January, we bid thee adieu

I took this photo out the upstairs bathroom window the other day.

Fortunately the splats on the window didn't show up.

We've seen lots of similar scenes this winter and have enjoyed them.

BUT

We're ready to move on to February.

Saying good bye to this month is a lot like what we do with obnoxious people who drive us nuts.

When they leave, we can muster up some really friendly feelings. 

Little do they know it's cuz we're so relieved to see them go.

Actually, January can't help it that it's so long and that it lands during such an undesirable time of year here in the north country.

I'm sure that in other parts of the world, where the sun shines and brings warmth and living things,  people actually LIKE January.

In this year, it hasn't been too bad, but I'll be glad to turn the calendar over tomorrow and welcome February.

And, today on this last day of the month, I can report that on the last day of the Winter X Games in Aspen, Sandpoint's Brandon Adam earned a silver medal for his performance in the Mono X division.

I'm sure households across the area were cheering and tearing a bit as he inspired us with his tenacity and courage.
 
Congratulations, Brandon.   We are proud of you.

While waiting for Brandon's event yesterday, I did some snowshoeing and picture taking.

Afterward, I walked down the road and shot some more photos, including one reminder that as January fades away, new life makes its appearance.

Enjoy.

Sunday Stuff

ESPN photo -- Brandon Adam

We were supposed to be having a big snowstorm this morning.  The streaming banners across the TV screen were advising us last night.

Be it advised that so far our winter storm has consisted of about five minutes of blowing sugar-fine snow.  The snow quit but not the wind.  It sounds a bit blustery upstairs but is hardly noticed downstairs.

I'm looking at blue skies over Schweitzer way.  Maybe the minus 10 temps will come, but I think we missed the bulk of the storm.  Must have been south of us.

I'm not complaining because it's possible the week ahead could be clear and cool, and that suits me just fine.

This morning, while reading the Sunday Spokesman, I was thrilled to see Corie Kedish Laude in the front-page picture AND it was a good-news story about fish.

Corie grew up in our neighborhood, so to speak----down the road about half a mile from the North Boyer farm and about half a mile via flying birds from our Great Northern Road home.

We used to always see Corie and her sister out riding their horses up and down Boyer or maybe even over our way.  Later, Corie signed up for Cedar Post while I was advising the student newspaper at Sandpoint High School. 

I'd always pictured her as a bit shy, and she was pretty quiet in that class.  In spite of that, she came up with an idea that added a really nice touch to the paper.  She wanted to write an outdoor column.

So, she did.  If I recall correctly, one of her first columns told about the Kootenai National Wildlife Refuge northwest of Bonners Ferry.  

Funny thing, these days Corie works for the Idaho Fish and Game along the Kootenai River which runs through Bonners Ferry.  

This morning's story deals with a fish, once very common but was believed to be no longer existing in the river.  Seems a few have been found, and entities are trying to restore its population in the river.

Rather than telling the whole story, I'll provide a link, and you can read it for yourself.  And, I'll continue to revel in the fact that this young lady has persevered on her outdoor interests.  

Here's the link:  http://www.spokesman.com/stories/2011/jan/30/cross-border-effort-aims-to-restore-once-abundant/

In the Spokesman, I also read a letter penned by an Army Sergeant from Sandpoint who is serving as a military broadcast specialist in Iraq.   Her name is Sarah Snedden, and her dad John is well known to most of us Sandpoint natives. 

He's the founder of Unicep Packaging Corp., http://www.unicep.com/2/about-upi which specializes in single-dose packaging for oral health care.

Well, John's daughter Sarah took umbrage with a recent Spokesman headline: Panel:  Let Women in Battle.

Sarah wonders why this is even being discussed, finishing off her letter with the statement, "As an Army broadcaster, I attach onto combat units and film. I shoot with my HDX400; my M16 is still slung on my back. I don’t need Congress to tell me I am in combat."

You can ready her full letter at:  http://www.spokesman.com/stories/2011/jan/30/combat-knows-no-gender/

Of course, I say, "Go gett'em, Sarah!"  Sarah owns a belt buckle, which she won a few years ago, inscribed "Harold Tibbs -- Toby I Award."  

So, we keep track of her, and we're very proud of her service to the country.

And, speaking of Army Sergeants, my last reminder.  Yesterday Brandon Adam said he's ready for his big competition at the Winter X Games in Aspen.

This morning he put a reminder on his Facebook page, which reads:  

 

My races will start today on ESPN at 3 Mountain Time. 

The event name is mono x. U can see my qualifying run on espn3 online under 'action sports.' 

Good luck to Brandon.  
 

Saturday Slight

A guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do.

And, if a garbage sack will do, then a guy will do it.

This is Bill's new fashion statement for protecting the "post-surgery boot."

Photo by Debbie Love, who also happened to be his chauffeur that morning.

~~~~

Not all members of the family dig Bill's garbage-sack approach to fashion, but it keeps the boot dry.

Bill's had about enough of having to rely on other people to taxi him wherever he needs to go.

I never thought he'd get stir crazy, but I've detected a little of that this week.

Monday he should get the okay to drive and maybe wear something else on his foot.

~~~~~

On the health front, nobody complained about my mouth guard last night cuz it's not quite as visible as Bill's protective devices.

I wore it and didn't even choke on it. That's what I thought surely would happen to me if I tried such a thing.

