Tuesday Twitterdeedum

It's cold, cold, cold.  I have mad horses.  And, that's why I comment about the cold.  I went outside a few minutes ago without my coat.  Horses were complaining----any way they could---because I did not take them to the hayfield pasture as I have the past two days.

While taking them to pasture earlier (with a coat on), I told them they would have to graze from the front pasture today because John is coming.  They don't seem too impressed.

They usually get really excited when they see John's van roll in for their regular hoof care, but they're apparently not visionaries.  They have to see the real horse shoer, not just hear about him from me.  So, they'll probably keep on complaining and walking the fence.

John will put on eight shoes today---four on Lily and two front shoes on Heather and Lefty.  Hard to believe we've reached that point of suddenly having three semi-rideable horses.  I say "semi" cuz one ride does not constitute a fully rideable horse. 

Lefty and Heather will probably remain in the kindergarten mode of horseback riding this fall, with lots of workouts on basics in the round pen.  So, they're still semis, in my mind. They'll go out with Lily on a few trips down the road but nothing major.

~~~~

It should be a great day for Willie today.  His story about Jeremy Thielbahr made the front page of this morning's local paper.  Even if I'm the mom, my journalist mentality says to me that young Mr. Love did a pretty nice job with the feature too.  Jeremy is a Sandpoint High grad who played football at Washington State.  

He's been working as a college football coach ever since his graduation and now coaches at the University of Idaho under Rob Akey.  Willie's story provides some interesting details about Jeremy's coaching experiences thus far. 

~~~~

Today marks the last day of freedom for teachers.  They have to report for duty tomorrow---officially, that is.  As mentioned before, most of them have already been to school a time or two during this past month.  

Yesterday, I did empathize but did not stress out too much while listening to class numbers and stories about students who are supposed to be visible in certain classes but might give it a try taking the class without having to be in the class.  

That does happen, and it's pretty hard for a teacher to maintain much communication while playing the guessing game of when they're going to see said student.  My sister has at least one of those situations, and it's in a class where the student being present is especially helpful. 

Those are always the fun surprises at the beginning of the school year.  Sometimes they get ironed out; sometimes they don't.  

~~~~~~

I'm going to have pumpkins if anyone wants a U-pick pumpkin later.  So far, Mother Nature is allowing them to keep growing---just barely---but we've got some more warm weather coming.  I'll keep readers abreast of the pumpkin situation AND if anyone wants a garlic clove or two, I've got them too.  And, a couple of red cabbages and dill.  

Last night I removed a wheelbarrow full of lettuce that had gone to seed.  I just left it in the garden, and it was actually pretty as the plot of plants grew to about five feet tall.  Now all that lettuce is in the north compost pile, and it's likely there may be a few volunteer plants come spring 2011.  

The beans are finally coming on, and I've been able to pick a freezer packageful every day for three days.  I'm hoping the weather will hold out for the big bean patch on the manure pile.  If so, we could have beans coming out our ears.  

And, like my dad used to suggest, we'll have to avoid sticking any up our nose.  That way we can follow another piece of his advice:  to keep our noses clean.  So, to all readers:  keep your nose clean today.

Happy Tuesday.

Idaho Cultural Experience

Bill and I have been scurrying.  We're getting ready for an invasion from Seattle.  This weekend, up to a dozen Seattle-ites are descending upon the Lovestead for what our daughter calls "The Idaho Cultural Experience."  

Now, I'm guessing that throughout the Gem State, the notion of what constitutes an Idaho Cultural Experience may vary.  And, I'm almost positive that as we get geographically further and further away from Idaho, the concept in people's minds may get further and further away from reality. 

In fact, I hate to think of what some folks could conjure up. 

Anyway, our Annie's a planner.  She sets up a scenario and then does everything in her power to pull off all aspects of the plan.  We're still a little foggy on the full range of Annie's vision for this Labor Day weekend's events, but we've got the general picture.

Part of it includes the "new-old motorhome," which could serve as hotel for some of the guests.  We bought new-old motorhome from my sisters more than four years ago.  It has served as overnight camping for us on ONE night during that time.  That's when we camped at Robinson Lake near the Canadian border.

Since then, the 1976 Brougham has housed the Laumatia family for a few days---out west of the barn and some of Annie's Seattle friends while parked inside the storage shed.  I stayed in it a couple of times while my sisters were out of town and I was doing their chores.  

Other than that, the old rig has lived a good life, parked and hibernating.  We know it's been hibernating cuz we couldn't get it to wake up or fire up when Annie first told us of her plans.  Since then, Bill has purchased two new batteries at a $280 pricetag.  We've also cleaned it inside and out, and Bill has even bought some new items for the interior.

To say it's a spit-shined RV would be an understatement.  So, it's ready to roll----well, almost!  He noticed a flat tire yesterday afternoon, so we'll have to get that fixed. 

Annie's plan also includes the following:  

Camping at Green Bay on Lake Pend Oreille.  Virtually every local teen turned adult over the past 30-40 years has fond memories of Green Bay, and why not?  It's one of the more picturesque spots on the lake, and there's diving to be done off those high rock cliffs.  

Pizza at Second Avenue.  That reminds me; I'd better call ahead to Carolyn, so she'll be ready for this crowd of 30-somethings, plus parents.  

Target practice:  That's Bill's department.  I don't know if he's done a lot of planning there yet cuz he's been so involved with the motorhome.

Horseback riding:  I suggested to Annie that the crowd should go to Western Pleasure, but she thinks that's a little much to fit in on her tight schedule.  So, Lily may be busy throughout the weekend.

Breakfast at the HOOOOOOOOOT  Owl.  Not much to say about that except it's a given for almost everyone who makes overnight visits to the Lovestead.  

I'm sure there's some geocaching and hiking planned too, plus a trip through downtown Sandpoint.  Since this weekend is the Micro-Brew festival up at Schweitzer, you can bet the visitors will spend some time up there too.  

I don't know what else is on the agenda, but Annie assured me that we don't have to foot the food bill.  Thank goodness!  BUT one of Bill's barbecues is a planned meal, so they'll bring the meat, and Bill will work his magic on the grill.

We've got a lot of preparation ahead, but we're also looking forward to the weekend.  We've met many of Annie's friends so we know it's gonna be as much fun for us as it is for them.  

Geocaching crowd, Et. Al.:  We'll be ready for you.  Just don't laugh at our new-old motorhome.  We don't want it to get a complex and quit running.  It's done that before, ya know!

A New Dirt Road to Behold

Lily left a deposit last night, and the Iverson's still allowed us to enjoy ourselves on the dirt road leading from their house back to the main road.

I had never ridden to Terry and Edna's house until yesterday. They're my former colleagues at Sandpoint High School and happily retired.

They weren't home at the time, but their friend John was. He was working on a car in Terry's shop.

He said they were down over the hillside at Amy's house.

So, we talked for a while. Soon, I heard a 4-wheeler, and then Terry and Edna appeared.

Our visit continued until Lily decided her end game had come.

She pawed and fidgeted a bit. Finally, I decided she had stood around being a good girl long enough.

Terry said we could take the long way out rather than going back down their steep driveway.

That's when Lily left her deposit. We all figured it could add to the manure pile dirt Terry had hauled from our place earlier this year.

Same stuff, same source.

Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed the ride and the new scenes.

Of course, I had to snap a few photos.

The weather has been perfect for horseback riding, a little cool but not uncomfortable.

Only problem is my horses need some shoeing. Lily's shoes have held on for more than two months, and one is just barely hanging on.

So, I'll call John today, and sometime this week, the fall shoeing will happen.

The young horses will each get a set of front shoes, while Lily will get all fours.

Then, I'm hoping for some opportunities to take her out and enjoy more beautiful scenery as summer colors make the switch into the autumn show.

We lost our fall colors last year, due to an early frost in August, so maybe this year's production will make up for it.

Anyway, there's no better feeling than sitting atop a horse and plodding through the countryside to take it all in.

Thanks, Edna and Terry, for letting me enjoy your views.

Hope you find a use for Lily's deposit.

Lie Down! Dammit!

I'm so glad to know that "grammar rules" in herd-dog competitions.  Too many dogs in this world have been grammatically confused all these years after being told to "Lay down."  No wonder they're sometimes disobedient. 

They're probably fully aware that their owner has given them an improper command, and they find it difficult to comply.  But being dogs and aiming to please their best friends, they begrudgingly hit the ground.  

I was glad to see and hear correct grammar in action at yesterday's herding competition at the Bonner County Fair.  I told my friend Robin how happy it makes this English teacher to hear the language used correctly, even if it is with a dog.  

We heard correct grammar a lot as Border Collies and Aussies showed their talents in moving three sheep through obstacles and eventually into a stock trailer.  Well, the sheep didn't all make it to the trailer in every round, but they spent a lot of time making their way around the outdoor arena with a dog owner and dog trying to guide them.

I made one observation yesterday.  The sheep have the better end of the deal.  They just have to do what sheep do:  follow.  

There's a lot of yelling going on with the dogs, however.  

Of course, this may have been because most of the herding we watched involved the novice herders.  And, novice dogs, no matter how smart they are, still need a little guidance on when to chase, when not to nip (that would be never)  and when to hold back so the sheep don't get too nervous.

We heard the correct grammatical term "Lie Down!" dozens of times yesterday.  We never did hear "Dammit" tacked on at the end, but my friend Robin told me that the term does slip into a shepherd's vocabulary at times when the dog fails to perform properly.

We also heard "Lie Down" uttered in numerous tones during our stay at the competition, even to the point of "I SAID 'LIE DOWN!'"  Apparently some of the dogs were hard of hearing, so their owners felt the need for emphatic reminders.  

Well, we had such a good time watching the folks compete with their dogs, that we turned from spectators into participants last night while bringing the horses up from pasture.  Instead of the usual, "Let's go!  Let's go! Let's go!"  Willie and Debbie demonstrated some good grammar on Todd and Brooke.

I'm sure Todd and Brooke wondered, "What the heck?" as they suddenly found themselves in reverse mode.  Just as they left the starting blocks to GO! GO! GO! they were deluged with "LIE DOWN!"  To say they were a bit confused would be an understatement.

All they wanted to do was go down there and get horses, and they probably wondered,  "How can you go get horses if you have to lie down all the time?"

Poor Todd and Brooke.  They had not attended the herding competition, so they had no idea why their parents had suddenly gone ballistic on them, barraging them with this emphatic command.

They did their best, though, but it was still hard for them to concentrate cuz horses were waiting at the gate, and they had important work to do AND Border Collies are not usually known to lie down on the job.

Of course, after Todd and Brooke dealt with all the confusion, I tested Kiwi's remembrances of all those commands from her obedience training. 

Like the star pupil she loves to be, Kiwi put on a clinic for the younger dogs, executing every command with precision and pride.  She aims to please, just like her siblings at yesterday's competition.

I think we all came away, inspired, and, no, we didn't turn our Border Collie crew into champions during last night's crash course along the horse lane, but we may just have to go up there to McNalls and learn a few tips from Robin in hopes of competing at next year's event.  

And, I highly approve of this competition because of the correct grammar.  I also like herding-dog contests, because unlike a lot of other competitions, the dogs do "well" instead of "good."  And,  that is good!

