often have scared the living daylights out of me when suddenly one appears in the midst of traffic darting from lane to lane and pedaling my direction.

With all the vehicle traffic of varying sizes going at different speeds down First, Cedar, Fifth and Pine, visibility is often hampered, thus leading to white-knuckle driving and praying that someone doesn't suddenly appear out of nowhere.

Overall, it's just not an ideal situation for anyone utilizing any form of mobility. So, as Bonnie says, efforts should be made to make every high congestion area in our town as safe as possible.

Along with that, individuals behind the wheel, on foot and sitting on bicycles need to take extra, extra care when making any move in areas where a variety of travelers are using the same space.

Bill, Willie and I were walking on the north sidewalk on Cedar a couple of weeks ago, headed for Mick Duffs. As we neared the stores on North First, several semis were rolling through town.

I was struck "mentally" with how easily a tragic accident could happen if a pedestrian walking too close to the sidewalk edge, tripped and fell into the street. Those semis are pretty intimidating as they whirl around that corner, to say the least.

I thought that evening about what a difference there could be in safety once the Byway eliminates the need for those huge trucks to round those corners in such limited space. Until then, I think we need to put away the "Sandpoint is a Walking Town" signs and replace them with signs outlining safety reminders and general rules for drivers, pedestrians and bikers.

The other letter about Anthony reflected how he touched so many people of all walks of life in this community. They called him "T-bone" at the Dish Restaurant. He always sat in a certain spot at the end of the bar and kept the staff entertained with his dry humor. In his memory, the staff put a candle and an empty place setting in that spot.

I'm aware of other stories about Anthony and, in each case, his friendship and caring about others reigns supreme. I can't help think with his passing that we had an angel among us, but we didn't realize it until he was gone.

This event makes us stop and think once more about how it's the little things---the smiles, the unselfish gift of time to brighten others' day, the consistency of how we treat others every single day---it all adds up in how we'll be remembered. In Anthony's case, I think he unwittingly amassed a legion of admirers who will not forget him.

And, in Anthony's behalf, I second Bonnie's motion for everyone to work a little harder at making our community a safer place for pedestrians, bikers and drivers to reach their destinations.

Plus, following Anthony's example of nonjudgmental and universal friendship and respect toward others would make a difference and would serve as a great tribute to his memory.

It's no longer a blob

It was just about five years ago during Thanksgiving vacation that my brother brought home his booklet full of quirky/PUNishing cartoons, entitled "Slight Detour." As I thumbed through the pages, all I could think was that people need to see these.

I thought and thought and then decided the best way to get some exposure for the cartoons was to start a blog. I could do some writing, and Jim could post his cartoons. I figured I'd keep up the writing for a few weeks, lose interest and go on my way while Jim could keep posting his cartoons under the moniker "Slight Detour."

I can't remember the date for the first installment of this blog, but I know it was early December, 2004. Another thing I remember distinctly was all the explanations I needed to make to people when I mentioned doing a blog.

"It's like an electronic journal; it's short for 'web log,'" I would say. "So they call it a blog."

Somehow my teaching skills fell short with a lot of listeners. They still insisted on asking me how to get to my "blob." Explaining how to get to my "blob" was just as challenging at the time. Most folks were still figuring out how to "surf the web," so throwing in the word "blog" just confused them all the more.

My brother and I collaborated on our Slight Detour blob for a year or so. Eventually, he drifted off to slight detours of his own, illustrating calendars and coming up with cartoons related to hang gliding. I surprised myself by continuing to write the daily snippets evolving each morning from my strange brain.

And eventually, as a wider array of people got more in tune with the Internet, Slight Detour developed into a full-fledged "blog" instead of a "blob." They were catching on. Plus, more and more people were starting blogs of their own, once they realized how simple the process really is.

I had followed Dave Oliveira's lead from the Spokesman-Review. He's the blogfather of www.huckleberriesonline.com He also promoted those early blogs coming from the hinterlands, and it was through his support that Jim's cartoons enjoyed some wider exposure. His support has also inspired me to keep up with this daily ritual.

More importantly, though, the support of loyal readers from across the world has bolstered my belief that blogging is a good thing. I'm often shocked to learn when someone tells me they follow my blog, often mentioning a few entries that tickled their fancy or made them think.

I'm also thrilled when people enjoy my photography and tell me they use some of the pictures to make cards or as wallpaper for their computer.

Just last night I heard from a student in the first SHS crop I ever taught. She graduated in 1969 when I did my student teaching under Ragnar Benson. I probably haven't seen or heard from her in nearly 40 years. She lives in Seattle and told me she follows this blog faithfully.

Then, she asked for my applesauce cake recipe, which I happily shared with her. And, speaking of recipes, I'm still blown away at how many people stop by this blog to copy off my Best Damn Pumpkin Dessert, Period! recipe. Those folks check in from all over the world.

The "blob" has been good to me, and I'm elated every time someone tells me they've started one of their own. I'm loving Nancy's new county 4-H blog, and Danielle Schoonover Otis of Western Pleasure Guest Ranch recently started one "From the Horses' Mouth," just to tell the daily story of life for the humans and the animals on a guest ranch.

From time to time, I've been tempted to bring this era of my writing/photography passion to a close. Then, I hear from someone like Judy from Seattle, and I realize that it has its merits, even if I do talk about hating snow and loving horses far too often.

The "blob" has become an integral part of my daily routine, and at this point, five years later, I can't imagine life without it. So, thanks to Jim, thanks to Dave, and especially thanks to all readers who check in to see the mutterings of this country hick almost every day.

Your support means a lot to me, and it's quite okay if you want to call it a blob.

Sunday Morning Snow Coming Down

I spoke of snow yesterday, but it didn't last. This morning, however, we've received at least a quarter inch since I put the horses out at 6 a.m. Weather forecasters say we could get as much as three inches, but by Thanksgiving it will be gone. That's fine with me.

This is shaping up to be a week loaded with fun stuff. Gonzaga plays in the Maui tournament, beginning tomorrow, so we have a ZAGS game at noon tomorrow. That's phenomenal for my mother who lives for ZAGS games. Having to watch the Bulldogs at midday will break up her day of being home alone.

