V Bar X Ranch: Where milk cows dared to roam . . . and roam

I wonder if this little gal will have to go find a milk cow.

According to dozens of stories told last night by a couple of generations of the Jim Wood family, kids learned a lot about life by tracking down Bossy.

Virginia, the matriarch, had her cow searching stories, as did Steve, the oldest of Jim and Virginia's five children.

The event was a celebration of the Wood family's inclusion into the Forest Legacy program.

Stories of the past and of wandering milk cows who dared to roam near scary bears were blended with visions of the future, where young 'uns might set off on the same trails some day looking for their family milk cow.

By the time the evening had ended and he had heard all those stories about Bossy, Brian Stevens, who's married to Tina Wood, who's Steve's daughter, said, "I think I'll get a milk cow."

Milk cow wisdom, along with a lot of hard work and family unity, has provided the Wood family a most impressive heritage.

Bill and I felt honored to be part of the celebration.

Tomorrow, I'll feature a poem about the family and the ranch, penned a few years ago by Leonard Wood.

For now, enjoy the images.

Come and get it!

Janice Wood Schoonover signals dinner time at Western Pleasure Guest Ranch.

Last night's gathering at Western Pleasure Guest Ranch was about these kids and their many cousins.

They're the beneficiaries of the Federally funded Forest Legacy program, which guarantees that a portion of their family's V Bar X Ranch will remain unscathed by outside development---forever.

They listened to how their elders had worked and enjoyed the land for generations and how they can do the same.

After a sumptuous meal, including prime rib and the trimmings, the youngest generation of V Bar X'ers served a delicious dessert to their elders.

Sometimes a little guy just plain tuckers out.

Granny Janice and her brother Dan have some fun with Miss Emily.

Emily, the youngest member of the V Bar X clan, but not for long.

More of her generation are on the way, within a few months, in fact.

Emily could be the youngest geocacher around because she had her "first find" when she was six weeks old.

It's documented with a photo on the www.geocaching.com website.

The youngest generation of Wood family members sat in the front row last night.

They listened to stories occurring on the V Bar X Ranch a few generations before their time.

More than anything they learned about the passion for the land which they'll be able to enjoy throughout their lives, thanks to the Forest Legacy program.

Fifth-generation participants.

Virginia and Jim Wood, matriarch and patriarch of the V Bar X Ranch.

Of course, we couldn't go to Western Pleasure without thinking about geocaching.

We gave our hosts, Roley and Janice Schoonover, each a geocaching cap so that they can be "in uniform" for future finds.

Janice wants Sandpoint to be the "Geocaching Capital of the World."

We think she's got a good idea.

Saturday Slight

I have really enjoyed this past week, and it looks like the enjoyment will continue. Tonight we're going to a celebration dinner at Western Pleasure Guest Ranch. The Jim Wood family has completed the second phase of having portions of their land accepted into a USDA Forest Legacy program, so they're celebrating.

Basically, that means that the plots identified and accepted into the program will be protected from development for perpetuity. The family can use the land for just as long, but it will remain unscathed by outside commercial interests. As the legacy program states, the Wood family's forest land will be protected from conversion to non-forest use.

The process of being accepted into the Federally funded program involves a detailed management plan and guidance from individuals in several different entities. So, when all comes to fruition, there's reason for celebration. Bill has been involved in both phases of the Wood family's application for the forest legacy status.

It should be a fun evening, as every visit to Western Pleasure tends to be.

~~~~
The week was filled with a bit of fun and a bit of the new. If I were to spotlight people of the week, I'd have to focus on Molly. She's Cheryl Klein's daughter who can now look back on her surgery to remove a cancerous tumor from her leg. Yesterday she posted several times on Facebook and wrote through the excruciating pain that she was relieved to be past the surgery and hopefully on the mend.

Molly has amassed a great following of Facebook friends who have been pulling for her complete recovery for the past several months. She has kept us all informed on virtually every aspect of her experience with the disease, including her emotions. Most of all, her positive approach to what could be a very depressing situation has been nothing less than impressive.

I'd also spotlight Marc, the reporter from Germany, who plans to come back to Sandpoint. He seemed to enjoy his brief stay here in the area and found enough material for further research to plan a trip back this way. We, of the journalism ilk, love meeting people like Marc, who serve as our professional heroes because they're out there, living the adventure, traveling the world in search of all the pieces to the story.

I'm starting to see photos taken by Annie's new camera, which she received Thursday. She has some posted at her Flickr site: (http://www.flickr.com/photos/nnlove) The clarity of the images will allow her to enlarge photos and eventually start selling them. So, if you're ever interested in an Annie Love original, bookmark her site.

Tomorrow Debbie will pick up her new touring bike. She ordered it, and it's now all ready for her in Spokane. She and her friend Paige from Boise are still focused on participating in the Seattle to Portland ride this July, and they're still maintaining their very informative biking blog at (www.thestpexperiment.blogspot.com)

Debbie's looking forward to training on the bike in the Bottle Bay area, which has ample hills and challenges to prepare her for the big event this summer.

And, speaking of biking, I've done some of my own this week. And, it has felt good enough that I've decided it's time to get the bike rack out and attach it to the back of the car. Haven't used the rack in quite some time, and the bolt that held it on the hitch had disappeared.

After what seemed like a simple fix and purchasing a much more convenient pin to hold on the hitch, I discovered that the hole didn't fit the pin. So, Bill has a project ahead to drill the hole a little bigger. Then, I'll be good to go wherever I want.

~~~~~
This doesn't happen very often, but for some reason my writing juices are feeling mighty flat this morning. Maybe it's a lame latte, or maybe it's knowing there's a lot on the agenda today and sitting here at the computer is not getting it done.

So, I'll listen to my gut and draw this to a close before it goes from flat to downright subpar.

As for Helen and Susie who commented on yesterday's Super Bowl blog, I appreciate your thoughts but----you need to get a grip on reality and start seeing golden halos, not silver horse shoes.

Go SAINTS, even if it is a week off. And, by all means, GO ZAGS tonight! Let's shoot for 18-3.