~~~~~

In other news, Bill has just left with the new-old motorhome, bound for Les Schwab to get two new batteries installed.  And, I'm sitting here beside the telephone, just in case he calls.

It's very possible that he might end up alongside the road, having to yell, "LET'S GO! LET'S GO! LET'S GO!"

Could be an interesting Saturday, if you know our motorhome. 

Have a good one. 

Friday, already?

Yeah, I talked about flying time in yesterday's post, but today I'm wondering where this week has gone.  Seems like some days sneaked past mighty fast.  I can't believe it's Friday already.

Today's item on the scheduled agenda includes a visit to the Fair to watch some of the herd-dog competition.  We haven't decided for sure which of our Border Collies will go to sit in the audience with us as spectators.  I'm pretty reluctant to consider Kiwi cuz I did take her a few years ago and was worn out by the time I left.

Border Collies are not really that good at sitting politely in the audience when they see other Border Collies at work.  They want to be part of the action, and that's exactly what kept me working with all my might to keep Kiwi in the grandstands.  

Kea hasn't had a chance to watch how it's done by the pros, so I might take her,  but then again, maybe the dogs will all stay home.  We can come back and report to them any tips we pick up on how to better manage the horses, Fuzzy Wuzzy (the cat), the coffee cans and this year's toy of choice:  birch bark.

Yeah, Kiwi's going green on us and sticking to "natural" stuff for her toys.  I saw the first curled-up birch bark between her jaws long about February, and I've seen AND picked up dozens from the lawn ever since.  

The standard procedure for each piece of  birch bark is to bring it from the woods, initiate a "catch me if you can" game and get as much use out of it as possible.  When that piece of  bark gets to a designated state where the keep-away game is not so much fun, it gets shredded into several pieces and left in a pile in the yard.

Then, it's time to race to the woods to find a new piece.  I'm wondering when pine cones will replace the birch bark.  Maybe next year.

Bill, Debbie and I went to the Fair last night in the midst of the blowing dust storm.  I've got scratchy eyes to prove it this morning.  We had a great time, looking over exhibits, purchasing goodies at the food booths, and listening to my former colleague Lee Jackson sing cowboy songs in the concession area.