And, knowing that the ZAGS will play for the next three days at different times will keep her excitement at fever pitch. Plus, she's excited cuz some of her kids are coming home for the holiday AND she may get her new door by Thursday. So, it's a good week for her, and for all of us ZAGNUTS whose adrenalin zips upward on any game day.

And, with this week's tournament, you can bet I'll be paying close attention to all the on-location extras featuring the Maui landscape. Funny how you pay better attention when you've got a connection with something. I heard lots of good Maui tales from Ron, our plumber, yesterday. He says the Gazebo Restaurant is a place we need to try, and he gave us some tips on roads not taken that we ought to take.

Yup, this is holiday week, so Annie will be driving over from Seattle either Wednesday night or Thursday, and we're thinking that Debbie will be up for the four days.

It's also the week that the long-awaited Lake Pend Oreille guidebook comes out. Keokee's having a launch party this Saturday from 3-5 p.m. at the Community Hall. In the meantime, they've posted information on www.sandpointonline.com about the book. As a contributor, I'm excited to see it, so I'll try to drag my family down there for the party.

And, for the skiers, the sight outside has got to be exciting with Thanksgiving marking the usual hoped-for opening of Schweitzer. Even though we lose our blanket of white down here in the valley, Schweitzer should be in good shape for some early season runs.

Today is my friend Helen's birthday, so I send her best wishes. Since 1963, she's not been thrilled to share her special day with the reminder of the day so many of us remember in 1963. Goosebumps still come back when I reflect the horror and deep sadness President Kennedy's assassination set off.

I felt like a part of my heart had been ripped out that day, and I know millions of others across the nation and the world felt the same.

Lots to think about on this day. On the more practical side, I've got stalls to prepare in the barn and apples simmering on the stove. More jelly, and maybe another applesauce cake today.

I made one Friday but forgot to turn the oven temperature to the desired setting. The cake was supposed to bake for 45 minutes, but when I came into the house at 30 minutes and could smell "well done," I was horrified. After the first inclination to throw it out, I decided to salvage what I could.

So, I cut around the outside, lifted the middle of the cake out in segments, and scrunched them together in a bigger cake pan. Then, I made a rich but goopy frosting in hopes of covering up the disastrous architecture. Unfortunately, the frosting all dripped off the sides and formed a white lake around the cake.

I took it to the ZAGS gathering at my sisters' and announced that no one was to make comments about the ugliness of their cake. I figured that as soon as they took a bite, cosmetics would not mean a thing. And, I was right.

Today I'll make another one and make sure it bakes at the correct temperature. Cuz the cake, ugly or beautiful, has a flavor to die for.

On that note, I'd better get busy on this snowy Sunday. Have a great day wherever you are.

Saturday Slightly Stormy

There's a Heavenly feel to this sight as a winter storm rolls down off the mountain.

That's the God Tree rising above the others in the west field.

It's an appropriate scene this morning as we take time to remember our dad, Harold Tibbs, who died on this day six years ago.

Hard to believe he's been gone that long, but his memory stays alive through all our work ethics, our pride in doing a job right, through our love of nature and animals and the simple life.

Harold definitely left his mark, and we silently thank him so often.

~~~~~

Also, this morning, I learned that the pedestrian killed in the crosswalk in downtown Sandpoint was Anthony.

I saw the name yesterday, but it meant nothing until I saw his photo in this morning's paper.

I did not know Anthony well, but I knew him, like so many in this town.

Anthony was a member of St. Joseph's Catholic Church, so I knew him there.

I also remember when he worked at Connie's.

Anthony had something for everyone: a warm, friendly smile and a hello.

Quite a gift and definitely appreciated by all who feel a sadness for his tragic loss.

RIP, Anthony.

~~~~~~

Speaking of gifts, I must tell you about Free Christmas. Actually, I'm not going to tell you. Instead, I'll provide you the link where my friend and former student Adrienne tells her story of how she and her family originated Free Christmas at Sagle a few years ago.

I have always greatly admired Adrienne. She's a talented, thoughtful soul and a model to which all parents could aspire.