But, it stayed in place, and I guess I'll see if it does any good on curtailing my jaw clenching.

~~~~~

On this third day from the end of January, it's fairly quiet around here except for the occasional barking-dog syndrome.

Annie hasn't let out any of her dementia barks, but Kea, of late, has had this thing about barks in the dark.

The minute she hears one, coming from a far-off neighbor dog, she's sure we have invaders.

So, she lets out several of her high-pitched "get-out-of-here" yips while racing around the outside perimeter of the house and jumping in the air.

That noise gets Kiwi, the coward, started. She's not going out there to check and see if the bogeyman is truly there, but she'll join in on the verbal protests.

By the time I get out the door to tell 'em to shut up, I can hear a complete neighborhood chorus going.

Bullet provides the rhythm cuz he barks all day and night if he's outside, same beat all the time.

It's almost early spring, I guess, and that's what dogs think they need to do, so we'll put up with it---to a point.

Fortunately, Border Collies don't like to get in trouble, so they usually shut down after a few "shut up's."

~~~~~

I'm feeling pretty relaxed and relieved this morning. It's sort of a calm before the next storm.

I finished off two deadline stories this week.

Next week there's my presentation to the Friends of the Library, so that will be the next "must do by a deadline" project.

Seems like I'd get smart and quit all this stress-related stuff, but each assignment usually elicits much more ultimate satisfaction than stress.

~~~~~~

Not to be repetitive, but----

Why do I say that when I don't mean it?

Okay, to be repetitive, I'll repeat that Brandon Adam competing on ESPN tomorrow afternoon around 1 PST.

So far, he's still a go for the mono skiing event at the Winter X Games.

Pass the word.

And, do tell anyone---who wants to see a young Iraq War Army hero show even more courage and grit---that Brandon's performance should be worth watching.

~~~~~~

Well, the ZAGS have lost three in a row. When was the last time someone could say that?

We're not forsaking them, though, cuz we still think they're pretty entertaining.

It's just that the competition has caught up with them.

Tonight we'll all be getting together with my mother and sisters to watch the game.

All except Willie, that is.

He's headed off to Lewiston today where his team will be playing in a day-long series of games, pitting frosh, JV's, varsity teams for girls and boys.

After some adversity in December and early January, his team has won two straight.

He's pretty pleased with their progress.

So, I'll end by saying Go BRANDON, Go Bulldogs, Go Bulldogs!

Happy Saturday.  Kathy, check out your Saturday picture below.

I took a hike up the cat track at Schweitzer a few years ago.

Might have been when Kiwi was a pup.

Anyway, it was pretty that day.

I'm sure about all you'd see today is a lot of white with those alpine trees jutting up from the snow.

Kathy, this one's for you.

I'm sure my husband would love to be walking in areas like this today, but he'll have to keep on healing.

I think he and Annie will be climbing Mt. Lassen this summer, so he needs to take care of that foot.

Just Thinkin' about Stinkin' Lincoln

Stinkin' Lincoln

by Sandpoint artist extraordinaire Cheryl Klein

I really wasn't thinking about Lincoln until I scrolled through my old photos to find another bright one for Kathy.

And, there was Cheryl's painting.

She did this one for my book cover nearly four years ago.

And, that's me, the clumsy-looking one playing tether ball.

More than likely that when that kid hit the ball, it probably slammed into my face.  I'm that clumsy.

In fact the other day, when the doctor asked me to do some simple task with my mouth and my nose, I forgot to do the last half, and he had to tell me to do it again.  I'm that clumsy and uncoordinated.

I love this painting of Lincoln.  Cheryl, of course, used a little artistic license to incorporate the appropriate scene for Marianne's yesteryear.

I chose my grade school over my high school cuz good ol' Lincoln has a lot more artistic flair than those buildings constructed from the 1950s on.

Besides, that's where education began for this ol' educator.

I can look at those windows and remember personal moments in each.

The lower left was Mrs. Kinney's first grade back in 1953-'54.  I was bent over at a bookcase next to one of the windows when that jet crashed in the pole yard just two blocks away.

I was putting away workbooks and proud to be the row monitor that day.

Suddenly, the explosion and some shattering of glass.  We were whisked home as soon as possible.  A pilot died in that crash, and we were so fortunate that he was the only fatality.

In the window on the left, Hazel Lunn taught us.  I swore she was 100 years old, and I probably swore when she put U's in penmanship on my report card cuz I did not make a big enough loop for my 5's and S's.

You can be sure I corrected that in a hurry.  Still, those teachers back then were convinced that we lefties would never learn to write our words and sentences properly.

The room above Mrs. Lunn's was Mrs. Alberta Sutliff's fourth grade.  At the time, we thought she was the only nice teacher in the school.  

At least, I thought that until the day she spanked me while I was in the aisle between desks on all fours, five seats up from where I was supposed to be sitting.  

Would you believe I was talking to one of my friends?

I never really held that spanking (only one I ever received----as a student, that is) against Mrs. Sutliff cuz she remained pretty nice and friendly.

I'm not going to talk about Altha Young's third grade class or Hazel Beck's fifth grade room cuz they're in the back, and Cheryl couldn't do multi-dimensional in this painting.

The room on the right, second floor has lots of memories:  penmanship with those weird ballpoint pens Marvel Ekholm had the PTA people sell.  We had to use our product in class, and I never did think those pens were very practical.

I was NOT chewing gum one day when Marvel (the principal) thought I was.  We had Mr. Scheibe and Mrs. Fredstrom for teachers in that classroom.

One day Marvel walked by toward her office, glared at me through the classroom door window and then summoned me to the door with her index finger.

When I reached the door and stepped outside, she asked, "Are you chewing gum?"

To which I said "no."  I did and always have chewed on my tongue, but I didn't want to share that with her.

I opened my mouth to prove that I was telling the truth, and she sent me back to my seat.  

Those teachers at Lincoln School did place the "fear of God" in most of us, and that was back in the day when God could come to school. 

He came to Lincoln every single day with the Bible reading.  I don't know if that made us any better people, but at least He was there, doing his best.

Lincoln School occupies a pretty big spot in my bank of childhood memories, so Cheryl's painting seemed like an appropriate selection for today's posting.