Bill  and Debbie chose barbecue while I heard the corn dogs at the Horsin' Around booth were homemade and good.  I agree.  They're worth every cent, and I'd go back for another if I'm there at eating time. 

Now, for my friend Lee----I knew he was a musician.  Plays the trumpet in a swing band, but I did not know he was a crooner until last night.  There he was cowboy hat and all, sitting above the crowd,  singing some Eddie Arnold, Roy Rogers, Gene Autry and John Denver classics.  He also sang one song he wrote himself and dedicated it to his wife.  Very nice and touching lyrics.

Lee is a shop teacher at Sandpoint High School.  We worked together for at least three or four years, and I always enjoyed his sense of humor.  Some of Lee's wood shop students were there enjoying another side of their teacher.  This will be his last year with the students, so I'm guessing we may hear more of  Lee's talents after he retires.

After our dinner serenade, we watched the tail end of the blind-folded tractor driving contest.  Erica Curless and I did that about three years ago---poorly.  We also visited the wildlife exhibit and the rabbits and chickens.  

Some of the chickens were obviously hungry for corndogs or something.  One successfully reached out of its cage and pecked Debbie on the hand, while another stood inside its feed dish, refusing to allow its cage mates access.  

We also saw and visited with lots of fun folks last night.  Jeralyn Mire coaxed us over to her kids' cow-and-calf projects.  Daniel and Christy did very well, based on the purple, lavender and blue ribbons hanging on their stalls.  They're definitely a family, totally committed to the 4-H program and to beef cattle, and it shows.

While I was jawing with one crowd, a lady stood by as if she was waiting to get my attention.  Finally, she said my name and then said hers:  Katina Nesbitt.  Well, about 45 years ago, I knew her as Kathy Nesbitt, and she was one of the senior examples among the 4-H crowd.  

That was back in the days of the old fairgrounds down by the Pend Oreille River.  Kathy always seemed to be in some sort of a leadership role among us 4-H'ers.  I know I respected her.  Had to cuz her dad was Bob and he already had given me a rough time through the years about my "horned" Hereford cattle. 

While Bob hung around Sandpoint (well, Sagle as a mail carrier and good raspberry grower), Kathy took off for Hawaii, living in Honolulu for the past 25 or so years.  She returned recently and now lives in Priest River.  We had a great time reminiscing last night.  

The dust storm continued throughout our stay, so we decided to head home via the food booths again.  Bill and Debbie packed off a couple of bags of kettle corn, while I purchased a downright wonderful elephant ear at the Beta Sig booth.  Beth and Dalena Hawkins waited on me, so that made it all the more fun.

Great night at the fair, and my knees didn't even scream.  And, today's planned visit involves sitting in the stands, so the knees should be happy two days in a row.  Now, should I take a dog or should I not?

Stay tuned.  

Time flies

I'm almost afraid to put that title at the top for fear it may send a subliminal message to those irritating insects that start buzzing my nose about this time of the year.  They may think it's "time" for "flies" to come, but that's not what I'm thinking.

I'm thinking how Linda Hunt's call this week made me realize how rapidly the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years have zipped past since I said good bye to my teaching career in June, 2002.

Eight years, 99 months . . . beyond that, the math gets to be too much for me, and I don't have a pen up here to cipher it all out.  

I do know for sure, however, that this will be the eighth time the school bells have rung and I haven't answered the call.  This will be the eighth year I haven't gotten a knot in my stomach around mid-July and felt it continually winding up tighter than a drum by early September.  

This will be the eighth year that I haven't had a hate affair with Sunday afternoons.  I relish Sunday afternoons these days cuz often Bill and I take off to go do something in the mountains.  That's a big switch from turning into a major grouch and avoiding any and all distractions taking me away from my lessons plans and my sleep.

This will be the eighth year that I haven't had to memorize 130-140 names in a week, figure out seating charts, fill in grade books and maintain some grasp on the avalanche of school rules, papers, administrative policies, extra duties, etc. that tend to deluge the days during the early part of a school year.  

This is the eighth year I haven't spent most of the month of August in my classroom, especially at night when nobody's around,  when I can get something done rather than visiting or commiserating with the "aint-it-awful" discussions that often dominate the staff room or hallways.  

Nope, I'm not doing that anymore, and I don't miss any of it.  These days, I'm seeing it from afar but close enough to remember the highlights as I visit with Willie every day when he brings or picks up the dogs.

I'm sure his gut is tightning and his brain is swirling with the "million things to do" list.  He's been visiting his classroom off and on throughout this month.  

He's already had several meetings with his Cedar Post staff because they want to put out their first issue of the paper on the first day of school, which this year is Sept. 7.  Teachers return officially Sept. 1.   Now that the Cedar Posters are entering the production stage, Willie's time at school in his classroom is increasing.

Did anyone tell him he did not have to get started until Sept. 1?  

Willie's activities of late serve as one more example to dispel the age-old myth of those slackers who work only nine months out of the year, six hours a day.

In between getting ready to start the school year far in advance of its beginning, Willie is spending a lot of time making himself credible as a journalism instructor.  Practice what you preach, they say.  

Well, Willie finished off a Sandpoint Magazine feature earlier this week.  

He's off to Moscow as I type, bound for a 10 a.m. interview with Jeremy Thielbahr and then a visit with Coach Rob Akey and some of the Vandal football squad. 

Jeremy is a Vandal assistant coach; he was also a stand-out football player for SHS and WSU.  So, Willie figures this Sandpoint alum make a good interview for the local paper. 

Yeah, Linda called this week, and it's TIME.  Time for the annual "Thank God, We're Retired and We Don't Have to Report for Duty When the Bell Rings" party.  That will be Sept. 1 when all our still-working colleagues go through their first day of meetings, policy, paperwork, etc. 

I don't know how many years Linda and Ron Hunt have hosted this party in their back yard, but I do know that every year I've attended, I haven't witnessed any guests with signs of a miserable gut or a look of frenzy on their faces.  Instead, they're all smiles and happy as clams.

They're also totally amazed at how fast time flies when you're no longer sitting or standing in front of a class of students.

Best wishes to all who do go back to teach the children this September.

Oh, Deer!

To Toni,

Congratulations on your maiden voyage into Bonner County Fair competition.  Definitely a good way to start out---three blues and two red ribbons in photography.  And, having seen your photos, I believe you have every right to be proud.  

I have a feeling you'll be back to the fair next year.  