To read her inspiring story, click on the Bonner County 4-H link at the top of my list to the right.

~~~~~~~~


Snow is coming from the sky in no particular pattern. Wind is keeping it off course as it falls.

Only time will tell if it leaves a lasting blanket today.

Maybe its effect will lead to pictures for tomorrow.

For today, Happy Saturday and check out the photo below.

Meserve Frosty Pies: a next-door delicacy.

Yesterday I took my first walk through Meserve's field since Bert Wood's cows left for the winter.

They may be living somewhere else for the winter, but the cows left reminders of their presence.

Usually I walk through the field when it's covered with snow.

Geneva was right when she told me to expect a lot of cow pies.

To Be a Fly on the Wall

How many times have we heard people wish they could be a fly on the wall? I've said it. In fact, I said it a couple of times yesterday. It seems that we all think that flies show up to gather all the intelligence in this world. Maybe they do.

I've never personally interviewed a fly, never thought about it. Killing flies, mosquitoes and providing death chambers for mice doesn't bother me in the least.

Maybe I've been missing something all these years by doing away with these critters. Maybe, with flies especially, there's been journalistic gold right in front of my nose, or more accurately ON my nose, constantly being swatted away when it should be embraced.

I wonder what the flies would have to say if on future occasions, as a journalist, I took a different approach when my knee-jerk reaction urges me to swat the heck out of any of those dirty little critters landing on my nose or tiptoeing across my computer screen. What if, for once, I calmly put my hand down, cupped it up, and lured said fly into the palm, kindly saying, "Let's have a talk."

I could go to the kitchen, grab some bread crumbs and offer crumbs for information. Here's how the interview would go.

What is your name and how do you spell it? Shoo Fly

Is that a common name among flies? Not really, but that's what most humans call us.

Why did you come to my house? I came here because I've heard you do a lot of dumb things, and I've been looking for some material to pass along to Hollywood sitcom writers.

Hmm! Dumb things. Can you give me an example? Yeah, sure, I witnessed a good one the other day when you were trying to stuff aluminum foil in all the possible mouse entrances in your hot water heater closet.

It looked kinda stupid, seeing you wad up that aluminum foil, pick up that stick and then reach over the water heater to stuff the foil in that hole. That looked stupid, but the pay-off was when you got stuck between the water heater and the wall. Your head was dangling toward the floor and your big rear end was sticking up in the air.

It kinda reminded me of that idea I gave the writers to use on Julie Dreyfuss in her "The New, Old Christine" show. Ya know when she got her foot caught in the toilet bowl and had to lie there looking at an ear wig on the ceiling?

Seeing you stuck there in the water heater closet was hilarious. I was hoping you'd fall forward onto the floor behind the water heater and have to stand on your head while a mouse came crawling through the aluminum foil and raced around in your hair all day. That would make a great story line.

Okay, you're right, that was kinda funny, once I dislodged myself, but what else stupid have you witnessed while occupying my walls? Well, I did see what happened while you were gone and the mousetrap behind the dog couch in the garage went missing. I thought that was really funny to see your reaction when you couldn't find it. After all, you had just disposed of a dead mouse from the trap shortly before leaving. Serves you right to have the trap go missing. Wanta know what happened?

Yeah, I would like to know what happened. I found it sitting on a table clear across the room. Tell me the rest of the story. Well, after you shut the dogs and Fuzzy Wuzzy (the cat who thinks she's a dog) in the garage and drove off, things happened quickly. Another dumb mouse came to the trap for its peanut butter breakfast. The trap did its thing, and the mouse was a gonner.

Fuzzy Wuzzy was sitting on top of the couch, watching all this, and smiling because the trap saved her a lot of the usual "cat-and-mouse" effort. "A free and easy meal," she thought, as she jumped from the back of the couch, grabbed the mouse and its trap and carried it over to the table to have a proper meal.

She had a little difficulty removing the whole corpse from the trap, but she whiddled away at it and finished off the last bite in plenty of time to go rest on the couch before you returned. And, when you were frantically racing around the garage, yelling out, "Where the Hell did that trap go?" we were whooping it up . . . quietly, of course. We knew you were mad and that the mice had finally driven you to the edge.

You're right on that one. I have to admit there for a second I figured I was headed to the looney bin, after getting stuck in the water heater closet and losing a mousetrap, all in a couple hours time. It did disorder my mind, but my reasoning returned. So, as a fly on our Lovestead wall, have you seen any other samples of stupidity during your stay here? Yeah, I'd have to say feeding the deer off your deck could turn into a good story. I think that's kinda stupid, and so do the mice. I'm just waiting around until one of those whitetail does comes right up on the deck and starts watching the TV sitcoms. Of course, since I'm the fly on the wall who provides a lot of the material, there could come a time when an upcoming segment shows a lady stuck in the water heater closet and a deck-fed deer who broke through the sliding glass door, looking for more hand-outs is standing right behind her, ramming her in the rear. That's got great possibilities.

I really like being a fly on your wall, cuz I'll have good material for years to come.

Who's counting?

As I sit here on this gloomy, gloomy Thursday morning, one uplifting thought provides me some hope. Only 32 more days until the turning point.

I started doing this crazy countdown each fall a couple of years ago when it dawned on me one dark morning that we need to look forward to the darkness, more of it each day, cuz the more we have, the sooner it is until darkness turns toward the light.

So, instead of dreading the fall back from Daylight Savings time and really loathing the thought of Dec. 21, the shortest day of the year, I took on a new perspective. "Embrace it. Bring it on!" I decided, after years of beginning my dread of winter and darkness as early as August.

Too much time wasted, I finally reasoned. When Daylight Savings turns to Daylight Standard, don't frown. Rejoice! After all, the process has started toward an ending point.

Spending all that time in August, September and October dreading wasn't doing me any good. And hating it all even worse, once we were officially thrust into shorter and shorter days, was even less productive.

So, my glass half-full approach when the day is more than half empty of darkness, has given me a fresh, fortified outlook on attacking winter/dark doldrums.

Only 32 days left until the shortest day, I say. We're getting closer to filling our days with more and more light. Now (to myself I say) get to work on some projects, and it will fly by that much faster.

So, on this morning, I'm count the days until I leave the Lovestead, meet up with my daughter in Seattle and fly off to Maui aka Paradise, and I know there is much to be done. Disclaimer: Please bear with me if my counting fails on any upcoming projections; after all, I'm an English teacher.

Anyway, that would be 14 by my ciphering. By that day, we'll be down to only 18 days of progressively increased darkness.

~~~Number of days until you'd better have all those Christmas presents purchased. Would I be correct in saying 35? Only 35 more shopping days. Sounds okay and even sounds better when you factor in that when you have all your Christmas shopping completed, we're three days into the light.

~~~Number of days until you'd better have those Christmas cards, purchased, addressed, THE LETTER written, printed off, envelopes stamped, personal notes scrawled: 31. I like to have everything in the mail by Dec. 20, except for a few stragglers where I've lost the address or someone who hasn't sent me a card in 50 years suddenly catches me off guard.

By the time most of those cards go out in the mail, I'll be really happy---only one day of ultimate darkness left on the penultimate day of said shortest day. Did I use "penultimate" right, Florine?


~~~Days left until Christmas, when we can count on a quiet morning, blueberry muffins and lots of paper to clean up around the house, and the opportunity to watch "It's a Wonderful Life" for 24 hours straight: that would be 36, if my estimates are correct. And, on Christmas we'll be well on our way to noticing a change from the gloom.

I figure it usually takes about a week to start noticing more light at the end of the afternoon.

When that happens, there's a new spring in my step and a mind filled with hope and expectation for the time---still months away---when things will come alive again and there'll be no more flopping on the couch at 7 p.m., falling off---not the couch--but into a deep slumber halfway through "Entertainment Tonight" in the midst of a 400th interview with someone who walked by Michael Jackson one day and has some personal observations to offer about the late pop star.

By that time, we will have seen every inch of Levi's body in every possible setting, so we just won't care anymore because outdoor pursuits will be calling.

And, speaking of Levi, I need to announce that, as of this writing, a mere 7 days and 9 hours remain for you to bid on the Sandpoint Magazine, autographed by Sarah Palin. So, far--who's counting?---a whopping $51.10 has been bid in the EBay listing. Auction closes Nov. 26--just 25 days from the Solstice, just get your bid in.