As mean as those teachers may have seemed, they did their work well, giving us a foundation to go out there and do a few things right.

And, that charming building must have done something right, cuz it's still standing while others of its era are but memories. 

I Can Hear You Now . . . .

I was thinking of my friend Kathy and how she likes pictures and then thinking that this morning's thick fog does not offer much in the way of picture taking possibilities.

Who wants to see gray when you can dig some color out of the picture library?

Besides, I posted this photo from our former farm for a neighbor from the past.  Greg now lives in Florida, and we reconnected through Facebook.

And, the posies look pretty pleasing on this gray day.  

This was a while back when Miss Kiwi was a young pup.  Annie Love was younger too, as was Annie Dog.

~~~~

Yesterday was a triple-doctor day for our family.  Does that indicate we might be aging?

My mother's doctor Tom Lawrence made a home visit.  He was quite pleased with how she's doing, and he enjoyed looking at all her artwork.

His nurse told me I need to ask about the doc sitting on Mother's lap.  I'm sure there's a good story there.

Anyway, Mother was pleased to see her doctor, whom she always says reminds her in looks and manner of ol' Doc Adams on "Gunsmoke."  

While Dr. Lawrence was visiting with Mother, I took Bill to his foot doctor.  Bill was hoping for clearance to drive again.

The doc said no---not until all the stitches come out.

So, after that appointment, I dropped him off at his office.  I think Bill was getting a little stir crazy about hanging out at home, inside the house.

His stitches come out Monday, so he'll be back behind the wheel after that.

In late afternoon, I mustered up enough nerve to actually go to the ear, throat and nose specialist's office where I had an appointment.

Didn't even drive around the block several times. 

The doctor looked in my ears and said there was nothing he could see wrong, so he sent me down the hallway for a hearing test.

That doctor asked me when I'd had my last hearing test.

I told her it was probably at Lincoln School in "the portable." 

We had a white building on the school grounds, which we called "the portable."  

They used it for things like hearing tests and programs.  

Unlike yesterday's test in a soundproof room, we sat in the building, directly across from Balch Lumber Co. (later Louisiana Pacific).  

We had to decipher soft sounds that competed with the mill noise.

I told yesterday's doctor that I thought we took that test at a definite disadvantage, but I guessed that I must have passed.

The doctor yesterday told me the sounds would be soft but she failed to tell me what to listen for. 

I think I missed the first two cuz I was doing my usual suffering from "test anxiety" and figuring surely I'd flunk this one.

Well, then I realized the three beeps were the test questions.  That thumb was at the ready for every time anything sounded like beeps.

She also asked me to repeat words to her and then she stuck the ear phones at a weird angle on my head.  I heard the beeps, regardless.

Anyway, she told me my hearing was completely normal in the right ear and just one level short in the left ear----that's the high pitched beeps.  

So, the doctor was a bit stymied.  After talking to me a while---to which I heard every word---he asked me to open and close my mouth.

That's when he heard unusual sounds coming from my "Temporo-Mandibular" joint.

And, that's when he told me I might have a bit of degenerative arthritis in that joint, which, just like the knee, has cartilege.  He surmised that possibly the cartilege might be causing the blocking sensation in the ear.

As he described the condition, it all made sense----comes from jaw clenching, chewing gum or hard candy or tough meat----or some other injury.

Well, this Type A, intense soul is a jaw clencher and has been for years.  Plus, over the last year I've started chewing gum while driving.

So, he suggested a mouth guard at night, no more gum chewing and doing whatever will relax my jaw.

I was glad to know yesterday that I can hear and even happier to know there's an explanation.

Now, I have to work diligently to avoid worrying about it.  And, that for me is the challenge.

Nonetheless, just like I wanted to pass my hearing test, I'll work hard to get an A on "relaxation."  

I also hope the ZAGS are working hard to defeat their WCC nemesis tonight, St. Mary's.  Should be a great game.

Go ZAGS!

Just got another note from Brandon Adam, who's competing in the Winter X Games.

He says  Sunday at 1 p.m. PST on ESPN.

GO BRANDON!

Remembering the Past: Embracing the Future

My title today reflects the kind of week it's been.  Several dimensions of my life's influences have been peeled away with the loss of folks I've known.  

At the same time, the power of the future, as evidenced by others I know drives me forward but not without reflection.

She was a Pearl and a Love:  This morning I saw Pearl Irwin's photo on the back page of the Daily Bee, along with Dorothy Johnson and Ralph Peterson.  Three obituaries appeared on that page, along with some memories.  

Dorothy went to our St. Joseph's Catholic Church and probably never missed Mass during the time I was growing up and attending.  And, she had all those boys. I always thought of Dorothy as that attractive lady who lived in one of the first fancy houses in Sandpoint.

The architecture of that house is dated these days, but to me, its modern style at the time represented a family who was doing well in the mind of this country hick.  

Along with her attractive looks and Pleasantville-style life (all my impressions), Dorothy was a hoot.  

I always enjoyed visiting with her whenever I did my Courthouse rounds as a reporter for different publications. 

Meanwhile, I was working for one of those publications when I first met Ralph Peterson. I also taught his daughter Sheri.  Ralph worked in the print shop in the back of the Sandpoint News Bulletin, along with Blaine "Doc" Sisson. 