Great to see you and Ronnie yesterday.  It's been a while, even though only a mile or so separates us out here in Selle. 

~~~~

To Osaze,

Hope I have that spelled right.  Congratulations on your sheep fitting and showing championship----the senior section, that is.

Sounds like there was some keen competition, and I learned later that I knew all the topnotch showmen in this year's championship circle.  Love it when I can put a name to something special.

And, happy birthday to your mom. 

~~~~

To Barbara,

That deer does jump out at you, even if it is going the other direction.  But this was no deer in the headlights; this was a deer which performed at the precise time for you as you snapped its photo bounding off into the woods.  

And, to catch it in that setting, a field dotted with buttercups. Phenomenal!  Even Idaho's Congressional Rep. Walt Minnick was amazed at your timing.

Excellent timing, composition, etc.,   and congratulations on your Best of Show in the photography competition.

~~~~

To the Unknown Soul Who Snapped a Photo of Barbara's Award-winning Photo,

Someone needs to tell you to keep your negative thoughts to yourself, at least,  until you get to the car.  And, no, I doubt the photo you snapped with your big fancy camera of my sister's award-winning photo was "even better" than that "grainy, not very good" picture hanging there among the other entries. 

After all, she caught the live deer running and leaping;  you took a picture of her photo hanging on the wall.  Not a hard task when the subject is stationary and when it's someone else's work.   Maybe you can enter your photo in next year's fair as a "still life." 

It wasn't hard for me to catch all the thoughtless comments you made about my sister's photo after learning that you hadn't done so well on your own entry.  Even whispering your opinions to your family and friends might have been nice instead of broadcasting them to anyone who would listen. 

Finally, after hearing one more critique from you,  I had to say something.  I was truly amazed that you displayed zippo embarrassment when I told you that the Best of Show photo belonged to my sister.

I guess this incident illustrates that it takes some of us a little longer than others to learn to keep the foot on the floor and away from the mouth. Now, that scenario would make a great photo!  

And, for your information, I'll be the first to admit that I've "been there, done that" and learned from it.  I hope you do too.

~~~~~

To my sister Laurie,

Thank you for the moccasins---soon to be mine.  Congratulations on your blue ribbons for moccasins and beading.  Your talents and thoughtfulness are appreciated.

~~~~~

To the judges,

Thank you for the kindness of putting blue ribbons on my veggies, sweet peas and jelly.  And, a special thanks to the superintendents who guided me through the process of getting my exhibits complete for competition.

The water bottles made nice vases for the oregano and dill, and the tip about doing the water bath for at least ten minutes was helpful to this old coot who just makes those jellies and doesn't watch the clock too closely while the jars take their bath in boiling water.

Yeah, at least ten minutes on the water bath (USDA says so)  if you plan to enter any jams or jellies next year. 

~~~~~

There's much more to remember about the fair so far this year.   All of it fun, even the photography reviewer who reminded me of a few similar moments when my own mouth has gone on an out-of-control rampage at someone else's expense.

We're all human, but I must say that whitetail deer photo is amazing, even if it is grainy.  Go check it out.

Tuesday Twitterdeedum

Three layers this morning.  Crisp fall air has arrived in late August.  At least,  we haven't suffered a freeze like we did during this time last year.  That isolated event wiped out a big segment of my garden or at least stalled its growth.  Potatoes ended up mostly marble size with a few exceptions.  And, the cuke crop did not do so well.

Unlike this year, however, the season was earlier, so when the freeze came, we had harvested more than enough green beans.  I'm hoping for enough this year to throw into freezer bags cuz we love our green beans around here.

Today's schedule is pretty open-ended, and I'm glad.  Within a 24-hour period this weekend through yesterday, I sent off a column, edited a rough-draft story for my son, collaborated with Bill on a piece for the Oakdale (Louisiana) Cemetery newsletter and judged several entries in the Bonner County Fair creative writing contest.  

At the fair, I worked alongside Harvey Pine, who told me he became a "WRITER" when he put the word in bold letters on his business card.  Harvey's got a nice sense of humor, and from what I've seen, he can claim the title for more reasons than a business card.  

He judged the school entries while I judged the adults' work.  We spent about three hours doing our duty.  At first, it seemed like the insomnia problem from the night before was gonna get in the way of my concentration.  Thank God for strong coffee.  A few sips, and I was back in form to read through the entries.  

Before leaving the fairgrounds, I strolled through the main exhibit building to see if any ribbons had landed on my own entries.  So far, three blues----apple jelly, carrots and Swiss chard.  Two sweet pea entries (multi-colored and one-color bouquets), the dill and oregano still had judgments out.  I'm thinking there was another sweet-pea entry that will outdo my one-color bouquet.  The blooms were beautiful and large.  

So, we'll see.  I told Bill this morning that yesterday afternoon's ribbons were enough to satisfy me for the whole fair.  Anything beyond that will be pure joy.  

My sister Barbara entered seven photos in photography----always an extremely competitive department, and Laurie entered some moccasins she had crafted and beaded.  Laurie has been very industrious over the past several months, making moccasins for family members, after learning the basics at a powwow near Clark Fork last year. 

It will be fun to go to the fair as a civilian of sorts.  No more judging, just walking around seeing the exhibits and visiting.  

Visiting has become a problem of late whenever I go to the fair.  I tend to spend so much time visiting that I don't always see all the exhibits, so that necessitates more trips to the fair and more visiting.  Neither are really that much of a problem, except for the physical aspect of visiting too long with too many people.

I'm old, and for the past several years,  my knees have behaved just like little kids when their mom talks too long in the grocery store.  They start screaming out with the dull ache.  After a while, the dull ache turns into total screeching pain.  Often this happens when someone is really into talking.  I have a hard time concentrating on what they're saying because those knees doth protest much too much.

Yesterday,  after arriving early to judge and arriving with a tired head and body, I found one of those long wooden benches and sat down.  I told the woman next to me that it used to be I'd walk past those benches, look at their occupants and think, "Those are for the old people.  Now I are one!"

At least my knees behaved yesterday.  So, the benches might just become my new best friends at the fair, and I'm guessing some of their occupants may even be my contemporaries.

We're planning to go to the herding competition Friday.  That's when all the Border Collies, Aussies and other herd dogs show their prowess at getting critters from Point A to B, C, etc.  We figure on taking one of  each of the two Love-family doggies so they can see how it's done,  according to the rules.

We have herders at our place, but often they don't know or follow the rules.  

Speaking of the fair and all its offerings, Annie told me last night she'll be attending the Kansas State Fair in Hutchinson in a couple of weeks.  She's representing Groundspeak and showing Kansas area geocachers how to use the geocaching feature on a cell phone. It's a tough job but someone's gotta do it. 

Nothing like fair time and beautiful days to get one's juices going.  So, I'll get my body going and finish the morning chores so I can head off to another day at the fair.

Happy Tuesday.