Calling All Saints: Newton's Apple Has Worm Holes

Indianapolis Colts? Who Dat?

My friend, Helen Newton, sent some prognostications to the Bonner County Daily Bee, and they got printed in the sports section this morning.

She sez the Colts are gonna decimate the Saints just like Katrina did the Big Easy.

Now, dem's fightin' words!

Helen, who just went off City Council a week ago, has found a new way to play with facts and figures and relativity.

Well, I've got relativity. And, Helen, you've got problems!

My relativity feels pretty saintly lately, and when my relativity spots holes in a present-day Newton's logic, it's time to talk.

I'm sorry Helen, but I can't take a bite out of your prognostication apple when it comes to who dem players are dat's gonna win the Super Bowl. Your apple fell far from the tree of wisdom on this one.

Hail Mary, full of grace, you Methodist friend of mine, I'm sorry, but it's gonna be Saints all da way!

Let me plead my case, and let's still be friends when this is all over. In fact, here's the deal, Helen.

After the Saints win the Super Bowl, I'll take you down to Trinity and you can order up a big bowl of gumbo, compliments of me.

If the Colts win, you have to buy me the biggest cheeseburger Hoot Owl has to offer.

And, yeah, I really like hamburger. I don't particularly care for Jumbalaya cuz of the the rice and the creepy critters they put in it.

And, on your literary point, Truman Capote sure did write some compelling fiction but so did William Faulkner (not my fav but he's pretty famous and he did get his start in the Big Easy).

When you talk musicians, you totally forget about Louie and Wynton. For Heaven's Sake, Wynton even came here to Sandpoint . . . a coupla times and played pick-up basketball at Lakeview Park with some of the high school kids.

Doesn't that, as a former City Council person who watched over what happens in City Parks, doesn't that mean anything to you, Helen?

I'll grant that Midwestern roots are nice; in fact, that's all that runs through my veins, but, gollee gee, Helen, my kids are half Luziannan! How could I lend your predictions my full support with that kind of relativity? Huh???

And, one thing you didn't even mention in your flawed reasoning, Helen, was horses vs. halos.

Now, that would have won some points with me cuz I know a lot more about horses than I do saints. After all, I'll be the first to admit that "I ain't no Saint."

But I married a "saint" FROM Luzianna, and, on this one, I'll have to just leave the horses in the barnyard nibbling on their hay, open all the other gates and let those Saints go rushing in.

Helen, with all due respect to you, my dear friend, I think you got it wrong on this one.

And, since the City Council won't touch that "no texting in town" ordinance you put before them before ending your tenure, I'd happily text you a message on my cell phone out here in Selle:

SAINTS ALL THE WAY!

Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez

A Yaak attack while driving Mother Tibbs

It was a perfect day for a drive yesterday.

So, I went over, backed Mother's car out of the garage, and off we went.

We drove north to Bonners Ferry and stopped for a treat at the Bread Basket Bakery, operated and owned by Mennonites.

We had a fresh donuts and watched many plates of fresh bread sandwiches, stuffed with meats, cheese, lettuce, etc., on their way to the tables which were buzzing with the lunch crowd. The place was filled, so we ate our donut, drank our coffee and headed east toward Montana.

The plan was to take the Bull River Loop, which includes some spectacular scenes of the Cabinet Mountains, some iced over lakes and the beautiful Bull River, which winds its way through huge meadows.

We took a slight detour up the Yaak highway. I figured the falls would be pretty, and they were.

Yaak is a tiny destination town in Northwest Montana, home of the Dirty Shame Saloon and a few stores as well as lots of outlying incomparable beauty.

After taking pictures of the falls, we moved on and once so I could try to snap some shots of some shy elk.

We had a nice lunch at Mom's Restaurant in Clark Fork, and sure enough, Bobby Kennedy, the Sandpoint native, walked in, just like he did at approximately the same time the last time we stopped there. As usual, we enjoyed visiting with him.

Mom's is a fun place where you feel totally at home while enjoying the soups, sandwiches and desserts.

We were back home by 4 p.m. and quite satisfied with our fun drive. The Bull River Loop is a wonderful way for travelers to see the beauty of both North Idaho and Western Montana. It takes only four leisurely hours from start to finish, unless you stop a time or two.

Oh, I wish I had the camera that's coming to Annie's house today.

Today she'll receive her new large frame digital camera, and I'm betting that this photo, taken with that camera and all its clarity, would be something to behold.

Still, Yaak Falls, viewed any time of the year and photographed by any ol' camera, are worth the 8-mile trip up the Yaak River Road from HWY 2 in Northwestern Montana.

Mother saw an optical illusion of a dancer in this scene. Can you pick it out?

Frothy falls within the Yaak Falls

The Yaak moves on its way toward the Kootenai River.

Where's the elk?

Actually there were about half a dozen. I saw one out of the corner of my eye while driving by.

So, I turned around and came back to see the single elk had friends. They were a bit camera shy.

This photo was taken just north of Bull Lake in Western Montana.

When the phone doesn't ring . . . .

Our phone has been relatively quiet lately. In fact, the caller ID shows only one call for yesterday and fewer than ten calls over the past three days. In yesterday's case, it was a call back after I'd left a number to arrange an appointment.

I haven't really minded this comparative silence, but, at times, I wonder if it's a sign of how my professional future may go. After all, freelancing opportunities are pretty unpredictable.

I remember an October week the fall after I had retired of reaching a point when deadlines had been met, all loose ends had been tied up, and the phone quit ringing so often.

At that time, I assumed that surely the end of my professional relevance had arrived. I worried because I was only 55 at the time, and it was nice to earn a little extra money. A few days later, my worries dissipated as the phone began to sound off again with assignments, requests, etc.

This year the phone has stopped ringing for a number of reasons. Most obviously, things get done by email more often than by phone. Also, freelance opportunities have dried up again.

In one case, I turned down an opportunity to engage in a big writing job because of where a major portion of the work would need to occur. Too far from home, too much time spent away. Knowing the other responsibilities on my plate requiring me to be close at hand, I declined the opportunity.