Ralph was always nice.  I picture him with his glasses, bald head and always a T-shirt, it seems.  Later, he delivered the Nickel's Worth.  I'd see Ralph when he was carrying bundles of the weekly advertiser in each arm, headed for Yoke's.  We do our catching up.

His buddy Blaine "Doc" assumed the duty when Ralph retired, and, I must say, I never dreamed Ralph was that old.  He lived 100 years and two days. 

And, speaking of local papers, a couple of days ago Steve Fenton's picture and obituary appeared in the paper.  Just over half of Ralph's age, Steve was 52.  He lived most of his adult life dealing with schizophrenia.

As his teacher for three years, I must say it was sad throughout his adult life not to see Steve at the level I had witnessed during his high school years.  

In those days, he was a focused, talented and brilliant young man who spent  hours, pondering ideas and putting them into action.  He served as Monticola editor his senior year, and my respect for him was undying.

Later, Steve started a newspaper here in the area, called The Pend Oreille Tourister.  Its purpose was to showcase the assets of this beautiful area and how to partake in them.  Both Bill and I wrote columns for Steve's newspaper. 

Somewhere, in my boxes, I still have some copies of those papers, which truly reflected Steve's abilities and his constant striving for perfection.  

I'll always remember Steve in his "forever young" years. 

I knew Ruth Hoekema also.  She died earlier this week.  Two of her children were my students, and I developed a particular fondness for Nadine---also a Cancer and also a journalist.

And, there was Ruth's husband:  we discovered years ago that we share the same birthday.  I don't even know his first name----just Mr. Hoekema, but you'd think we were the best of friends whenever we'd run into each other at birthday time.

A few days ago I learned that Bernie Knapp had died.  He's from Coeur d'Alene, and the North Idaho College crowd would know him as the former vocational director at the college.

Bernie hired me way back in the 1980s to teach a night class for adults---general English skills.  I'll never forget how nervous I was before the first night, until I learned there were people in the class who had not gone to school since the eighth grade.

Forget the nerves and think of their apprehension.  It turned out to be a great group.  We had a lot of fun, and I think some even felt like they learned something.

Bernie remained my friend even though I taught that class only one year because of a schedule, much too chaotic---as a mother and teacher. 

Later, Bernie and my dear friend Ann married.  Ann had worked at Sandpoint High School as a library aid.  During that time, she helped me immensely by typing up my grammar exercises.  

Ann was a perfectionist, so I really appreciated her assistance, and over the years I've greatly appreciated her friendship and support.  Ann retired a while back after working in the Lake Pend Oreille School District office with all things dealing with reading.  

Now, back to the Pearl and the Love. She died this week too, at 94.  Pearl Love Irwin was a plain-spoken but elegant horsewoman.  In my growing up years and young adulthood, Pearl represented the epitome of equestrians.

She was a beautiful rider of 5-gaited Saddlebreds.  Pearl's silver saddles and gorgeous parade outfits were legendary around North Idaho and Eastern Washington in parades and horse shows.

Her sister Ruth was a well-known and respected horse-show judge and trainer.  The Love sisters grew up in Colfax but made their way north.

I traveled  and even bunked in the same travel trailer as Pearl when we accompanied Gene and Etta Balch to horse shows.  One of my mother's life highlights was the trip she, Etta and Pearl took to Albuquerque years ago.

Pearl rode the Balches' Arabian mare Lisa to the Top Ten in English pleasure at the Arabian Nationals that year.  This was big time for anyone from this area in those years.

Though a perfectionist at everything she did, Pearl remained a humble, "aw gosh" type of gal.  And, she was funny.  It's amazing Etta didn't come and scold us some of those nights when we giggled ourselves to sleep in that trailer. 

I'll miss Pearl, and I'm sure every horselover who knew her will too.

So, it's been a week marked with sadness, with parts of the living tapestry of my life turning to memory----all good. 

The week has been upbeat, though.  I attended the Girl Scout Leadership luncheon yesterday.  Between the adults speaking of their Girl Scout memories and the young ladies now involved in the organization, I was moved.

Several of Sandpoint's leaders were there and totally impressed with what the future holds, thanks to some young scouts who charmed the heck out of us all with their amazing speeches.

Later, I worked on my column for next month.  I may have mentioned before that it will feature Chamber CEO Kate McAlister.  One cannot help but be moved by her life story and refusal to let some rather sad personal situations get in the way of making a positive and fun difference in the people around her.

I have a feeling this little spitfire is gonna be good for Sandpoint, especially because her focus is the future.

And, finally, when I think of my former English student, Sgt. Brandon Adam,  and what he represents about personal courage and determination, I want to slap myself for complaining about the minor obstructions that sometimes disorder my day.

Again, for those who don't regularly read this blog, Brandon lost his lower legs in 2007 due to an explosion while serving in Iraq. He is competing in this weekend's Winter X Games in Aspen, Colo.

Brandon wrote me a short note last night about his upcoming weekend, so I'll end with his words and with the thought that we deal with the emotions of loss and optimism every day:  the key is appreciating what people bring to our lives and honoring them.

From Brandon:  I start qualifying on Saturday morning. I have to make it through that first.
 

Sunday starting at 3 p.m. Mountain Time (2 p.m. PST) is the semi start. The final will be right after that.
 

Saturday isn't televised. Sunday is on ESPN. My event is called Mono X.
I think I should do well if my equipment doesn't fail.  That's really the only thing I'm worried about.

Tuesday Twitterdeeflakes