Blame it on the parsnips

One of the rules for judges at the Bonner County Fair this year suggests that good judges should come rested and ready to concentrate on their jobs.  Must be my subconscious zeroed in on that rule last night cuz I have to judge the creative writing entries this afternoon. 

Whenever something important is happening the next day, my subconscious and possibly my brain conspire to keep me awake the night before.

Something important happened every day when I was teaching school, so the insomnia card flashed across my mind virtually every night of my last 20-plus years as a teacher.  

'Twasn't fun, as any insomniac will tell you.

I slept all of 3 1/2  hours last night in two different segments---from 9-10 p.m. and from about 3-5:23 a.m.  Whenever I have insomnia and actually get some sleep, I leap out of bed and smile cuz at least I got a little rest to face the big day ahead.

Retirement has been a good antidote to these problems.  Such nights have happened fewer and farther between over the past eight years.  For that I feel blessed.

As the myriad of constantly interchanging scenes and faces rolled past my mental picture show throughout the night, one thought kept recurring.  Could it be the parsnips that caused this particular night-time agony?

After all, I pulled up a parsnip yesterday from my garden.  It certainly wasn't "show quality" for entering in the Bonner County Fair vegetable competition. 

I don't think the judges take too well to those extra appendages hanging of the sides of parsnips or carrots, for that matter----unless they've [the judges] suffered insomnia, that is.

This particular parsnip seemed to be mature enough, measuring about eight inches long and about two inches across at the top.  So, I decided to add parsnips to our dinner menu last night.  The combo included Bill's barbecued chicken breasts and my homegrown salad (with one of those precious garden cucumbers) and the first picking of green beans.  

I had researched parsnip recipes and had, a year or so ago, heard Mark Reiner, who lives up Grouse Creek,  talk about how much he liked fried parsnips.  

I found what seemed to be the ideal recipe and easy too.  Discarding its baby legs, I sliced the parsnip incorrectly.  The recipe says to slice it vertically into strips.  I sliced mine into the round pieces, like a carrot.

Then, I heated up some olive oil and threw the slices into the frying pan, letting them sizzle softly on a low heat and turning them to make sure both sides were crispy.  After removing them from the pan, I globbed on some Imperial margarine with salt and pepper.  

Mighty tasty, if you ask me. 

I was so impressed with the still hot slices that I jabbed one with a fork and took it upstairs for Bill to sample.  I think he liked it, but he didn't have a chance to check out the flavor in detail cuz I ate the rest of the parsnip.  

And, now I think I may have paid.  One of my theories about insomnia is that when you suddenly introduce anything dramatically different into your diet, the body will get you back in a variety of ways.  In this case, I think all the parsnip poison went straight to my brain, functioning as a hyper-stimulant.  

This belief stems from the fact that the images of my insomnia blockbuster last night seemed to be much more numerous than those of my past nights of tossing and turning. And, among those images---appearing like subliminal messaging----was that white parsnip with its extra baby legs constantly dancing across my mental stage. 

I seriously think my theory could hold water, just like my body does when I eat too much salad. I suppose I could test it out a time or two while harvesting those parsnips, but next time I'm gonna make darn sure that I don't have creative writing to judge or a speech to give the next day.  

In the meantime, there's a busy day at the fair ahead.  When I'm finished judging all that writing----if I don't fall asleep on the job---I'll mosey on around the main exhibit building to see if the other judges are weary enough to put ribbons on my dill, oregano, sweet peas, carrots (with no extra legs), apple jelly and red swiss chard.

If they do, I'll come home happy, satisfied and ready for a good night's sleep.

Fun stuff on a Saturday

These are Boundary County feet.

I won't name their owners, but I'll tell you the big feet are related to the itty bitty foot. They're cousins.

The big feet live on a farm in Boundary County. They took some time off from chasing muskrats and feedin' hogs to come to the Boundary County Fair yesterday.

Behind a booth advertising German sausages, the romper-room activity was wild and frisky, so much so that the neighbor dog from the next booth over issued its disdain to the frolicking humans.

While these feet were busy behind the booth, their relatives were doing a lot of standing as they sold sausages and cold pop.

One young lady ran the cash register rather efficiently, no thanks to Grandma's sage advice on making change.

And, a French man stood there making jokes about the German sausage.

~~~~~

I went to the fair because Debbie and her friend Alicia were there at the Girl Scout booth.

They had spent most of the day people watching and signing up new recruits for the Girl Scout program.

Debbie told me my friend Denise was there, at a booth, for Cascade Farms, owned by Denise's daughter Mimi.

Shortly after my arrival, Mimi and her hubby Rob showed up.  We began the marathon visit at the Girl Scout booth.  Then, I moved on over to their German sausage booth and continued yakking away with Denise and Pierre while watching the family at work.  

The business gene has definitely moved on to the grandkids.

~~~~

I also went to the fair because Bill took off to go fly fishing in Lightning Creek.

Willie and Alicia's fiancee Andrew had already headed off, with two of Bill's fly rods for the Yaak River in Montana.

I had finished mowing the lawn and had accomplished a wonderful milestone:  riding Lefty for the first time.

Bill stayed home yesterday, patiently waiting for the summons to come to the round pen and to hold Lefty, just in case.

Well, "just in case" never happened.  Lefty flinched once when I first put my foot in the stirrup from the mounting block.  A couple more stirrup in-and-outs and then I added my full weight.

Lefty seemed pretty unconcerned, so I figured there was no point in wasting any more time, and I climbed on. 

One round around the training pen, and Bill was snapping pictures as Lefty calmly walked in circles and across the pen.  He backed on the second try, and most importantly, "whoa-d" at the appropriate times.

As I sat petting him and telling him how wonderful he was, Lefty almost fell asleep.  

I don't know that it will be so easy in future rides on Lefty, but if yesterday was any indication, I think we're on our way to having yet another young saddle horse here at the Lovestead.

It's been a great week on the horse front.  Only problem is that three rideable horses mean three sets of shoes, and that ain't cheap.   Still, the fun to follow should make up for the expense. 

All in all, yesterday turned out to be a very satisfying and fun Saturday. 

Pierre at the German sausage booth.

Denise giving some grandmotherly tips to River. The customers gave tips ($$$) too.

Lefty loves his humans, and yesterday he displayed once more that love and his willingness to please.

This was his first ever experience as a saddle horse.

Saturday Slight

I just heard a few raindrops.  Earlier this morning, the deck and the cars showed that more had fallen.  It was darker than usual when I awoke but later than usual. I quickly grabbed an extra shirt to warm up from the brisk air in the house.

We experienced a dramatic overnight weather change.  There's a distinct feeling of fall in this morning's air, but the blue sky has almost returned.  I see it coming over the mountain.  