For that assignment, go to www.sandpointonline.com, scroll down the right side, and you'll find the link to the auction site, plus all the information that proceeds will go to the Panhandle Special Needs here in Sandpoint.

I'm worn out from counting, and I've got a lot of stuff that needs to be done before all those deadlines mentioned above. I'm also 45 minutes closer to Dec. 21 since I started writing, and the day is getting brighter.

Time flies when you're counting toward a time in the future. Have a fun Thursday, and count your blessings. That's more fun than counting days; plus, it takes up time.

Everybody needs a Selle Club

At 90 years old, plus a week, Ina Jacobson is NOT the oldest member of Selle Extension Club.

Wilma Erickson holds that title.

Nevertheless, yesterday was Ina's special day at the monthly Selle Club meeting.

I figured out yesterday that I'm the second youngest member of the club. Linda Rutherford was born in August, 1947, while I was born in June that year.

Age does not draw lines at Selle Club, however.

Some of us young 'uns sit in awe of those who've been members since the 1930s.

If there were ever true role models to emulate, they're not necessarily and not often found on television screens.

Instead, institutions like Selle Club are havens for such inspiring folks.

I treasure my membership of this club because, as I watch all the insanity that seems to go on in the world, I can show up at a club meeting and renew my sense of what's truly good about the human condition in this world.

Yesterday, Selle Club women showed off shawls they made. Then, they talked about retirement/elderly care centers where they could deliver them.

Instead of bringing gifts for each other to the annual Christmas luncheon, Dione suggested that each lady bring a toy for the Toys for Tots.

The club has a canning jar full of cash that's been donated during every meeting this past year.

The club also has a new family from the Northside School area for whom they'll spend that cash. Three of the ladies love to go do the shopping every year for the family.

The ladies gave their recipes for the cookbook shown below.

And, the ladies celebrated Ina's birthday yesterday.

There is a feeling of warmth, friendship and caring among the membership.

And, there are the colorful stories of past times. That's the part I love the most.

I submit that if this world had a lot more Selle Clubs which exist simply for sincere humanitarian causes and for down-to-earth, unpretentious friendship, we'd all have better days.

Because of its abundant shining examples, Selle Club keeps me grounded in what's really important about the way we live our lives.

I feel blessed to be among the membership.

Ina and Wilma dish up goodies for the traditional Selle Club potluck luncheon.

Birthday girl, Ina Jacobson, with her cake and her beautiful rose.

Seated to Ina's left is Wilma Erickson, who celebrated her 95th birthday in 2008.

I would venture to say that these two women's years of membership in Selle Club adds up to far more than my age of 62.

Ina is the mother of Al, Larry and Roy Jacobson, all great athletes and leaders while growing up here in Sandpoint.

All, phenomenal people with phenomenal families.

Ina's husband Elmer, a lifelong woodsman, took time out to go off to war.

Wilma worked in the War Department during WWII.

Yesterday she told the story of coming across a pay stub for Elmer's wages to be sent to Ina. It was a welcome sight for a young lady so far away from home during the war.

Selle Sunshine lady Isabel Hohreigal reads Ina's autobiography to the group.

A slightly "flash-altered" view of the cookbook designed to raise money for the Bonner County Fair Foundation.

$14.95 buys you some time-honored recipes from extension club members throughout Bonner County, along with a few vintage photos from various parts of the county.

Great Christmas present: if you want to order, I can put you on to the ladies carrying copies around in their car trunks.

Or, Vanderford's in Sandpoint has them.

Sarah Palin to Katie Couric: Sandpoint Magazine

My dad loved to share his tidbits of wisdom: Don't take any wooden nickels. Don't stick any beans up your nose. "Every little bit counts," said the old lady as she peed in the ocean. If the dog hadn't stopped to go to the bathroom, he'd a caught the rabbit, and if I hadn't slipped in it, I'd a seen the race. Etc., Etc.

Well, I haven't enough fingers and toes to count all the times I've used those sayings myself, especially the last one. In our dinner-table conversations, Mother would sometimes mention the "big IF" when we'd be making excuses about something that hadn't gone quite right during our day.

I can't help but use a little of that simple dinner-table philosophy in today's discussion.

IF Sarah Palin had just said to Katie Couric, "Oh, I read them all, especially Sandpoint Magazine," she probably wouldn't have so much 'splaining to do." But then again, now that faux pas makes for good reading.

I'm sure she's heard the word "if" more times than she has cared to over the past 15 months.

Ever since writing the story about Sarah Palin for Sandpoint Magazine last fall, I've dealt with the "big IF" several times too, wondering IF there was anything more I could have done to avoid the "Big Mistake" I made while doing the story. It's a journalist's nightmare, you know, to make a mistake, and it haunts you for time immemorial.

My "Big Mistake" involved the photo of Sarah's alleged first home that I submitted to the folks at Keokee to go along with the story. I could go into all the reasons I ASS-U-MEd I had the correct residence, but I won't. Nobody really cares WHY mistakes are made, but they sure do care WHEN they're made.

I heard almost immediately of my big blooper after the magazine with Sarah's story hit the downtown streets. The photo I submitted was the house next door to Sarah's---blue and gray, just like Sarah's house, loud dogs barking, just like Sarah's house, etc.

In a frenzy, immediately after hearing of my error, I took a jar of my apple jelly to the tenant who was renting the house. I hoped the jelly would soothe his frustrations of going to the door and telling people, "No, she lived next door." He was pretty jovial about the whole thing, though. Thank God.

The interesting part that I learned after being made aware of the error of my ways was that a big fat Obama sign sat in the yard of the real home where Sarah spent her first three months of life.

That's all history now. There's nothing I can do to make up for the error, except to rationalize that the article is like a Navajo blanket---flawed. And, that's what adds value to Navajo blankets, I'm told.

Why do I tell this story? And, why should Sarah have told America and Katie Couric that she "reads them all, especially Sandpoint Magazine"?

Well, there's proof of the pudding at www.sandpointonline.com. And, there's a chance for Sarah to redeem herself through tangible proof that she has at least picked up a Sandpoint Magazine.