Still, I felt a little guilty and a bit uneasy that this decision might shut the door for other less demanding writing gigs. I don't know if that assumption will turn out to be true, but for now, I'm feeling a sense of calm that I haven't known in years. And, it's not all that bad.

It's nice that the phone isn't ringing so often with requests, but there's the other side of the coin too. Relevance. I think we all worry at times about just when ours will begin fading. And, a sure sign is when the phone doesn't ring.

At times like this, I've learned it's important to reassess our relevance. Is the constant grind of putting out story after story after story my only relevance in life? Well, it's a big one, for sure, but there are the other dimensions of what we do on this earth also. Seems like we often cast them aside as secondary concerns.

And, when it comes down to it, I believe those concerns are just as important. The difference is they seldom net a paycheck or a headline. Of late, I've been quite happy to have an open schedule, like the one I'm facing today. The weather is nice, the roads are clear, and I think it's time to take my mother for a drive.

No paycheck, no headline, but I'm betting the benefits will far outweigh either of the aforementioned. It will make her day. She'll get out of the house, and she'll have new and different experiences to share with friends and family. Plus, we'll probably have a good time because my mother LOVES road trips.

The beauty in all this is that I have no set agenda, and I don't know which way I'm going to steer that car. That suspense adds to the anticipation of the day ahead.

This week I've also had time to brew up some more of my apple jelly, which I like to give as gifts when people do nice things for us. I've gotten a good start on my second planter for the front yard. I've ridden my horse. The bird feeders are cleaned out so that the stinky muck will not deter them from enjoying a good meal of sunflower seeds.

Heck, I even had time yesterday to spend 45 minutes learning about an exciting concept a local friend is pursuing. That lesson took place at Yoke's parking lot, where I'm sure a lot of important business, news and opinion gets discussed.

I've also accomplished several other projects this week to benefit those other than myself, and it's feeling rather satisfying. As I said to one friend this week, I'm enjoying life. The reality is, however, that there will come a time when I want to enjoy life which involves spending some money.

Maybe by the time that comes, the phone will have rung again, and I'll once again be overwhelmed with too much work, too many deadlines and that all-too-familiar stress load. For now, however, I'm breathing easy.

And, the silence from that telephone is golden.

Tuesday Twitterdeedum

I noticed the beginnings of daylight this morning while walking out to get the papers AND it wasn't any later than usual. Good signs, I say. I've also heard "CHEEEEZE BURGER" birds singing their lovely tunes.

The sounds and the light are coming back, and that is always a good thing in the north country. Some sounds have actually remained through the winter. Those would be coming from the squirrels.

They've had an easy time of it, and they've been keeping our Border Collies busy almost every day in that line-up of spruce trees between our place and Meserve's.

In fact, the dogs have been feeling pretty comfortable spending more and more time on the other side of the fence, following squirrel chatter and maintaining stare-downs with the little buggers in the trees above them.

I guess it's okay that they're over there, but I'm betting when Bert Wood's cows return in the spring, they'll be staying on the Lovestead side of the fence.

After all, it's electric.

~~~~~~
My visit with Marc (now I know his correctly spelled name) Hujer was fun yesterday. He came to the Lovestead. We chatted for a while here, and I handed him a fresh-baked brownie and a computer copy of the story I wrote about Sarah Palin and her Sandpoint Hospital nurserymates from February, 1964, Tom Albertson and Joe Parenteau. He was thrilled to have that.

What really excited him, however, was last Friday's Cedar Post. ASIDE: Cedar Post, just yesterday established itself on Facebook, if anyone who's a Facebooker is interested in befriending the newspaper.

I showed Marc the feature story written by the young lady after her interview with Sarah when she came to Sandpoint for her book signing.

Marc followed me to the Samuels Store, and like most folks, was pleasantly surprised with the lovely restaurant inside. We talked for about half an hour, and then he headed off for Coeur d'Alene.

Marc made a point of hurrying back from a meeting in Coeur d'Alene to meet Willie and pick up his own copies of the Cedar Post. He met the school principal and even Tom Albertson. Afterward, Marc even said he may come back to Sandpoint to meet the student author of the Sarah Palin story.

I told Willie that it's experiences like that which make teaching so exciting. I'd give anything to see the expression on the young reporter's face when Willie informs her that a political reporter from Germany is excited about her work.

Willie made a point of stressing a quote in the story by Sarah Palin that said something to the effect of "Be proud that you've grown up in a small town."

And, that seems to be precisely the focus of some of Marc's research. He asked me several questions related to the "small town" of Sandpoint. I also think he's already established his own love affair with this area after just a couple of days here.

From Sandpoint, he was headed back to Washington, D.C. where he's covering another story for Der Spiegel.

~~~~~
Yesterday's events inspired me to search Facebook to see if my journalist friend Barbara Sofer is a member. Sure enough, she is, and it will be fun to check her wall because she includes her travels around Jerusalem. Pretty cool.

~~~~~
I wanted to mention that Molly Klein of Sandpoint would appreciate your prayers this week. Two sets of Love couples (Willie, Debbie, Bill and me) visited with Molly and her parents, Jim and Cheryl, Sunday night.

This Thursday, after several chemotherapy treatments, Molly, who's 25 and a flight attendant for Continental Airlines, will have a tumor removed from her leg by surgeons at the University of Washington. The hope is that with chemo reducing the size of the tumor and some post-operative chemo, Molly can return to her normal life.

To say Molly is vibrant would be an understatement. To say she is funny would be an understatement. To say she leaves a positive impression everywhere she goes would also be . . . yes, an understatement.

This young lady, who's as self-deprecating as they come, entertained us for two hours with her stories of dealing with cancer and taking on life in general.

We all felt our two hours spent with Molly the other evening was a special treat, and we're all pulling for her and her staff of caring medical experts that all will go well.

When this is all over, she wants to become a doctor herself and maybe work with Doctors without Borders. For now, and all through her cancer treatments, she's been volunteering at Seattle Children's Hospital.

Jim and Cheryl have many reasons to be proud.