The weather change means the cucumbers will slow down on the rapid growth they've experienced the past few days.  And, so will my pumpkins, all two dozen or so of them.

The good news of this strange growing year is that I have been able to get a pumpkin plant to grow---first time in three years of attempts.  And, is it ever growing.  Covers most of the manure pile, a lot of my cucumber plants, and it extends out to the grass area.  

I wasn't sure at first what the plant was because I had planted three different kinds of vine plants in the manure pile area, praying that something would grow.  Two seeds sprouted and eventually plants popped up through the dirt.  Because of the late growing season, both kinda sat there doing nothing for a long time.

Then summer came, and one plant took off while the other still took time to think about whether it was worth it to grow in this 2010 garden season.  It finally got on with the program a few weeks ago, but I rather doubt that I'll pick a zucchini from its vines this year.  

But that pumpkin is something else.  It has created its own manure pile jungle, and has managed to sprout out lots of fruit to boot.  I haven't found anything on the plant, however, that looks worthy of enrolling in the Bonner County Fair competition.  

Then again, with our weird growing season, maybe my little pumpkins would stand a chance this year.

My daughter-in-law told me that the Boundary County Fair, wrapping up today, was low on veggie entries.  And, Boundary County usually has better weather and a more productive growing season than we do.

So, when our fair opens Monday, it will be interesting to see the quantities and the sizes of garden products.

I've been debating on whether to enter anything at all.  My garden does have some beautiful dill, lots of it, and a good crop of carrots.  I've pulled some from the front-yard planters that look like competition quality.  

My cucumbers are nice, but who wants to waste four cucumbers when there's no guarantee of what the weather will allow to grow from now on.

Those cucumbers, most of them anyway, are bound for the pickling kettle.  Several years ago, I made some bread and butter pickles (that was the bountiful growing year when I even gave away 55 cukes to a guy at the hospital). 

Chomping on those pickles was just like eating candy, and I remember giving away quart jars full to friends, even one of the checkers at Yoke's.   Later, people would tell me they just sat down and ate the whole jar. 

I don't know where the recipe went for the pickles because of our move four years ago, so I found one on the Internet and printed it off.   Yesterday was designated as "pickling supply day."  I checked off the pickling ingredients available here at home and then wrote down those I needed to purchase. 

I chose the Super 1 store because of an additional need for Meadow Gold French vanilla ice cream.  Once at the spice display, I pulled out my list of needed spices.  Red pepper flakes---well, I looked and found a jar of crushed red pepper, grabbed it from the shelf and THEN looked at the price:  $5.97.  

It didn't take long for me to realize I might not use red pepper flakes again for maybe 20 years. Hard to hand over almost $6 for a couple of flakes.   Suddenly a sense of economic caution took over my instinct to just grab whatever I needed off the shelf.  The celery seed was pricey, and I couldn't find the mustard seed.  

But then my eye caught the pickling spice bottle.  I picked it up, looked at the ingredients, and everything necessary was already in the pickling spice.  That's when I wondered who the rich person was who put out that recipe in the first place.

It also occurred to me that with my questionable amount of cucumbers, it would be very possible for me to preserve some $35 jars of homegrown pickles.  That didn't seem right, no matter how good they taste, and certainly nobody outside my family was gonna get a jar.

So, the jar of pickling spice went in the cart, and all the others returned to the shelf.  On my way home, it also occurred to me that I probably already have a jar of pickling spice in my cupboard.  Moral of story:  read between the lines on some of those recipes or you could go broke enjoying a pickle. 

Anyway, this will be a weekend of deciding whether or not to take anything to the fair.  If so, I'll do some careful selecting and get the items all spruced up for display.  If not, we'll just enjoy the garden produce and be thankful for what we've got in this strange year.

Western Pleasure pleasure

Driver Roley Schoonover of Western Pleasure Guest Ranch sits at the reins, ready to take Mother, Debbie and Willie for a carriage ride.

The Schoonovers purchased the carriage in 2008 for their daughter's wedding. Since then, it's carried a few brides and now a happy 89-year-old with her grandson and his wife who celebrated their 9th anniversary the day before Grandma's birthday.

Larry and Bill plod on down the driveway from the Western Pleasure Guest Ranch, bound for Meadowood Road at Gold Creek.

Willie and Grandma Tibbs, sitting back and relaxing during the open-air ride.

View from the carriage, the meadow below Western Pleasure Guest Ranch and Cabinet Mountains.

Back to the ranch. Bill and Larry had more work after their carriage job.

During the evening, they would pull a wagon load of guests to the family cabin on the ranch, where the guest would enjoy steaks cooked over an open fire.

Iz Mother that short, or are Bill and Larry that big? Maybe a little of both.

Anyway, Mother gave them a proper thank you for a wonderful carriage ride.

Carrots will come later.

An added treat after the carriage ride: we watched the 20-plus horses in the Western Pleasure Ranch dude string being herded from one pasture to another.

We all loved the experience, as we always do, any time we visit the guest ranch.

It always feels so much like home, and the owners are so gracious.

Thank you, Roley and Janice.

And, a special thanks to Bill and Larry.

Nice ride.

A little fun, a little history

Bill went on vacation today, officially at O-5:50 a.m.  He planned to take off at 0-6 hundred, but beat the clock and figured he would get an earlier start.  He headed south and by now he has headed east on I-90.

He took his fishing gear with him, and when I asked him when he'd return, he didn't know.  So, I said, "I'll see you when I see you." 

What a way to plan a vacation---open-ended.

Well, Bill will be back home from vacation sometime this evening.  He just didn't know if it would be 18 hundred hours or even as late as 21 hundred hours.  We'll just have to wait and see.

A couple of weeks ago, Bill said he was going on vacation.  I said, "Thought you already went on vacation when we went to Texas and Louisiana."

To which he said, "This is a one-day vacation.  I'm going to Avery."

Bill and I both love history, just different topics.  And, it probably won't surprise anyone that Bill, the forester, has spent the year reading and studying every document, book, map, etc. he could get his hands on, dealing with the 1910 fires aka The Big Burn, which scorched an area of North Idaho, Western Montana the size of Connecticut.

Today there's a commemoration in remote Avery, Idaho.  Bill will be there.  He didn't want to be there when all the people showed up, but that's how it worked out.  So, along with the commemoration, he'll be casting a fly or two into fishing streams along the way. 

Ironically, I've got some fun and history planned for today too.  I thought about the fun aspect but didn't think about the historical aspect until this morning.  

Some family members and I will be taking Mother up to Western Pleasure Guest Ranch today.  She'll be experiencing her birthday present, a carriage ride along the Gold Creek countryside. 