~~~  'Snow End to It ~~~

I saw and heard of several weather forecasts, suggesting a dry week.

What's going on this winter, anyway?

I do know that snow has continued to fall abundantly in spite of what we hear.

It's pretty out there this morning with four new, unexpected inches.

I was telling Bill this morning that so far this winter has been pretty bearable because of the variety.

For some reason we've skipped the usual North Idaho weather, where whatever we have, there's a LOT of it.  

Variety is the spice of life when it comes to having just days of gray, gloomy weather interspersed with gorgeous sunshine.

~~~~

Today is Girl Scout Day in Sandpoint---on the leadership front, that is.

Debbie will be here soon to drop off the dogs and to taxi Bill into town for a Idaho State Forestry contest meeting. 

It will be his first outing since his foot surgery, and I think he's anxious to get out of the house.

I can still report that he's been a "model patient."  

Bill will find a ride home because I'll be going in to town a little later for the Girl Scout Leadership Luncheon at Panhandle State Bank's Tango Cafe.

Last night Debbie said almost 100 people have signed up for the free luncheon which promotes the Girl Scout programs in the area. 

Folks from the Spokane office are coming too, so it's a big day for Debbie.

~~~~

Speaking of big news, I don't have all the details yet, but I've seen the proof of the pudding:  

This week, former Army Sergeant Brandon Adams from Sandpoint is competing in the Mono Skier X division of this year's Winter X Games in Aspen, Colo.

Brandon, who lost both legs from an explosion while serving in Iraq in 2007, will be competing Sunday.  

ESPN will be covering the action.  I was pleasantly surprised last night to find a comment on an earlier blog posting about Brandon (Nov. 11) written by an ESPN researcher.  

The individual was gathering information for TV programming of the event. 

Brandon said he'd send me all the details, but from what I gather he'll be competing on Sunday. 

I'm sure that the ESPN commentators will find his story as inspiring as all of us who have had the good fortune to know him and follow his story of courage and his relentless positive attitude. 

Go Brandon!  He'll be joining Sandpoint's Olympian Nate Holland who has competed and won several times in the X Games.

~~~~

With all that new snow, I've got some shoveling to do along with some gussying up to go to that luncheon, so I'll just wish everyone a happy Tuesday. 

HeatherSpeak

Hi,

Mom Love is lazy this morning. Guess it's Monday, so I'll fill you in on the news.

I'm Heather, and I like to get a word in edge-wise once in a while.

That sure seems stupid.  How do you get a word in edge-wise? 

Do you stand near a counter, bend over and then spit out what you're gonna say?

Those humans have funny ways of expressing themselves. 

We horses like to keep it simple and purposeful instead of muttering all the time. 

I just scream a lot, and I scream loud---only when my friends leave my side, but when they do, the whole neighborhood knows I'm upset.

That's Lefty standing behind me.

Last night I thought he was in bigtime trouble cuz Mom Love got upset when she led him into the barn.

Seems he rubbed another spot on his neck, and that's after having steroid shots, oil added to his feed and a bunch of benadryl.

Mom Love wishes she could figure out what causes him to do that.  Every time he rubs so hard that his hide is either raw or wet, swollen and warm.  When it's the latter, the patch where he rubs peels off and it's several weeks before the new hair grows in.

Last night, she gave his neck a medicated sponge bath, hoping to save the hide and hair where he rubbed yesterday.

She calls him "Patch" every so often.

We all kinda feel sorry for Lefty. 

I don't feel sorry for him, though, when she leads me into the barn.

He runs up and bites me while I'm standing near the gate.

Of course, I know how to kick back.

It's been really nice here at the Lovestead the last few days, and she took this picture when we were running, rearing and bucking around the barnyard.

We felt so good doing that in the sunshine yesterday.

We haven't seen Dad Love for a while cuz he's been staying in the house with his recovering foot. 

He has to keep the surgical boot dry, so he just stays inside, reading, tying flies, watching football and basketball and keeping that foot elevated.

He hasn't been taking any pain medicine since those two bouts with upchuck reactions to the meds.  He seems to be doing just fine in the pain department. 

Mom Love says she's pretty happy with Dad Love cuz he's been a good recovering husband---even loads the dishwasher and cleans up his dishes, without being asked. 

That's a good husband, I guess.

You might just barely notice my dread locks.  Mom Love has been trying to untangle them and make me look nicer.

Every time she does, though, that great big Lily comes over and scares me away. 

Lily wants all the attention around here, and since she's so much larger than Lefty and me, we get out of her way. 

I kinda like my dread locks anyway. 

We heard yesterday that Mom Love is going to Ireland in March with Annie.  No, not Annie Dog but Annie Love.

She says she's even going horseback riding while she's over there.  Maybe when she gets back, it will be spring and she can ride me again.

I guess she's pretty excited. I wonder what all we can get away with while she's gone.  I bet we can convince people to really spoil us cuz we're so cute, ya know.

Well, I guess she's got some other pictures for the blog, so I'd better quit my yakking and get back to eating and defending myself from Lily.

Happy Monday.

Wandering Dreams

Why did that Oprah have to take us to Australia this past week anyway?  

I did not watch every episode of her trip Down Under, which included hundreds of her ultimate fans, but I did watch enough to wish I could magically shut my eyes and open them a second later,  leaning on some remote Australian ranch fence, admiring horses.

So far, I have to do that in my dreams.  Annie's been to Australia.  She and one of my former students and good friends, Kelsi, visited there at the same time on separate trips.  They hooked up with each other on the steps of the Sydney Opera House, and they've been good friends ever since.

I've written about Australians for the Appaloosa Journal, and that story, published more than a decade ago,  about a mounted Search and Rescue team in South Australia's wine country,  will bring me even closer to the culture I've longed to experience most of my adult life.

One of my main sources for the story, a lady named Polly, has kept in touch with me off and on, indicating her fervant desire to make it to America.  She tried a few years ago but had to put off the trip because of an injury.  

Since then, she's received a nursing degree, and, as a reward, she's treating herself to a visit to the Calgary Stampede and then on to Sandpoint.  

She's traveling with a friend and her daughter, so we'll be their hosts once they cross the border into the United States.

Polly's trying to work a deal to bring along some of the home-produced wine, so that should be fun.  Plus, for me to have Aussie's here for three days this July with a common love of horses is going to be treat enough.

So, my long-nurtured dream will come to at least a partial fruition.

This is the time of the year when my mind wanders more than usual, yearning to be in far-off places---namely wherever the sun shines, the ground is bare and there's a sense of living, growing, colorful plant life to behold. 

I read on Facebook this morning that some folks from "Wp Ranch" are at a dude-ranch convention in Arizona, learning how to get "more butts in the saddles and heads in the beds." 

The author of that post told of riding in the desert and taking in some team penning at the White Stallion Ranch.

I read stuff like that, and my mind goes wild with a desire to close my eyes and just be there.

Yesterday, I read on Facebook about a former Selle-ite visiting Savannah, Georgia.  I instantly saw some green within this snow-white environment, only my green was envy.  

Savannah has also been on my priority list of places to see some day, and even the slightest mention of someone else visiting there---in January---sent my mind into a tailspin.  

Julie said she's going back and that she still hasn't met anyone who doesn't rave about the place.

Some day.

Recently, I was given an assignment to write a feature story about the "Sisters on the Fly."  One minute into research---all of two sentences describing the concept, and I wrote back to the editor, stating, "I want to do this."  

Of course, I wanted to the story, but being one of those sisters would be nice too.

Basically, these gals travel in caravans---pulling their renovated vintage travel trailers---dine around campfires, spend time fly fishing or trail riding, shop and develop a camaraderie like no other.

Who wouldn't love that?

After I'd read a few pages from the Sisters' recently published book and knowing Bill had peeked at a few himself, I suggested to him that we needed to start a movement of our own,  just like those sisters.

It could be a branch-off from their concept----we could call it the Love's New Old Motorhome Geocaching, Et. Al. Traveling Squad.  

After all, we've got the major necessity, a new old motorhome.  We just have to come up with a way to decorate it in keeping with its vintage roots, with the exception of one modern commodity:  a Tom Tom GPS which tells the driver where to go and to "recalculate" if necessary. 

I gave one of those units to Bill for Christmas, and he seems to like it.  I understand that the Tom Tom with all its bells and whistles, could even tell folks where to go--- in an Australian voice.  That aspect could add even more reality to my far-fetched longing of being Down Under.

And so, my wandering dreams continue, and images of traveling to faraway places keep me going on these January days when spring and flowers and new life seem so far away.  

And, I hope everyone I know who's someplace else is having a good time---honestly, I do!

Saturday Slight

Bill calls them his nursemaids.

Good thing: cuz a nurse I am not!

Since Annie isn't here to run his in-house errands when Bill rings his bell (that was common years ago when he had hernia surgery), Todd and Brooke provide the tender love while I care enough to let him have a corner of the living room. 

Bill had foot surgery yesterday.

I won't go into details except to say that Kootenai Medical Center's Outpatient Surgery Unit knows efficiency.

We arrived at 7:45 a.m. and he was wheeled to the car at 11:20 a.m.  

During our stay, I walked through the facility's sliding-glass doors a couple of times and noted that the wheelchair brigade with patients and nurses reminded me of an on-ramp on the freeway.

Definitely no messing around down there.  I had time while waiting through the surgery to write most of a story assignment and to go to Costco.

My trip to Costco had to be quick because they told me in recovery, he'd be ready in half hour-45 minutes. 

Besides, one couldn't dilly dally there yesterday cuz they didn't have the samples out yet. 

 Bill is in bliss, most of the time.  His surgery is over.  He does NOT have to use crutches (that put me in bliss too). 

He has his temporary "office/therapy center" in the living room with a box for all his papers and reading material, his portable DVD player and a laptop.

Add two loving Border Collies and it doesn't get any better than that.

I won't mention that Bill's aim improved dramatically overnight when his stomach decided that the pain medication and its recently deposited contents did not mix.

Yes, I cleaned up the first explosion and nicely said to him, "This is why I'm not a nurse."

He hit dead-on in the garbage can second time---and was rather proud of himself.

Bill is being a trooper, for which I'm proud cuz he has been known to whine on past occasions. 

Do men do that?

I think we'll make it through this one just fine, as long as he behaves himself and does what's told to him by doctor and wife. 