~~~~~

I guess that's it for today. I know there are lots of other things floating through my mind on this brisk morning, but I'll just leave them to fester and head on to do the barn chores. Happy Tuesday.

The journalistic gifts that keep on giving

I'm meeting with a German journalist today. He's here working on some research about Sarah Palin. I couldn't hear his last name very clearly on the answering machine, but I do know to call him Mark. He called yesterday afternoon, simply stating who he was, whom he represented and that he'd like to meet me.

He left his number, so I called him back. After the introductory niceties of "How are you? Etc.," Mark asked, "Can I meet you?"

"First, I need to know for what reason," I said.

Apologetic for not explaining himself completely in the answering machine message, he told me about his Sarah Palin research. He'd learned that I'd written a story about her and he wanted to talk with me about it.

Figuring we'd hit the dead end of our encounter, I explained to him that if he looked closely at the story in Sandpoint Magazine, I had included very few first-hand sources, adding that the closest I'd come to the family was the previous year's Christmas letter sent out by Sarah's parents to their Sandpoint friends.

Mike Winslow, the downtown barber and friend of Chuck Heath, had provided me that document. The rest, I explained, came from museum research and talking to "people who knew people . . . . I explained that possible firsthand sources, especially those I knew up in Alaska, had dried up almost immediately after Sarah had been named as Sen. John McCain's Vice Presidential candidate.

"I'm afraid I would not be of much value to you," I told him.

"Okay," he said, "but I'd still like to meet you and talk to you about Sandpoint, the place where she was born."

Agreeing that I could certainly talk about Sandpoint, I asked, "Okay, where do you want to meet and when?"

We still haven't finalized that, but it will be sometime, some place this morning after I finish my chores and make sure everything's going okay with my mother.

After our conversation yesterday, I thought about the article I wrote for the Idaho Press Tribune, focusing on Sarah and her birthmates, Joe Parenteau and Tom Albertson. I figured Mark would enjoy reading that story. Later, I remembered the interview I saw in last week's latest edition of the SHS Cedar Post and figured I'd send him over to Willie to get a copy of that.

After all, I've been told, that was the only interview she granted during her visit to Sandpoint in December. Certainly, the venerable German weekly would love to review the works of a high school student who landed the big interview with the biggest name ever to be hatched in Sandpoint.

So, I look at the two reasons this man wanted to talk to me, and I see both topics as journalism gifts that keep on giving. I've had several experiences visiting with outside writers curious about Sandpoint.

Barbara Sofer, for example, a noted journalist in Jerusalem, came several years ago on a Women's Day assignment when I was advising the Cedar Post. We met for an hour or two and became good friends, via cyberspace, comparing our journalistic adventures and talking family. I also learned a lot about her religious rituals.

My meeting with Laura Finnegan, the Sunset Magazine editor, along with three other locals, a few years back, was notable. The resulting short piece about the West's Best Small Town's, gleaned from a morning walk around town, put Sandpoint on the national and world map in a very favorable light. Other media followed as did newcomers.

Most recently, I enjoyed a day spent with Rich Benjamin, a fellow at a New York-based think tank called Demos. Rich's extended visits to this area and three others in Utah, Georgia and New York, provided the fodder for his recently released book Searching for Whitopia. We've kept in touch ever since.

So, yes, Sandpoint is a journalism gift that keeps on giving, and when I talk about the place, I try to dispel the untrue stuff that has been so recklessly spread "out there" by those I refer to as "hit-and-run" journalists.

Often, they show up, go talk to some people in the bars, get a few correct and a few questionable but hot-button facts, enjoy the beauty and head back to wherever, writing whatever they wish, skewing it however they want and feeling no remorse when facts are wrong. After all, it's been a one-night journalist stand, and they're off to the next story.

Sarah Palin has certainly turned into a huge journalistic gift, and she continues to do so. Like her or hate her, people would certainly agree that virtually any move she makes incites news and public interest. I remember sitting in the museum one day, shortly after her name hit the national and world headlines, suggesting that any trivia connected to Sarah be collected.

I still believe that. And, I also still and will always cringe about my most public and worst journalistic error, which occurred when I photographed the WRONG house as Sarah's first home in Sandpoint. I knew at the time the error was revealed that it would come back to haunt me, and many times over.

As the Sarah gift continues to give generously to all the curious writers throughout the world, Sandpoint and that original home of hers behind Safeway will continue to conjure up interest. And, this old gal, who screwed up, will have to contend with the fact that her photographic blunder was tantamount to the Original Sin for journalists.

After all, my mistake started it all, and it will have to be explained over and over and over as these writers visit our fair city. "No, it's not that house; it's the one next door."

I don't know what today's meeting with Mark of Der Spiegel will entail, but you can be sure I'll make sure he knows which one is the right house where Sarah lived her first few months.

Stay tuned.

Weekend Stuff

Horse of the Week: Miss Heather

She stayed in her stall two nights in a row, and last night she didn't even try to open the latch.

Maybe I'm winning this stalling contest.

All the horses spent the afternoon and night without their blankets.

They even got to spend some time in the round pen for a change of pace.

Heather and Lefty got some haircuts, and Heather went with me for a walk down the road.

Yesterday was so much like a spring day that I could almost imagine flowers blooming.

Well, that's a bit premature, especially cuz this morning I see snowflakes out my window.

We haven't wasted the springlike weather, though, as shown below.

Before going to my sisters' house for the Gonzaga game yesterday, we took a creek trip to this Fish and Game property to find a geocache.

We call it the "Albertson Property" because it results from a land-acquisition agreement between the Albertson family and the Fish and Game.

This piece of beautiful land can be accessed from the Gold Creek Road, not far from Colburn-Culver Road east so Sandpoint.

Yesterday's adventure was not without some complaining. That happened with I slid down an icy embankment and landed really hard on my rear end. Not only did it hurt, but my entire back side was covered with mud.

Still, it was a fun hike cuz the cache was nearly .6 of a mile from the parking lot, and we enjoyed a lot of pretty sights along the way.