Mother hates the fact that she can no longer ride horses; in fact, she hates thata lot.  So, I figured the closest thing to a horseback ride would be for her to take a spin in a horse-drawn vehicle.  Turns out Janice Schoonover and I agreed a wagon over trails might be a bit bumpy. 

So, Janice suggested their carriage.  It's beautiful, as is evidenced by the photo.  The vehicle is used for weddings.  Janice said they purchased it from a carriage maker in Canada.  

 

Our ride this afternoon will take us along the country roads around Western Pleasure, and that is where the significant history of a family nature comes in.  The plan is for Mother, Barbara, Laurie, Willie, Debbie and me to participate in the adventure. 

And, if I'm correct, we'll possibly pass by or near the site of the old Gold Creek one-room school house where Janice's mom, Virginia Wood attended school through the eighth grade.  Four of those years, her teacher was Iva Tibbs, my dad's mother. 

Three generations of family teachers who followed Iva could be on that ride today.  Mother worked at the old high school (now the Sandpoint Events Center) as a study hall teacher.  My sisters and I have been teachers, and Willie begins his second year in education Sept. 1.  So, I have a hunch we may talk about Iva and her days at the remote school house.

I wrote a speech recently for the Idaho State Delta Kappa Gamma Convention, and I'll leave you with a portion of it.  My hope is that this brief trip into the past will reveal one major reason why today's trip in the carriage will be so special for all involved.

Enjoy. 

Education:  A Family Runs through It---from Chalk Boards to Smart Boards

Marianne and William Love III (mother and son)

Address to the Idaho Delta Kappa Gamma Convention

June, 2010  -- Post Falls, Idaho

  

It’s a winter week day during the late 1930s in remote Gold Creek, northeast of Sandpoint, Idaho.  Virginia Hoffine takes off from her home on Meadow Wood Road, sliding along on a pair of homemade skis, fashioned by her father Paul.

She’s headed to the school house about a mile away on the Gold Creek Road.

If it were not winter, Virginia would be walking.  Along her way, she meets a few neighbor kids, including the Sylvester sisters, as she often does on this trip which she’ll reverse later in the day on her way home.

The school, built by neighborhood volunteers, includes living quarters in the back, an out house and a well.   Virginia climbs the 6-8 steps to the door, walks into a hallway and removes her coat to hang on a hook. 

Warmth from a wood stove greets the group as they proceed into the classroom where Iva Downing Tibbs will spend the day from 9 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. working with Virginia and 15-20 other students from grades one through eight.

  

During the day, Mrs. Tibbs would have two short breaks from classroom duties while watching the students play at recess, each morning and afternoon. After school hours, she would split wood for the stove and do the janitorial work at the school, which also served as a community center where Gold Creek residents would enjoy dances and other gatherings. 

To this day, 70 years later, the image of Mrs. Iva Tibbs still remains clear to Virginia, now a matriarch to her own five children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. 

 “She was a little gal with her hair back in a bun,” Virginia recalls.  “She always started with the “Pledge of Allegiance” and a prayer.  Then we sang a few songs like ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat,’ ‘Are You Sleeping,’ or ‘Swing Low Sweet Chariot.’   We always had a Christmas program and a program in the spring,”

Each day was very busy for Iva Tibbs as she supervised the learning of her Gold Creek students. 

“We all had our turn . . . she’d start out with the first grade.  During that time, the older ones were responsible for getting their work done.  We never had homework.  She met with each grade, and I was the only one in my grade all those four years . . . I would often be included in the grade ahead of me.  Later, Virginia spent five days a week living with a relative in Sandpoint, attending high school.

From fifth through eighth grade, Iva Downing Tibbs served as Virginia’s teacher at Gold Creek.  This Iowa transplant, also a mother of five children had moved to Gold Creek from Bonners Ferry after a period in the 1920s and ‘30s.   

While rearing her children, she taught at a one-room school at Meadow Creek, northeast of Bonners Ferry. Her husband William served as principal of the Northside School in Bonners Ferry, now a Bed and Breakfast. 

During those years, with Mrs. Tibbs as her teacher, Virginia would meet a new school mate, whose family had moved to Gold Creek from Colorado.  His name was Jim Wood.

Occasionally, Jim posed a discipline problem for Mrs. Tibbs.  Virginia and Jim both like to tell of one situation in particular.  It involved politics.

The Woods were Republicans, while Virginia’s Hoffine family were Democrats.  Jim hung around with Virginia’s cousin Charles.  One day a political discussion between the two turned a bit ugly.

 

 Mrs. Tibbs stopped the argument and tried to prevent further problems while holding one at the school house after school for a length of time deemed adequate for the other to walk home.  What she didn’t know was that the two quickly resolved their differences, one waited for the other, and the two walked home together after all.

For a while during Virginia’s schooling at Gold Creek, Mrs. Tibbs’ grown son Harold lived with her while recuperating with complications from a broken leg.  He would help his mother by gathering wood for the stove and would become friends with Jim Wood. 

  

Later, Virginia would marry Jim Wood.  They’ve owned hundreds of acres of land in Gold Creek ever since those days so long ago.  Part of their original ranch is now Western Pleasure Guest Ranch, run by their daughter Janice and her husband Roley. 

Virginia said Mrs. Tibbs inspired her to want to go on to school and become a teacher.  But at the time, she did not have enough money to attend college.  Eventually, the Wood family holdings expanded to a large area along HWY 95 north of Sandpoint.

   

On one corner of that acreage sits an adorable little red school house, complete with a bell tower.  The facility is owned and operated by Virginia’s granddaughter Stacey.  In addition, she has other granddaughters who are educators.

More follows in this speech, but this first segment fits today’s special carriage ride.

 

"Be Prepared" Season

Hard to believe that the summer is winding down.  Several clues have been catching me by surprise lately, but I'm trying to just ignore them and to insist the inevitable isn't so.

Norm called last night.  Norm sweeps out chimneys, and Norm does his work before winter.  He's ready to come and sweep our chimney for the 2010 season.  

Back when we lived on Great Northern Road, the chimney sweeps didn't know us very well.  We were a bit lax about getting that done, unless we had a small chimney fire, that is.

Then, we'd hurry right up, call someone and tell them to get over there right away.  Once the immediacy of said chimney fire passed, we'd move on, hoping and praying that the chimney would clean itself.

We were kinda like that with our septic tank too.  In fact, when we had to get our septic tank pumped before moving away from the place, I got a big lecture from the septic-tank-pumper man.  He started out by telling me it hadn't been wise to have that thing partially uncovered for so many years.

He pumped a whole lot more than human stuff and toilet paper out of there.  He kinda resented the hundreds of tree cones and the brush and rocks getting mixed in with all the yucky stuff.  Those items don't go through pumper truck hoses very well.  Of course, I had to be the one to stand there and listen to the lecture.  