~~~~

In Bill's travels around the house after I went to bed last night, he spotted a 4-legged visitor at the sliding glass door.

When he first walked by, he noticed the suet container missing.  Next time, there it was in all its adorable splendor----a thieving raccoon.

We have to record this little critter as our first coon sighting at the Lovestead.  We've seen signs of them after leaving garbage sacks in the back of the pickup, but never the real deal.

Maybe Mr. Coon will come visiting again tonight, and I can see him.

~~~~

Gorgeous morning out there today.  I think they call the newest layer of snowfall "corn snow."  I think skiers would like it, and I'll probably give it a try with my snowshoes later.

Yesterday's drive back from Coeur d'Alene was white knuckle from Athol north.  

We were glad to get back here and settle in for a long winter's night.

And, this morning there's the reward outside with the bright sun and new blanket of snow.

I won't complain.

Happy Saturday!

TGJITTO Day

Which weatherman told us we were going to get just a skiff of snow---maybe an inch---yesterday?  Maybe it's the same weatherman who said we'd be having snow off and on over night and that it would start again at 4 this morning.

If that's the same one, I'll follow his prognostications and plan for just the opposite of what he says.

Four-five inches almost nonstop yesterday; no snow this morning.  

The latter is a good thing cuz we're headed to Coeur d'Alene today for some shopping and other maintenance items.  So, it's nice to have no new snow.

It's also nice to know we're finally into the final third of January, so I'm calling this TGJITTO (Thank God January Is Two Thirds Over) day.  

When my horseshoer John Fuller told me a few years ago that we Baby Boomer types were in the final quarter of our lives and not to waste a moment, I began to heed his advice.

When we get to the final third of January every year, I figure once again, don't waste a moment. 

Make every minute count for something positive rather than dreading how much more of January there is yet to come.

If we follow that attitude and fill up our schedules with lots of mind-altering but healthy activities, January will be history before we know it.

And, then comes February.  Some people around here have bad attitudes about February too, but at least it's shorter.  By the time you've reached the 14th, you're halfway there.

Howz that for looking at the glass half full on this TGJITTO (pronounced TaG-JITTO) day?

Now go out there.  Enjoy the day to the fullest.  Use the new word at least ten times to friends, family and strangers.  

Who knows?  Maybe we can coin a new word to join last year's favorite "APP."

Maybe we can also figure out some new APPS for improving our attitudes next time January rolls around.  

Happy Friday!

Border Collie Insanity

~~~Todd, Brooke, Festus~~~

My friend Lori may have her cat Pudgy well on the way to being potty-trained, but I'm quite pleased to say I have discovered the perfect, painless method for keeping the grandpuppies at the Lovestead where they belong.