I think there are two caches on this property, but our time was limited, so we found only one.

Bill sets off in search of a cache.

Grandpapa's cache. First-to-find was Janice Schoonover, owner of Western Pleasure Guest Ranch.

Gold Creek flowing toward "The Pack."

If you've lost a glove, I can tell you where it's hanging.

Pack River, just beyond where Gold Creek empties into it.

Headin' home after a Grandpapa geocache find.

January lettuce crop, planted Monday.

I bought a grow light Monday and planted three different varieties of lettuce in this tray that afternoon.

It was up by Wednesday.

Grow lights are the answer to those of us who just can't wait 'til spring.

Saturday Slight

Looks like another nice day for this Saturday. I'm looking at the calendar and remembering that I'd be calling up my friend Joy O'Donnell on this day to wish her a happy birthday. Sadly, I haven't been able to do that for a few years, but the date evokes some fun memories of a longtime friend and fellow educator.

There are still moments several years after her death when a question on the local genealogical wall chart arises, and I think that Joy could certainly answer it or steer me in the right direction.

Thankfully, I still have a few friends "in the know" who provide much needed local trivia when the need arises.

~~~~~
Yesterday's open schedule netted all desired results. The young gray mare ain't the escape artist she used to be, thanks to some added measures to keep her confined to her stall over night. Still, she made gallant efforts.

I put a chain latch on the outside of the door to go along with the twine and the regular "tough-to-open" latch. After coming home from dinner last night, I went out to check. She was flat out in her stall snoozing when I walked into the barn. Nonetheless, she had been busy, and she had once more opened the tough latch, but the twine and chain were holding tight.

For good measure, I added another piece of twine, running it through a little hole on the end of the difficult latch, figuring that if she worked it loose again, the twine would hold it where it needed to be. HA!

This morning, the latch was once again open, the second piece of twine was lying on the floor and the aforementioned effective deterrents were still in place. Don't know about that girl, and I'd still love to know how she does it.

But she stayed in the stall, and that's satisfying enough for now.

~~~~~
My planter is as complete as it's going to be until spring. The hardest work yesterday was prying the boards from the ice where they've been stacked, but they eventually came loose, and they're nailed to the corner posts on the planter. That turned out to be a nice week's labor. Can't wait to figure out what I'm going to put in it come spring.

For now, though, I'll have to wait.

In the meantime, the lettuce, planted Monday and placed beneath my new grow light, is up and thriving. Actually, the up segment came by Wednesday morning. That was a good stroke of business for this frustrated gardener. It should soothe my needs until a reasonable time comes along to actually get serious about playing in the outside dirt.

~~~~~
Yesterday was a great day on Facebook. When I made my comment about classmate bonds the other day, another classmate Janet wrote and said she'd been trying to find me on Facebook. I explained to her that we Sandpoint FB'ers are listed as Spokane. She did find me. We are now FB friends, and the day turned out to be a bonanza.

In addition to Janet, I'm now friends with Laura Delamarter, whom I've known the longest of any classmate or friend on this earth. My friend Susan Tate agreed to be my FB buddy as did Gretta Fletcher.

Since the addition of those four classmates to my personal roster, I've checked out some of Gretta's photography. It's phenomenal, and I don't think she'd mind if I posted her Flickr account, where she has posted several pages worth of photos, ranging from dancing to nature to wildlife.
(http://www.flickr.com/photos/30775306@N02/)

~~~~~
Yesterday also turned out great because I went for a ten-mile bike ride through the Selle Valley. Normally, it would be an easy ride, but yesterday, although pretty, was windy. I thought the wind was coming from the east when I first started pedaling down Selle Road, so I figured the return ride would be easy.

I realized, while heading back and turning north off from Jacobson Road onto East Shingle Mill Road, the heavy, pounding gusts were coming straight out of the north instead.

That was a long grind, to say the least, but I just kept drawing inspiration through mental visions of people I've known who stuck with it through hard times. Their images powered me on, and when I turned back onto Selle Road, the ride suddenly seemed like a piece of cake. It was a tough workout but well worth the effort.
~~~~~~
This morning I read the latest Cedar Post. The kids are doing a fabulous job with the paper, i.e., fun layout and well-written thoughtful stories, ranging from interviews with Sarah Palin and her father Chuck Heath to stories about the Holland brothers, one of whom has clinched a spot on the Winter Olympics snowboarding team.

The opinion pieces in the latest edition represent diverse views and logical reasoning behind the views. There's a photo collage of the carpentry class at work on their house project, and there's a very touching back-page tribute to Will Johnson, a student who died in a skiing accident at Schweitzer last month.

I really enjoyed reading the paper and was impressed with the level to which the kids have risen over this school year. Good job, Willie and staff! The paper is available at several venues, including Babs and Second Avenue Pizza parlors and Slate's.

So, check it out, and those kids are looking for donations to their national journalism convention in Portland this April. So, if you feel so inclined, I'm sure they'd be thrilled with anyone's generosity. Just contact Mr. Love at the high school for further details!

As one who worked with Cedar Post kids for seven years, I can assure folks that they work hard throughout the year, and they derive many, many benefits from attending the national conventions.

~~~~~
Okay, enough advertising for the Cedar Post, time to move on to another love, the ZAGS. They have another game this afternoon at 5. Laurie says we're having pizza for the big family weekend get-together. The usual drill is to watch the first half while nibbling and then at halftime to get into serious eating. We top it off with a dessert.