She autographed the front cover of edition, which includes said story by yours truly with the flawed photograph. And, Keokee is doing like they did with a past article I wrote a few years ago about Viggo Mortensen.

They're auctioning it off on EBay and sending all money earned to a charitable cause.

In this case, Panhandle Special Needs of Sandpoint will be the recipient, and Keokee owner Chris Bessler figures Sarah would highly approve of that choice.

The EBay auction lasts until Nov. 26, and what better day than today---the launching date for Sarah's book---to get the auction started. Actually, I learned about it last night when Chris sent me a note.

In the case of the Viggo article, the EBay auction brought in more than $300.

I think we can top that. We can do so by spreading the word----to Republicans, Democrats, and all other political folks. Certainly they can put their politics aside to engage in a wonderful cause for our Panhandle Special Needs facility here in Sandpoint.

So, please get the word out to all the people in your address books. Tell folks to go to www.sandpointonline.com, scroll down to the right, click, travel on to the EBay site and place a bid. This EBay page has all the information about the magazine and additional photo of Sarah that will go with to the winning bidder.

And, because that article was flawed, I'm still feeling the symbolic egg on my face for making the mistake. So, IF the auction nets $10,000 or more for Panhandle Special Needs, I'll be happy to stand in front of Sarah's real first home in Sandpoint and allow her to crack a dozen eggs off the top of my head.

So, go to it. Let's raise money for Panhandle Special Needs. Remember, "'Every little bit counts,' said the old woman . . . ."

Fix-it week

Sometime this morning Tony will be calling. And, sometime this week, Ron will be coming. Sometime this week, Joyce will go into action on my head. Possibly this week, Joyce's son Jim will be calling to set a time for his work.

This is fix-it week, and I'll be available for the fix-it folks here at the Lovestead and at the Colburn farm. I'll also be going to the hair fix-it shop to get some maintenance done on myself.

While cleaning stalls in the barn this morning, I heard on K102 that Deejay Derek went to get his hair cut this weekend, and he got plenty for the price of a haircut.

The beautician finished trimming Derek's hair and then pulled out an instrument and started in on his eyebrows. Derek hadn't expected that, but he said he didn't mind.

There's plenty besides my hair that Joyce could fix on me, but so far, she hasn't offered, and I haven't asked. No eyebrow stuff, no nosehairs, no toenails. And, that's just fine. I like to attack that personal maintenance within the confines and privacy of my own home.

Annie told me I'd better get some maintenance done before heading off for Maui in a couple of weeks. That would be tanning. I have done tanning in the winter time----I figure it's one of those rare self-indulgences for a soul who usually doesn't care much about personal maintenance as long as my hair looks okay and I'm clean.

But tanning BEFORE going to Maui sounds pretty sensible to me. After all, I want to enjoy the whole stay there rather than feeling like a lobster ready for the pot after one day in the sun.

Back to the home maintenance. Ron, our wonderful plumber, will be coming to fix the drip under the kitchen sink. We had a drip under the kitchen sink when we first met Ron several years ago. We were impressed with him from the moment we met him, and our respect and admiration has only grown since we ended up moving right next door to his parents.

Ron Kauble, Jr., like Tony Bitton, is one of the "salt-of-the-earth" people who help us out with our maintenance challenges. With these folks, you get quality, professional workmanship as well as the confidence that these people take pride in doing every job right. Plus, they've both turned out to be good friends.

Ron will be also fixing one of the automatic waterers in the barn. It's got a slow drip out one corner. That drip falls on the rubber mat, and when it's cold, turns to ice. I do not want the drip to suddenly turn into a waterfall in mid-winter, so we're taking care of it now. Plus, it's nice not to have to carry buckets of water to the barn every day.

Sometime this week, Jim, son of Joyce, my hairdresser, will call and set up an appointment to install Mother's new front door. We went to the door shop (the Sandpoint Furniture complex) a few weeks ago and picked out a beautiful door with an oval cut-glass window. We're figuring it should come in this week.

And, when Jim, who's been doing windows and doors for several years, comes to put it in, there will be reason to celebrate. The practicality of having a door with no opening between it and the threshold will be welcome, and the beauty of the new door for the Christmas season will add a festive touch to Mother's house.

Sometime this week, I might even call John, our horseshoer, to come for end-of-the-season maintenance on the horses' feet. Shoes off for Lily and a trim for Lefty and Heather. Then, we won't see John again until spring when we're ready to start all over playing with the horses.

Lots to do. Actually, I don't do much when the fix-it people do their thing. Just talk while they work, and try not to talk too much in some instances so they can get their work done. Regardless of what they're doing to make our lives go more smoothly, there's a common thread associated with all fix-it folks: the check at the end.

And, in each of these cases, we won't mind it one bit, cuz they're all the best!

Of Sadie and Maureen

I loved Sadie Hawkins, and I love Maureen. This is their day.

I didn't realize until this morning in the Google top-ten searches with Sadie Hawkins ranking second under Sarah Palin that this is Sadie's birthday, so to speak. She showed up in the cartoon strip Dog Patch, and her dad was worried she'd never get married.

This is also a special day for Maureen, and I think it's a significant one. I think we discussed the chronological details last year when I wished her a happy birthday. Maureen's my niece. She's the oldest of all the nieces and nephews on this side of the family, and she's a nice lady.

So, happy birthday, Maureen. I hope---if this is your significant birthday---you have a great celebration. On my significant birthday, I got sent on a scavenger hunt around Sandpoint, which included black roses from one of the local flower shops and the offer of a brand-new baby from John and Kathy who ran the Whistlestop Cafe at the time.

John and Kathy are no longer here; I think they moved back to Kansas, and I'm sure that baby no longer lives with them. She may have even graduated from college by now.

The Whistlestop, which served really yummy donuts, along with a little conservative political philosophy from John, is now known as Mick Duff's. And, of course, for the oldtimers, part of that site was once the Pend Oreille Sport Shop.

Anyway, I have fun and good memories of that day so long ago, and I hope Maureen's family and friends----if this is the right number---serve her up a memorable day. Don't take any free baby offers, Maureen.