Let me backtrack.  

Todd, who's on the left, aims to please---big time.  Lately, however, he has taken on an uncharacteristic rebellious streak. 

Maybe he's doing so because his sister Brooke is taking a break from digging holes under all of Bill's trees, going off to visit the neighbors and often refusing to come when called, especially when it's time to get in the car and go home to the condo.

Don't tell Brooke, but Debbie and Willie have learned a ploy for that one.

"Kennel, Brooke, Kennel," they announce when Brooke's playing the daily runaround.

Brooke knows that having to sit on the roof of the dog house within the kennel can go on for hours when adults are gone.  

So, when she hears that command, she cooperates and jumps in the car, bound for her condo home.

This recent Todd rebellion has us both stymied and, at times, scared.

One day I received a call from Geneva next door who had received a call from Janice up the road, reporting that one of our Border Collies was running down the road to Meserve's place.

I thanked Geneva, ran outside and was shocked to see Brooke home, Todd gone.

Rushing to the end of the driveway, I looked both left and right.

No Todd.

I yelled his name several times, then saw him bounding back home through Meserve's field near their house.

I told him not to do that again.

Should have worked, right?  Border Collies are intelligent, comprehending dogs.

A few days went by.  Then came last week's heavy snow dump.  All day long I kept the grandpuppies in the house whenever I was inside.  

Tons of snow continued to rumble off the roof throughout the day.  I did not want them anywhere near it.

Later in the afternoon, I plowed the driveway while all doggies stayed inside the garage.

Then, it turned dark and time to put horses in the barn.  Brooke and Todd are my dedicated assistants during this chore.

 Every night I tell horses to settle down as they buck,  kick and race around, and I tell my assistants to stay back out of the way.

That particular night I noticed Bill come into the driveway from work just as I led Lily (first horse) into the barn.  Then, I noticed only one assistant.

I figured Todd had gone to meet Bill and had followed him inside the house.

So, I went about the rest of my chores, calling his name, just in case he was outside.

I got to the house, opened the door and asked Bill if Todd was inside.  He hadn't seen him but went upstairs to check the bedrooms.

No sign of Todd meant instant hysteria for Granny Love.  

My first horrid thought was that another huge hunk of snow had slid off the roof, burying Todd. 

Shovels came out.  We dug furiously in the areas where snow had slid from the roof since I'd gone to the barn.  

I screamed Todd's name at least two dozen times while digging into the snow.  

Then, Willie pulled into the driveway; still, no sign of Todd.  Another shovel went to work, and I kept screaming.  

Then, I ran inside and called Meserves, asking if they'd seen Todd.  Geneva said they'd turn on their outdoor lights and look.

By the time I walked back outside, there was Todd racing to door from the north, from Meserve's----and the most welcome sight I'd seen that day.

Since then, Todd has gone over to Meserve's one more time.  

At least on that day no snow was sliding off the roof.  Upon his return home, he got into some big time trouble, and I've kept a close eye on him ever since.

Todd and Brooke LOVE cats.  They LOVE to just sit and stare at them---for hours.

Yesterday was one of the first days Festus has been allowed outside because of the snow and cold.

When I walked by the sliding glass door half a dozen times and still saw those dogs transfixed on their buddy Festus, I knew I'd struck pay dirt on keeping them home.

Now, if I can train Festus to stay home, not go over to Meserve's (it's okay if the cats go there; not dogs) and sit on that step all day long, I'd never worry about Todd or Brooke disappearing again.

And, speaking of Border Collie insanity----it goes with the dogs and their owners.  

I saw my former colleague, friend and fellow parent Stephanie Berghan yesterday at Wal-Mart.  

After her initial hello, she announced to me and to the folks in the check-out line that she and Pete own two black and white Border Collies. She'd seen our dogs on Facebook.

I don't even know if the checker got my tab right cuz I instantly became a  crazy lady,  racing back to Stephanie and giving her a big hug-----just cuz she's a Border Collie lover.

And, when she told me that her son Michael (one of Willie's classmates and owner of a winery in Walla Walla) has two Border Collies too, that sealed the deal.  

The Berghans and the Loves are joined at the hip, just as we are with every other Border Collie owner we know.  

Yes, it's insanity, but the good, the bad and the ugly (vomited potatoes) of Border Collies always brings out our deepest passions.

And, as I said to Stephanie and Pete after meeting their dogs yesterday, the Border Collie nation gets along a lot better than a lot of nations do---both owners and their dogs.

Poop 'n Pets: Litter Kwitter

Who says Facebook can't be instructive???  I learned something this morning and, of course, need to pass it on.  

That's the old journalist MO:  grab it; blab it!

So, this morning I'm here to tell you about Litter Kwitter.  Possibly the whole world of cat lovers knew all about it long before I did.

If so, humor me, and listen up like ya've never heard of this before.

Every morning for the past couple of weeks, my friend, former student and hay manufacturer extraordinnaire, Lori, has been talking about going to the bathroom with somebody.

Ya know how you sometimes just don't pay full attention and just deposit something in the far recesses of your brain to chew upon later?