It's become a fun routine over the past couple of years, and the crowd varies in size. Size doesn't seem to make any difference with the intensity and enthusiasm within the room.

~~~~~
So, I'd better get out and enjoy this day. Happy Saturday and GO ZAGS!

Open schedule

My day is all mine today, at least for now. Once more it's been a busy, on-the-go week, so today marks a welcome change. One never knows, however, when outside factors will upset the best laid non-plans.

I experienced that lesson for the umpteenth time this morning when I went to the barn. Cracking open the big door, I immediately noticed something out of place. The brush used for scrubbing cars, which is usually stored in a big box near the wall, was lying in my path. It had not been there when I left last night, so I knew a moment of Marianne's cussing was in order.

I turned on the light, and the needed decibel level for nasty words flinging from my lips went up several notches. Yup, she'd opened her stall door again and had made a REAL mess this time.

"She" is Heather, the newest horse on the block. Once painfully shy Heather has changed a lot during her year here at the Lovestead. This innocent-looking, adorable gray filly used to jump at her shadow. Of late, she's developed a healthy sense of assertiveness (especially with Lefty) and numerous sneaky ways.

She has also developed a keen sense for opening a gate which takes extra muscle power and a few grunts each time for me to latch shut or to pull open. Since her first escape a few weeks ago, that tough-to-latch gate also gets tied firmly with twine each night after Heather enters and begins eating her grain.

She broke out one other time this week, when I tied the gate with just a single knot. Fortunately, her escape had occurred very late in the night or early in the morning. Most of the stuff in the aisle had not been disturbed, except the grain barrel, which really isn't grain, but the horses think it is.

Since she'd already had her breakfast, I led her out to the barnyard that day and resolved to tie that twine tighter from now on. Last night, after putting her in her stall, something prompted me to take extra measures with my knots.

Well, a lotta good that did!

Adding to the frustration, her escape from stall occurred only two apple piles into the night. When I opened the barn door, I spotted at least three substantial poop piles throughout the main walkway. Straw from the one bale I own was scattered about, and the newly dumped pile of shavings stretched from wall to wall in the middle of the aisle.

Barn implements were strewn about, and, yes, the lid to the all-breeds pellets was not on top of the barrel. The container had been licked clean. Of course, the fact that it contained less than a grain bucket full of goodies provided one bright light in the midst of the mess Heather had created for me to clean up.

Once again, she went straight to the barnyard with no extra breakfast treats. The other two, who had obviously paced their stalls, scattering horse apples every which way during fits of jealousy, were treated to their breakfast treat, in this case, real grain, which Heather didn't know was in the other barrel.

I've got most of the mess cleaned up, and from now on, Heather will have a chain around her gate, in addition to the stubborn latch. I still can't figure out why my hands along with brute strength can barely work that latch, while Heather's dainty little Arabian lips open it with ease. Must be a Houdini gene mixed in.

Well, so far, I've made it through part of today's posting, and no other outside forces have pulled me away from this writing project. When I sign off, I'll go finish the barn clean-up and do the chores for another night of horse lodging. I'll bring in the wood and then return to the computer to polish up my next River Journal column. It's all in place, but the finesse part needs some work.

Then, I hope to finish the planter, which has been taking shape throughout the week, in between runs to town. Yesterday I carefully loaded on the back of the pickup and hauled its two ends, connected by one board to the front yard.

My ever-developing common sense told me it would not be wise to build the whole thing (12 feet by 4 feet) and then try to move it to the front yard where it not only hold plant-life but will also cover up some ugly stumps remaining from the thorny buffalo berry bushes Bill sawed down in late 2008.

Plus, that yard is a sheet of ice, so I reasoned that it would be easy to slide the partially completed monstrosity into place. And, by golly it was.

Since then, I've been carrying boards out there, nailing them to the structure and standing back to admire my self-constructed and somewhat rustic planter. If all goes well, by this afternoon, it should be finished and ready to be loaded up with dirt and some pretty flowers. Those two items may wait until spring.

It's been fun, and it ain't purty, but it's cheap and I don't think it's going to fall apart very soon. So, I'm enjoying some satisfaction.

Again, here in North Idaho we remain amazed with what we've been able to accomplish in January, and if the day continues to be clear and crisp, I'll probably go for a bike ride too.

Nice to have an open schedule for the day and an open winter. Happy Friday to all.

Classmate bonds and birthdays

As mentioned before, Facebook adds huge dimensions to its members' lives. I've noticed in the past year that some folks use the social networking site simply to play games, featuring the Mafia or various renditions of farming. They do well at it too because we're always privy to announcements of success on the game front.

Others use it to advertise. Some are more subtle than others; in fact, some are downright geniuses at sprinkling in some advertising for their product/service along with the usual tales of mundane activities throughout the day.

The site serves as a great tool for insomniacs. If ya can't sleep, you can go to the computer at 3 a.m. and tell the world. Someone will be out there, either in a time zone eons of miles away or a few miles down the road, sitting at the computer screen agonizing over the same brand of sleeplessness.

My favorite aspect of Facebook is the connections and the daily updates about people I know and care about. Sometimes the information is trivial; sometimes not. Sometimes, Facebook friends share factoids eliciting concern from others. And, in some cases, they put out statements with just enough information to spark more questions.

"You're moving?" "Well, where are you moving?"

"Tell the whole story, please."

In other cases, the information just doesn't jive. I was at Willie and Debbie's house waiting for the Appliance Doctor to come and fix their dryer yesterday when I fired up my laptop and read some stuff on Facebook. Molly Klein, who lives just below Willie and Debbie, had a recent post, informing everyone that she was at Starbucks.

A few minutes later, I was out walking the dogs when I spotted Molly in their driveway, walking to her car. Knowing there's no Starbucks at Bottle Bay, I had to inquire.

"I thought you were at Starbucks," I said, holding back Border Collies who wanted to and eventually did jump all over Molly.

"I'm headed there now," she told me. Guess Molly wanted to stay ahead of the game, and I guess that some of the stuff we read from "five minutes ago" on Facebook isn't exactly in "real time."

Indeed, the site means many things to many people. One constant is the daily list of birthdays---today, tomorrow, Saturday, etc. Sometimes I notice them; sometimes I don't.