As for Sadie Hawkins, I loved her a lot when I was a teen-age wallflower. The Sadie Hawkins Dance at Sandpoint Junior High provided the one forum where I had a chance to initiate romances. Since nobody ever asked me to the dances, Sadie Hawkins gave me license to ask the boys.

I remember one instance in particular. I had met Larry Edgar from Priest River at the Bonner County Fair, always a ripe setting for newfound teen romances. Larry actually liked me, which was a rarity.

We exchanged letters after school started, and it was okay for a while, but when I started hearing from Larry's mother who was all but inviting me into the family---as a 13-year-old---that made me a little nervous.

Sadie Hawkins Day was coming up, and I thought Larry was coming to the dance, but I think he broke his arm or something. Whatever the case, there was a reason he wouldn't be showing up. By that time, my passion for Larry was waning anyway, especially cuz of the inordinate amount of interest in me shown by his mom.

At the time, I was setting my sights on Dennis Timoskevich. He was smart, good at math. He was a farm boy from Sagle, and I figured he was too shy to have a girl friend. So, one day, feeling pretty confident, I walked up to Dennis and asked him to the dance.

"No," he said. And that was all he said, but what a powerful word to dump on a hopeful, awkward girl in search of a date to the dance. My world was crushed . . . well, maybe for a day or two. Still, I wasn't going to stay home cuz Dennis rejected me. There were other possibilities, and since girls could ask boys to dance at the dance, all was not lost.

Turned out when I went to the dance and walked up the cement steps to the school, there stood Larry Edgar. I had a date after all. If I recall correctly, I didn't push the romance, and eventually after Sadie Hawkins Day, the correspondence from Priest River ceased, even from Mom.

Sadie Hawkins should be enshrined in a Hall of Fame when you consider what she unwittingly did for so many desperate girls. Heck, she got me through junior high. I don't think we had any Sadie Hawkins dances in high school, so you might say I went through a dry spell in the romance department.

Anyway, this is Sadie's day, and this is Maureen's day, and I salute both for very different reasons. Happy Birthday!

Epilogue: Dennis went on to become a pilot in the Air Force after graduating from the University of Idaho. He and his lovely wife attended our 40th-class reunion; he now lives in San Antonio, and his nephew is a well-known sportscaster here in Sandpoint.

Sadly, Larry died several years ago in a drowning accident. His cousin Esther, though, remains one of my good friends and former SHS colleagues. Interestingly, she works in the PTE department with Willie at the school. Fun lady.

Saturday Slightly Snowy

I'm looking out the window at Lily. She, with her red spots and her reddish brown blanket, contrasts sharply with the white sea surrounding her---white fence, white fields with a backdrop of white-dusted trees and bluish white mountain in the distance.

We've got snow. Two inches of it this morning, but that's it for several days, and I will not complain. The rest of the week is forecast to be dry and even sunny at times. Can't knock that.

Last night marked a first for the 2009-2010 snow season. Internet didn't work when we arrived home from our Friday night outing to Mick Duffs. So, that meant boots back on, a trip to the garage to get the mop followed by a climb up the outside ladder to mop off the satellite dish.

The routine is changing, and Bill can expect more noise pollution within the walls of this house when weather plays havoc with the Internet. This morning he told Willie that "it's easy to tell when there's snow or rain on the dish."

I agreed. Bill doesn't climb the ladder or clean off the dish in the midst of snowy weather either, so he doesn't complain about the choice words flying through the air.

~~~~~~
This morning I've gotta tell you about a new link on my list. My friend Nancy Wright has started a blog for the Bonner County 4-H program, which she coordinates. You can find it at http://www.4hclovercountry.blogspot.com/, or by simply clicking on the Bonner County 4-H link at the top of my list.

Nancy, who hails from Vermont, has worked with the program here for a number of years. She has decided to use the blog format to get the word out on local 4-H activities and general 4-H opportunities. The blog is in its infancy, but I predict that it will develop into a very nice tool for Nancy and for anyone who loves the 4-H program.

I can thank 4-H for a major portion of my life successes. Next to my own family, the program offered me the basic tools to approach virtually any project associated with my professional life.
Meeting deadlines, doing the job right, using communications skills, organization---you name it.

My 4-H experiences involving cooking, sewing, arts and crafts, horses, cows, and junior leadership were catastrophic, hilarious and meaningful. From each experience---negative or positive, I learned something to take with me through my life's journey.

So, I encourage readers to check out Nancy's blog and contribute whenever you have something to offer. I'm sure Nancy would love to hear ideas from around the country on projects, activities or just plain ol' stories associated with the 4-H experience.

Good Luck, Nancy, with your blog.

~~~~~~
I see that my friend Helen has found a valuable new vocation as she officially approaches "Life after City Council." This morning's Daily Bee sports section featured a wishful prognostication of sorts from Helen regarding today's Vandal-Bronco football game.

She says even if the Idaho Vandals win 3-2 over the Boise State Broncos, it will be just fine with her.

She predicts, however, it will be a high-scoring game. Helen knows her numbers, so I'm guessing the second part of her outlook could be pretty true. I do think, however, the first scenario would make national headlines if we had a game where a field goal beat a safety.

Let's just see how close Helen is to getting it right. If she is, maybe the Daily Bee will hire her as its new sports ombudsman----or would that be an ombudswoman. I think ombudder would be the most political correct.

So, Ombudder Helen, good luck with your predictions. And, as I said yesterday, Idaho wins no matter what. Either team's victory will make the state proud.

I'm wearing my Boise State sweatshirt, by the way, with a red polo shirt underneath so I can quickly change into my Gonzaga Bulldogs jacket for the big ZAGS season opener at 5 p.m.

Snowy Friday, the 13th

It's intermittent, but the snow they promised us has started falling. This should be the first significant white dusting of the now-brown turf for this year. I'm not complaining about it too much because the conditions are dry rather than soggy and gloomy.

It's the kind of winter weather that's easy on the animals, though. When we get the alternative nobody's too thrilled. We're supposed to have snow through the day, mounting up to about three inches and then drying out for a few days. I'll take that.

I'm much more tolerant than usual for another reason. Annie and I made a firm decision this week to go to Maui for a week in early December. I've never been to Hawaii; she's been twice but never to Maui. After we decided to go and made the news public on Facebook, we learned that my cousin Sue will be there at the same time.