Well, that's been the case with Lori's Facebook posts about her bathroom partner.

This morning I paid more attention to detail when I saw the post: 

Well after a long long period of time we finally went to the bathroom again. He is getting to be a wonderful boy.

Who is this guy Lori's taking to the bathroom, I thought.  And, now that he's wonderful, I'd better get to the nitty gritty of this saga.

For a while I thought maybe she was talking about a new puppy, but then I remembered some pictures she had posted of a pretty feline.  

As I scrolled down, I even found that the pictures were actually a movie of Pudgy pooping in the toilet. 

Yup, 41 seconds of black-and-white Pudgy squatting on the Litter Kwitter kitty seat on Lori's toilet.  The first sounds are just Lori holding the camera.

Pudgy sits a while; then in a few seconds the "cable" as my son used to love to call it, comes flowing from Pudgy's rear, landing in the toilet.  

"What a good boy!  . . . "What a good boy you are!"  It's obvious Lori knows "Love and Logic" and the importance of praise when someone--even a cat---makes the right choices. 

Pudgy suddenly seems satisfied that his business is completed, but a tinge of skepticism directs him to turn around and examine the results for sure.  

Video clip ends.

Underneath the movie posting were the following comments:  

From Mary:  Cool and strange at the same time. Wish i could teach my dog to do that.

From Sarah:  That's so awsome!

So, there ya go.  You can cut down on kitty litter and get a little bathroom humor at the same time.  

I'm sure the novelty will wear off after a while, but you'll certainly be thrilled to know that with Litter Kwitter, you can say good bye to catboxes forever.

My one question remains.  Since they have kitty litter designed for multiple cats, will all cats want to use the same toilet seat?  

I'll ponder that one for a while.  In the meantime, I've got to think about Todd and Brooke, who have not been taught to vomit in the toilet.

Seems Todd and Brooke, the grandpuppies are under the weather this morning, thanks to Granny Love letting them clean up the leftover scalloped potatoes yesterday afternoon.

There's stuff coming out of both ends and potato piles all over the Young Love's condo this morning.  

Now, that's something Debbie should capture on her camera and post on Facebook.

Maybe someone will have answers for what to do when your Border Collie can't make it to the bathroom in time! 

For now, if you want to get those cats headed to the bathroom, Google "Litter Kwitter."   

Tuesday Twiddledeedee

It was a great Monday for Mother yesterday.

Two of her great-granddaughters, Justine and Grace (two thirds of the triplets) and their mother Laura came to visit.

Brother Jacob stayed behind because it was a "girls'" weekend at the Thompson cabin.

After the visit, Mother and I loaded up in the car and headed down the road.

I finally decided the Dufort to Priest River to Sandpoint loop seemed fun.

After all, we were experiencing a small dose of spring.  

North of town most of the snow had disappeared from farm fields.

Not so south of town, though.  

Somehow the hot breath from above during the past several days had not been very effective in melting snow.

Still, the drive was beautiful, especially when we reached the stretch of road along the Pend Oreille River.

Occasionally, the sun would peek out and remind us that it's still up there and functioning, though not shining too generously on us.

Any little sample is welcome this time of year, and the contrast from just a few days ago felt and looked wonderful.

We stopped for a late lunch at the Woodstone Grill in Priest River.

There we met Meadow, our server.   Love that name.

She was very accommodating as she served us well and shared tidbits of her life with us.

Of course, we enjoyed her stories because she has kids and kids who love animals, including horses. 

As the grand finale to our stay, we decided to share a dessert.

Meadow told us the fried cheesecake was the restaurant specialty.

That sounded great, especially with the huckleberry topping.

Our plate came, and, as usual, with any delectable but disgusting dessert, we wondered how we'd eat the whole thing.

Well, as usual, we did.  

Let's see----cheesecake with a coconut breading, covered with whipped topping, punctuated with two red cherries and surrounded by dabs of huckleberries.

Not only artful but delicious . . . to the last drop.

Mother enjoyed her afternoon.  She's been suffering the usual January "sinking spells," as Bill likes to call them, but yesterday's events help lift those spirits.

Thank you, Mother Nature for a welcome break from the ugly weather. Much appreciated.

I was appreciating the change so much that upon arriving home, I removed Lily's blanket and decided to take her for a walk down the road.

Two days ago the road was still a thick sheet of ice; yesterday, mostly bare.

Lily was feeling her oats----even though she hasn't had any this winter---as we walked south down South Center Valley.  

The screaming mimi's in the barnyard,  who were left behind,  didn't help.

So, we walked just a ways and then calmly turned around.  Lily wanted to prance home, but I worked hard at keeping her in a flat-footed walk.

I don't know how long we'll be able to enjoy this January break, but I'm going to enjoy every minute possible.

~~~~

I thought Piers giggled too much last night during his interview with Oprah.  He seemed almost giddy that he had landed her as his first subject.

In spite of that, I thought he elicited some interesting discussion from her.

I often wonder how the ego manages itself when constantly stroked with comments like you're "America's Queen." 

Outwardly, it appears that Oprah handles that as well as anyone.  

I don't always agree with her approaches and admittedly squirm at times with some of the material on her show.

I must say, however,  that she truly demonstrates a classic example of capturing the American dream, i.e.,   hard work, talent, drive, compassion, empathy and probably some good luck will open the door for reaching the stars.

Oprah's life story illustrates that, and Piers did a good job of bringing it out in the interview.

I predict his giddiness will disappear as he becomes more established and comfortable in his new role. 

~~~~

Enough of that.  

Suddenly, this week I have more than enough writing assignments to tackle.  

Like Piers, I'm downright giddy with some of the assignments. 

And, time is a'wastin' on somewhat quiet morning, so I'd better get at it.

Happy Tuesday.