Yesterday, however, I noticed something I hadn't known in the past. My classmates, Janis Puzuhanich Clarke and Robin Melior Bernhardt, have birthdays on the same day---today, in fact. I knew their birthdays were close together, and I knew another classmate Andrea Balch Boyle was right in the mix, but the Facebook revelation of two birthdays in one day made me smile.

After all, Robin, Janis and I have kept fairly close track of each other the past year, not only through this blog but also on Facebook. It's been fun, and it was especially fun when Robin and I could track Janis in her month-long travels last summer with her three dogs from Palm Desert, through the Southwest, on to Montana, then Idaho and then down to the Columbia River where Robin lives.

We both had a fairly good idea when to expect her, and when she showed up, we each enjoyed a wonderful visit. I think the most special aspect of Facebook has been the renewal of classmate bonds. Next to family, and in some cases even more so, our classmates remain firmly planted in our hearts throughout our lives.

It's hard to explain exactly why except that we experienced so many similar stories and events while growing up. Many times we spent as much time with our classmates as we did with our own families. I got to know Robin in junior high when many of us Class of '65 members converged on the old junior high, now the Sandpoint Events Center.

And, Janis moved to Sandpoint during high school. The three of us ran with slightly different crowds, but our crowds blended in many arenas, and we were friends.

Of course, the classroom settings, where we all formed universal opinions about the teachers and some of us acted accordingly, provided colorful anecdotal reasons to bond for life. Same was true with noontime and hallway activities during all those years of attending junior high and high school together.

It's been 45 years since we all set off on our separate life journeys, coming together only during the reunions or occasional sightings around town. Still, that close bond holds strong. I believe in many cases, it has intensified as we've continued to live the chapters of our lives.

I think there's an unwritten appreciation for the fact that we were thrown into together so long ago to be carefully programmed for the future. When the future unfolded, often with unforseen and unwelcome challenges or with trends very foreign to anything we'd been trained to face, somehow we survived.

At this point in life, there's a sense of relief that we, once floundering young souls, have done all right in spite of whatever's been flung our way.

So, as classmates, we can rejoice in our individual successes because we all started in the same general setting, and though many of us are far apart in geography, we still share a myriad of common interests and loving respect. Hard to explain actually, but I know one thing for sure.

I appreciate my classmates, and I consider them extended family. So, to George in Maryland who sent an update letter on his life happenings a few days ago, and to Robin, Janis and Andrea, who all celebrate birthdays this week, I wish you the best and send you my love.

And, now it's time to check out the latest Facebook revelations.

Women's Day

I did not attend the Selle Club meeting yesterday. It was at Jackie Peterson's house on Selle Road, beginning at 11 a.m. Dione called me last week to tell me about it and encouraged me to come. I've been hit-and-miss over the last year or so with Selle Club, usually because something else, like a story deadline, stands in the way.

Selle Club meetings also involve preparing a potluck dish for the luncheon. Considering that and knowing I had two other meetings to attend yesterday, I decided to take the easy route and skip the first meeting of the day. That allowed me to get a few things done around here, including the addition of electric wire to several chewed-up fence posts around the barnyard.

For some reason, January is prime fence-chewing time for horses. They're defiant about it too. I fling a snowball and an insulting message to Lily as she's eyeing me head-on and chewing away like a beaver. She reacts with a dirty look, a run the other direction, a rear and then a quick trip back to the post to resume her chewing.

So, yesterday's goal was to save some of the half-eaten posts that hold up the nice boards. Those nice boards are covered with ridges where teeth have been gnawing away for no other reason than to gnaw-----maybe to drive me crazy too. After adding some wire in strategic places and plugging in the fence charger, I watched.

Those horses know when new strategies are employed, and it takes them a lot of watching to figure it all out. They want to touch but they know better. So, I was minimally successful and will remain so until they figure out the next tricky way to get at the wood.

With that and other errands accomplished, including a BIKE RIDE IN JANUARY (can't believe it), I cleaned up and headed for town to attend the first meeting of the Women Honoring Women at Kathy Chambers' home and the leaders meeting for Girl Scout Service Unit 402 at Community Hall.

In both cases, the members were revving up for busy months ahead. Saturday, June 19 at the Tango Restaurant in Panhandle State Bank has been set for this year's Women Honoring Women luncheon. Soon information about the program will be hitting the media. Well, sooner than that, it has hit Slight Detour, so tell them you heard it here first.

Each year the program honors women over 65 who have made positive contributions to the community and who exhibit overall exemplary qualities, including interest in education, compassion for others, a clear sense of direction and generosity in their tangible and intangible gestures toward others.

The greatest satisfaction on the part of the Women Honoring Women is to find the "diamonds in the rough," i.e. unsung, deserving heroines who would be totally floored by such an honor. Once five women are chosen, they're recognized through newspaper features and as guests of honor at the annual luncheon. In addition, the sponsoring organization takes time to get to know them through other social functions.

So, if local readers have any ideas for this year, be looking for the upcoming announcements and submit your nominations.

My second meeting of the night at Community Hall involved a lot of women and several young women who came along with moms who were meeting to learn the multitude of details dealing with the multitude of Girl Scout activities coming up over the next few months. Participants last night came from Bonners Ferry and Bonner County.

I attended this meeting to glean some information for my next column, which will spotlight my daughter-in-law Debbie who's the program and member development coordinator for Eastern Washington and Northern Idaho. I was impressed with the enthusiasm, and I learned that my learning curve about Girl Scouts is pretty steep.

I know, after attending the meeting, that the program involves a lot of energy and dedication on the part of its adults. It's already apparent that many of the women I saw last night give inordinate amounts of time and energy to provide opportunities for the scouts of all ages.

In a nutshell, I was impressed. And, of course, I liked the fact that they're very business-like, but they still like to have some fun. One leader dressed up in a Samoa cookie costume for me. That was after a mother/leader yelled out into the main hall to her daughter to come into the meeting room.

The daughter was astute.