My husband was nowhere to be seen at the time.  And, I HAD mentioned a few times prior to the pumper visit that it might be nice to put that big heavy cement lid all the way back over the septic tank----Bill heard my suggestion a time or two even.  So, like the septic tank man, I kinda resented getting the blame for our maintenance inefficiency.

I've been talking to Bill for the past couple of years about how we ought to have someone come out and pump our tank BEFORE WINTER comes and all the wet weather conspires to shut down our toilet operations.  

By the way, this tank here in Selle  is covered with a lid and grass,  and I---the lawn queen of the Lovestead--- would even allow the area west of the house to be dug up this fall  for a pumping.  Bill doesn't get too excited about such things.  He tends to be REactive rather than PROactive with housing and utility needs.

He does listen to Norm, though, cuz, like clockwork,  Norm always reminds us it's chimney sweeping time. That's also how we know for sure another summer is winding down.

In the past couple of years, I've mellowed a lot about the late-summer chimney sweeping appointments, especially cuz  Norm and his crew do such an efficient and clean job of their annual sweep.   Ya hardly know they're there, and there's no sign they've been there once they leave.  'Cept for a nice, clean stove, that is.

And, this year I'm kind of excited about the chimney sweepers paying a visit.  Since this last winter, we've had a long strip of  loose roofing  tin dangling and banging in the breezes that blow through here.  We've talked about getting it fixed, but when the wind is not blowing, we don't think about it up there.  So, we forget.

Well, when Norm called last night, a lightbulb went off in my head.  They climb up there to do the chimney.  No reason why they can't step over a few feet while they're up there and rip that tin all the way off.  

Of course, there's always the possibility its placement might be key to the placement of the rest of the roof up there, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Norm said last night he thought his crew could do that for us. This year we'll be getting an extra bang for the chimney-sweeping buck, and if all goes well, we won't have to listen to all that tin banging the next time the wind blows through here.  

As for the septic tank, I'm gonna bring up that subject to my "Be Prepared" Boy Scout husband again.  That will probably occur long in October when my annual yard-beautification efforts end.  

Even I can stand a temporary pile of dirt out there, knowing that the toilets will still operate and that  someone will not have to come out here when we have six feet of snow and have to use a water witch to figure out where our septic tank lives. 

In the meantime, the flowers are still growing, and the cukes are even bigger than they were yesterday.  So, I'm not gonna spend too much time thinking about winter and plugged-up toilets.

Tuesday Twitterdeedum

Gonna be hot again today, but I've found the cure.  Of course, it's Big Blue, the pool out behind the barn.  Can't stand the heat, get into the pool with all your clothes on.  Swim around for a while.  Get out, and change out of your wet pants.  Leave the top stuff on.  

This is no wet T-shirt scene, mind you.  I don't often wear T-shirts, and I always wear the appropriate undergarment to go with whatever top I have on.  Yesterday's quick dip kept me cool and refreshed until the sun went down.  

Tom Sherry says this will be the last scorcher of the summer.  At a predicted 92, that doesn't come close to the heat others are enduring around the country, so we can't complain too much.   Still, I'm glad to have Big Blue.

I've noticed there has been a population explosion of Big Blues in the rural areas this year---in fact, they've almost doubled in numbers.  

And, I chuckled with a sense of warped empathy yesterday when I drove by a smaller Big Blue, flattened out like a wrinkled up bed spread  in someone's back yard. 

I'm betting these folks purchased their pool this year and are struggling with the same learning curve I did last year when it took me three fillings of several thousand gallons of Oden Water  to finally get mine to stay full. 

~~~~~

Ever heard of Megan McCormick?  She lives in Nashville and she has an album out today.  She's getting some nice reviews for it too.

I've never met Megan, but I've heard her sing.  She's phenomenal, and her guitar playing is just as good. I'm thinking Dyno at The Festival ought to snap up Megan right away for an appearance on next year's concert line-up.  

I know a lot of local folks who know Megan.  In fact, I've known many of her family members for nearly 40 years.  Her grandparents are Dale and Mae McCormick, longtime Sandpoint residents.  Her dad is Todd,  and her aunt is Julie Knox.  I think they're all pretty proud of Megan, for good reason. 

Mae gave me a CD with Megan's singing and playing a few years ago.  I almost wore it out before loaning it to a relative.  

I'm not quite sure how I can get Megan's most recent release because of all the music techno stuff involved, but maybe my kids can help me figure that out.

Anyway, for those who aren't techno-impaired, you can read more about Megan and her "Honest Words" album at www.amazon.com or by going to http://itunes.apple.com/us/preorder/honest-words/id386647363 

Good luck to Megan, and congrats to all her family members who must be rightfully busting their buttons with pride.  It truly would be great to see her at The Festival some year.

~~~~~

 Heather's coming home tonight. She's finished with her entry-level horseback training.  Now it's time to reinforce everything she's learned from Roxane.  I'm looking forward to riding her and giving her the experience needed to turn her into a seasoned saddle horse.

Lefty's not far behind.  I saddled him up last night and worked him in the round pen.  He stands still while I put my foot in the stirrup, and I have no doubt that with someone else around to hold him, I could take the next step and climb on.

Being an old lady, though, I plan to make sure there's someone available for the "just-in-cases."  Old-lady bones and bodies don't heal fast, so I'm not taking any chances.  

~~~~~

The big pickup is coming home tonight too. Our longtime wrecker man, Dan Smith of Evergreen Towing, came out yesterday and hauled it to Les Schwab.  Turns out the problem was not nearly as expensive or difficult to solve as we had expected.

For good measure, the Les Schwab crew will do some work on the other side too, and then Bill will bring it home.  Have I ever said how much we appreciate the Les Schwab team?  They're a company that truly takes care of their customers, especially with their guaranteed work.

It would be neat to have that new reality show "Undercover Boss" feature whoever is at the helm of the Les Schwab company these days. 

~~~~~

On the garden front, the cucumbers are coming, the cucumbers are coming.  I can't wait to pluck one off the vine, cool it off in the refrigerator, and then cut off some slices.  Gotta get my pickling recipes out because after all the early cucumber difficulties from the cold spring and the mole invasion into my greenhouse, I have 24 thriving plants.

I talked to my old friend Garry Bristow yesterday and learned that he's singing the gardening blues this year too.  Even at Sagle, cold weather halted a lot of garden growth.  Garry called this the oddest growing year he's ever seen.  

Maybe we'll have an Indian Summer and the gardens can make up for lost time.  

~~~~~

Guess that's enough tweedledeeing for this Tuesday.  Time to get out there and admire those cukes again.  

Have a great day.  Stay cool.