Sue called me last night, and that's when I learned that her brother, my cousin Eddie and his wife will be accompanying her. So, this has definitely been the "Year of the Cousins." I saw Sue in August when all the first-cousin women, plus Eddie's wife Mary, came to Sandpoint for a rollicking, fun day.

I haven't seen Eddie, who operates a fruit farm in the Columbia Basin, since Willie and Debbie were married eight years ago. So, this will be a treat.

Sue has been to Maui enough times to pass along suggestions to Annie, the ultimate trip planner. Plus, we plan to get together one night for dinner and maybe even go geocaching together one of the days that we're there.

It will be nice to cast aside the flannel-lined jeans and barn boots in favor of shorts and sandals for a week. Of course, there's a lot to do in preparation for the trip----making sure all bases are covered here at home. Plus, I've got some work projects to finish and some Christmas stuff to attend to.

That's good, though, because it makes me have to move forward rather than procrastinating. If I do it all right, maybe I'll be more organized than usual for the holidays this year.

In other news, Willie's home today, enjoying relaxation after a tough nine-week grind into his first year of teaching. His parent conferences went well, so he's feeling pretty good about his new career situation.

He'll be finding out all the details of a possible home to rent this weekend, and he gets to do another writing gig for the Spokesman-Review tomorrow when he covers the Sandpoint-Hillcrest quarter-final match-up. If the Bulldogs win tomorrow, they'll be playing in the Idaho State Championship at the U of I Kibbie Dome.

Last night Bill attended the 75th Anniversary of Kiwanis Boy Scout Troop 111. He was their scoutmaster for several years. Each scoutmaster was given a special neckerchief, commemorating the event. Bill's scouts have gone on to become fine citizens, working at interesting careers throughout the nation.

He took a book along to share with the attendees. It was written by Eagle Scout Adam Cochran who traveled the world after leaving Sandpoint, encountering some interesting adventures. Adam now works in Washington, D.C. for the National Park Service. I'm sure last evening's event was very meaningful for all who attended.

We're excited about the sports action this weekend. Besides the Sandpoint-Hillcrest game, the long-awaited annual match-up between the Idaho Vandals and the Boise State Broncos is set for tomorrow. I have to root for both since I'm a Vandal graduate and the three kids are BSU grads. In my mind, Idaho wins no matter what.

Later, we'll resume our enthusiastic support of the ZAGS. They've played an exhibition game and won. We're all impressed with the new corral of players, and they'll play their season opener against Mississippi Valley State tomorrow at 5 p.m. The same team plays the WSU Cougars in their opener this evening.

Winter has come, and along with it, the great sports events that help us through the winter. A good weekend lies ahead, even if it is snowing.

TGIF to all. GO BULLDOGS! GO BULLDOGS! GO COUGS! GO VANDALS! GO BRONCOS! AND FOR THE MONTANA READERS, GO GRIZZLIES!

Reasons to geocache

Bill and I went on a quick geocaching outing yesterday afternoon.

The weather was much better than we experienced Sunday when we drove the Grouse Creek Road.

Fog was rising off the creek and the sun was headed toward its evening residence.

Both phenomena created lovely artistic scenes as we visited two sites where geocaches had been planted.

We have been geocaching for more than five years now, and our enthusiasm for the sport continues to remain at a high level.

I was suggesting to Bill and Willie this morning that leaders of the world and all the people who spend too much time hating other people should become geocachers.

The sport offers a wonderful opportunity to get to know the Earth and to connect with nature.

More importantly, the camaraderie among those who partake in the sport offers a refreshing escape from all the griping, moaning, groaning, finger pointing, etc. that monopolize too much of our daily lives.

Virtually every geocaching outing inspires a good feeling within the soul and abundant memories to savor.

Some of the treasures of geocaching, compliments of ShortbabyGoats.

One of the offerings from the Wiley Knob Trail geocache

Ammo cans are popular containers for geocachers as they put together an assortment of items for trade.

Common rule is that if you take something from the box, replace it with your own offering.

Bill didn't take anything from this box but left some of his home-tied flies for future geocachers.

Bill says a lot of the geocaches are getting to be like department stores.

Yesterday's two caches offered toys, gloves, a mini roll of toilet paper, games, and useful tools.

He's showing off some of the stuff he found in Janice's Schoonover aka WP Ranch cache.

We found the cache easily on our second trip to the end of the Grouse Creek Road.

Several trails lead out of the Wiley Knob parking lot at Grouse Creek.

I took the most traveled while Bill was getting his geocaching gear organized.

I walked nearly half a mile figuring he was just behind me.

Turns out the most inconspicuous trail held the geocache.

My slight detour, however, offered the view. It was late afternoon, and the sun had just set over Baldy Mountain and Schweitzer, off to the West of where I stood. One more time I wished to have a better camera, but this was still a nice view.

My tendency while geocaching is to see if I can find the cache or to wait around until Bill finds it---then take off looking for pictures.

In this case, the process reversed itself. I found the pictures, then had to go find Bill and the dogs.

Salute to the Taylor Siblings

Love Notes
by Marianne Love
for The River Journal
November, 2009


This month, I’m happy to share a story, Taylor-made for when we honor Veterans’ Day and celebrate Thanksgiving.

Why “Taylor-made?”

Well, this story involves the Taylor family of Selle, who live across the road from me. My husband Bill and I have known them for several years through scouting, school, church and neighborhood activities.

We’ve witnessed their dedicated, passionate involvement and their never-ending work ethic. I believe this entire family’s continued contributions to community, to this nation and to people, in general, give us many reasons to be thankful.

Married 36 years and hard-working farmers, Jim and Mary Taylor have five children, including four boys and one girl. A daughter, Katie Jean, died at age 3. Jim and Mary, both natives of the Silver Valley, first met when Jim was home on leave from the Army and Mary was attending Eastern Washington University (then a state college).

Jim, a Vietnam Veteran (Army combat engineer) is now retired from Trans Canada Gas Co., where he finished his career in the company’s Northern Area as a supervisor in charge of operation, maintenance and shipping gas to California.