"I'm not coming in there to dress up like a cookie," she yelled back.

Later, when she saw a camera flashing inside the room, she changed her mind and donned another colorful costume for me to photograph.

All in all, my day of meeting with women who are doing things for other women was both inspiring and fun. Lots of energy out there and good things to come in the months ahead.
And, that includes Girl Scout cookie sales in February. Get ready!

Anachronism in North Idaho

Yes, this photo was taken yesterday, in North Idaho.

Yes, it is January.

Yes, it was wonderful to enjoy a day that reached the 50s in nearby Spokane.

No, it was not comfy to be wearing my lined pants while walking through yesterday's January sunshine.

Yes, I was glad I had those pants while sitting in the shade.

Yes, it's amazing that we would see such scenes on January 18, 2010, but we did.

And, we loved it.

We actually went out planting yesterday: a geocache, that is.

And, by the way, I also planted some lettuce with my new grow light.

Our geocache seed sowing took place along the Clark Fork River on a trail laid out by Avista Corp., which supplies a lot of power to this area.

As I write, however, that power is not working throughout Ponderay and all of Sandpoint.

Our Northern Light's supply north of town is doing just fine, thank you.

Anyway, this trail is beautiful, and it now has a geocache hidden and yet to appear on the geocaching site.

So, you'll have to wait for the geocaching gods to approve it. For now, it looks like another nice January day here.

So, if you're hankering for a hike, Avista has provided you a nice one along a beautiful river.

Of course, you'll have to have your power on to read about it.

Happy Tuesday to all.

Trees along the trail.

A view from along Avista's Clark Fork River trail: Cabinet Gorge Dam and the Cabinet Mountains in Montana.

Cabinet Gorge Dam was completed in the 1950s.

Avista Utility Co. tells you what you need to know if you use this trail along the Clark Fork River.

I call it a "couch potato" trail cuz it's pretty and level. It goes for quite a distance parallel to the river.

The entry roads to the trail are located off Hwy 200 east of Clark Fork, near Cabinet Gorge Dam. Avista says on another sign to "Keep it clean; keep it open."

The beautiful Clark Fork River, looking west from just below Cabinet Gorge Dam.

Geocache Farmer Loblolly Love, looking for a place to plant his seed/cache.

Large stone packaging operations go on just below this site east of Clark Fork.

Even these hillsides showed very little signs of winter.

A Bonners Ferry Geocaching adventure

We made lemonade out of sour lemon weather yesterday.

It was, as noted in yesterday's post, a gloomy, wet day.

We headed for Bonners Ferry where the weather is always better than Sandpoint's, at least most of the time.

We were amazed that when we hit the weather dividing line at Elmira, it got darker, wetter and whiter.

Gloomy drizzle turned into gloomy snow. Even the expansive Kootenai Valley was white, surrounded by socked-in mountains.

Still, we caught a few dry moments and enjoyed an afternoon of geocaching.

This was our first find on the Meadow Creek Road northeast of Bonners Ferry.

I told Bill I had heard that this old cabin on Dawson Lake was once a teacherage, but I'm not swearing by it.

It was a great adventure for an ugly Sunday. We came home renewed and refreshed.

That's what geocaching and trips to Bonners Ferry usually do for us.

One of the geocaches we found yesterday was just inside the fence for this old school, turned beautiful Bed and Breakfast, on the north hill in Bonners Ferry.

Our dad Harold Tibbs attended this school in the 1920s, and his dad served as principal for a time.

More information about the Bed and Breakfast is available at (http://www.northsideschoolbedandbreakfast.com/)

The restoration is exquisite.

After finding a geocache, the finder signs the log inside the container.

In Bill's case, he uses a special stamp denoting "Loblolly Love," created for him by Annie.

As a young man, growing up in Bonners Ferry, our dad, Harold Tibbs, rode horses for the Kootenai Tribe interpreter, Simon Francis.

A view of the railroad track under the bridge at Bonners Ferry.

Bill holds a cache found along a trail on the north side of the bridge of the Kootenai River at Bonners Ferry.

It was dreary, but even on a dreary day the Kootenai National Wildlife Refuge northwest of Bonners Ferry provides a lovely setting for a walk during any season of the year.

A Gray Day in the Life

The endless gray is winning. I work really hard to fight off blahs during this time of the year, but it seems that gray always wins in the end. Today is such a day. We've had several days of this dreary weather now, and the reason the gray is winning is that the weather forecast calls for several more.

Knowing that it won't end soon gives the gray an added advantage.

So, I'm admittedly ugly this morning. I'll try not to take it out on readers, and because it's such a drab day, I may change courses a bit and add snippets to the blog throughout the day. Then, again, I may not. No promises.

So far on this day, the papers have been late, but do remember from a blog posting earlier this week on that subject that I'm not going to complain about the papers coming late. There has been some complaining during paper reading throughout the week, however.

Bill has issued many more complaints than I have.

He's got good reason. He reads stories from beginning to end, while I read what interests me and then move on to the next story. Several times this week Bill has been reading stories that start on the front page of the paper, move on to the second page and then don't end anywhere else in the paper.

In most cases the abrupt "end" of the story comes in the middle of a sentence on page 2. So, somewhere out there where no man dares to go, there are a bunch of story endings floating around. And, in our house, we have a curious man who has been short-changed and frustrated by not getting the full-meal deal in journalism.

So far, he hasn't spouted out any such similar incidents this morning, but I've already brought to his attention that our own Skip Pucci, much beloved Sandpoint native, construction contractor, wine and opera connoisseur, walking-bridge flower-pot man, once wore ringlets and a bow in his hair.

At least, that's what the paper suggests with this week's "Who Am I" column.

It's hard to look at the picture of that pretty little girl and her curly locks while reading about the mystery person playing football as a little 140-plus pounder for legendary Coach Cotton Barlow. And, it's especially difficult for this old coot, who's still in the dark ages, to read about the little adorable darling in the picture marrying a gal.

Oh well, it's a change from the mundane, and when the days are gray, any change from the mundane is welcome. It will be interesting to see how many people call in with the right "Who Am I" answer during the week ahead.

Maybe there's something I'm missing by drawing the assumption that the person really does sound a lot like my friend Skip. So, I'll leave room for leniency on this journalistic issue.

Nothing has happened outside since I began this post. The clouds are still hanging down low, allowing only a portion of the mountains to show off to us this morning. A slimy-feeling snow was falling earlier, but even that has stopped.

I guess I'll take a break and head out to do the chores. Maybe something exciting will happen. If so, I'll report it.

In the meantime, happy blah Sunday.