Mary has lived a lifetime of volunteering, and it seems as if she’s ubiquitous. One time I went to the annual forestry contest, and there were three Taylors, flipping hamburgers for the hundreds of participants.

At the Taylor home, kids were expected to do their best in school. If not, there was plenty of shoveling time at home to think about it. They also learned that dinner time was sacred.

“We waited until their daddy came home, and then dinner was served,” Mary explains. “Then, we’d eat. There was no excuse (except maybe sports) not to be there. We had a family meal and spent the time talking about the day. When they got up from the table, they would say, ‘Excuse me,’ and they would thank their mom for the dinner.”

This past summer Jim and Mary spent a week on the John C. Stennis CVN74, one of the U.S. Navy’s nuclear-powered supercarriers. The couple sailed from Everett, Wash., to San Diego with their son Chief Petty Officer Michael Taylor, currently stationed in Bremerton on the Stennis.

The “tiger cruise” came after Michael’s most recent six-months tour of duty at sea. Mary even steered the huge vessel, and the trio enjoyed a spectacular Fourth of July in San Diego Harbor, watching fireworks extravaganzas put on by several San Diego-area communities.

“We were able to stand on the flight deck and in the “crow’s nest” where the captain watches operations as jets took off and landed,” Mary recalled, while recently telling me about her experiences as a Navy mom. “How many parents get to do that?”

Jim and Mary have also spent time in Guam, hiking and snorkeling. That was when they pinned Michael’s anchors on his collar after he’d reached his rank of chief.

On other occasions, they’ve visited Washington, D.C., when their oldest son Navy Hospital Corpsman Second Class Peter Taylor was stationed there. He serves as a SEAL team support medic out of Little Creek, VA.

Mary visited New England when their third son Electronic Technician 2nd Class Brian Taylor was stationed in Portsmouth, NH.

So far, they haven’t taken any trips associated with their son Terry’s Navy involvement. That is sure to come, however. Terry graduated last month with academic honors from Basic Training at Great Lakes Naval Training Station near Chicago. He’s now stationed in Groton, Conn.

Besides traveling opportunities, Jim and Mary are justifiably proud that their four sons serve in the United States Navy. They’re equally proud that each young man earned his Eagle Scout while growing up in Sandpoint.

And, they’re delighted that their daughter Elizabeth will provide her own brand of service to others as an educator, specializing in American Sign Language interpreting for the deaf. She’s already put in four years of signing with the Blackfoot School District and is currently completing her four-year degree through the University of Idaho.

Now for a little rundown on the Taylor kids:

Hospital Corpsman 2nd Class Petty Officer Peter Taylor (33) has served in Iraq three times since enlisting ten years ago. He’s currently deployed. He and his wife Jen (served six years in the Navy) have three small boys, Ethan, Evan and Eli. As a member of Kiwanis Boy Scout Troop 111, Peter earned his Eagle badge by completing a bench and its concrete work in front of the Bonner County Courthouse. As a high school student, he served as an SHS Bulldog soccer manager.

Chief Petty Officer for Radar and Navigation Michael Taylor (32) was the first of the Taylor brothers to join the Navy in 1996. To earn his Eagle Scout badge in Troop 111, he built a handicapped ramp at the Hunter Safety Building near Pine Street Park. He also converted the bathrooms for handicapped accessibility. Michael served as soccer manager and played lineman for two years on the Bulldog football team.

Electronic Technician 2nd Class Brian Taylor (25) is also stationed at Bremerton, Wash., aboard the USS Seawolf SSN-21 submarine. He’s in charge of submarine navigation and upkeep. Brian met his wife Melanie in Portsmouth, NH, where she served in the air guard. The couple are parents to a 5-month old son, Theodore. Construction of six benches at Northside School (where all Taylor children attended) earned Brian his Eagle as a member of St. Joseph’s Troop 308. As a high school student Brian participated in football and wrestling, taking fourth place at State as a heavyweight his senior year.

Seaman Terry Taylor (18), after graduating with academic honors in a class of 815 recruits, is currently attending basic submarine school in Groton, Conn. Upon completion, he’ll attend electronic technician “A” school to navigate submarines. Terry’s Eagle Scout project for St. Joseph’s Troop 308 involved erecting signs at the Water Life Discovery Center on Lakeshore Drive. He participated in golf and wrestling for four years at SHS and competed at State twice as a 215-pound and heavyweight grappler. Terry also distinguished himself as a chess player, taking second place at last year’s first SHS All-School chess tournament and excelling in speed chess.

Elizabeth Taylor (27) will finish her U of I degree in the next year or so. As a high school student, she was active in band, playing the clarinet and bass clarinet.
I had a chance to visit briefly with and glean some information from Michael Taylor, who was home recently on leave. I have fond memories of Michael as an enthusiastic student in my graphic arts class at SHS. He joined the Navy because of its advanced computer offerings, and its college fund. He has recently applied for its officer program.

Michael has lived the time-honored slogan “Join the Navy and See the World,” with opportunities to ski in Chile and go white-water rafting in Turkey. He’s visited Rome and Spain and has been deployed several times. One six-month tour took him to the Horn of Africa.

A typical day on the job for Michael involves supervision of 19 Electronics Technicians in preventive and corrective maintenance for all air and surface search radars, aircraft landing systems and navigation. Before retiring in 7-12 years, he hopes to complete his college degree, be selected for the officer program and have a family.

For now, he appreciates the support of his own family, his scouting background and a little friendly sibling rivalry.

“My parents helped a lot in teaching me to stand up for what I believe, and to do the right thing. I remember how proud their were when they came to Guam to pin on my chief anchors,” he says. “In scouts, I learned how to follow and, later, how to lead people.

“My siblings continue to influence me by making sure that I continue to outrank them,” he adds. “I want to make sure they do not pass me in rank.”

At this point, Jim and Mary are content to leave the competition to the kids and to support them in whatever career decisions they make.

“We are proud parents,” Mary says.

As the neighbor who lives across the road from the Taylor’s, I believe Jim and Mary have every right to be proud. Families like the Taylors keep this nation on track through both military and public service. For that, we can all be grateful.

Note: On this Veterans' Day, 2009, I extend gratitude to members of all military branches who have served and sacrificed for our American nation.