Meet Jonas Love

It's official.  His name shall remain as is: Jonas.  That, according to Annie, now in far-off Liechtenstein, after receiving the offer of renaming the new kitty who came to live at the Lovestead yesterday.

"He should keep the name Jonas," she wrote earlier today before leaving Germany on a train bound for Zurich, Switzerland.  "There's a Weezer song that goes something like 'his name was Jonas.... ' "

So, with no name changes, Jonas should have an easier time adjusting to his new home here in Selle.  Of course, I said to Bill that anything besides the cush conditions at the beautifully laid-out Panhandle Animal Shelter would be a step down for any cat.

Heck, I wouldn't mind living there, except for the fish bowl--er kitty bowl existence.  Those temporary residents have a beautiful facility as they wait to be adopted.

I was told that I would "shop" through the various enclosures, "to clean my hands with the sanitizer" after leaving each unit.  Well, my shopping did not last long.  I looked down, saw Jonas, and said, "I think I've picked my kitty."  

Jonas is three.  Jonas is a friendly guy, although he showed his shy side yesterday after coming to our house yesterday.  I left him in the cat carrier next to the sliding-glass door so he could take in a bit of the lay of the Lovestead land.

After making sure his new home in the tack room of the barn was ready, I returned to the house, let him out and then followed him around as he kept several paces ahead of me.  Finally, he decided on his own to go back to the safety of the cat carrier.

Jonas has come to the Lovestead with a job in mind:  keep the mouse population down in the barn.  And, that's after my latest assault which has netted nearly 50 of those dirty critters in three or four days. 

It may take a while for Jonas to figure out his job description, but if his first night in the tack room (complete with cat condo and cat house) is any indication of his initial adjustment, he should do just fine.

This morning when I opened the door, Fuzzy Wuzzy (his 12-year-old new pal) met me at the opening.  I looked around for Jonas and felt a quick moment of anxiety when I didn't see him right away.  

Well, Jonas was perfectly happy lying on the top floor of the condo.  I think he's found home.  When he finds a few mice and does what cats are supposed to do with mice, he'll have earned all credentials as a full-fledged member of the Lovestead menagerie.

Thanks to Toni, Jessie, Mary and all the members of the Panhandle Animal Shelter staff for helping me adopt Jonas.  

And, I'm betting the Weezer crew is happy, too, to know that there's a cat in Idaho named after one of their lyrics. 

Welcome, Jonas.

Tuesday Twitterdeedum

My friend Chris wanted a new Facebook profile photo. Last year I took her FB profile shot near Lunch Peak lookout, which she occupied and called in fires for a summer season during the 1970s. 

So what better place than near another Forest Service lookout where she also worked years ago!

We were planning to go to Priest Lake, but when Chris arrived at the Lovestead, she had a new suggestion:  Roman Nose Lake.

Funny how I'd had that destination in mind while considering the possibilities earlier.  

So, it took no persuading.  The car headed north rather than west.  

Chris had not been up to the area in decades.  She marveled at its present set-up, which  beautifully laid-out for back country hikers as well as the wheelchair bound.

Board walks around the alpine lake below where a lookout tower once stood allow anyone easy access to enjoy its stunning beauty.

The trip did not disappoint.  We talked steadily, as always, for almost six hours yesterday.  At Roman Nose, we walked part-way around the lake and then plopped on a couple of the huge rocks at one end of the lake.

We topped off the day of visiting with a meal at Slate's, then went our separate ways with plans to do this again next year. 

I'm hoping Chris will like her profile photo, and, if she does, maybe we can add the photo shoot as an annual task for the get-together.  

She snapped a few shots of me, too, with my smaller camera.  

So, I'll let the photos do the rest of the talking except to say I'm including one of Annie in Europe with her 500th geocache find. 

Happy Tuesday.

On the Road Again . . . . down Priest Lake Memory Lanes

Throughout our lives, we tend to pick up a few set rituals,  often symbolic of longheld friendships.  

I feared for a moment last night that my friend Marilyn was going to make me squirm in front of another large crowd.  

As mentioned yesterday, we attended her annual neighborhood picnic for the first time ever.  Seems that every year something stood in the way, but this year's schedule left the door open.

We both had a great time visiting with a few of the many Selkirk Road/Selle folks who showed up.  One couple had just lived in the neighborhood for four weeks, so everyone tried to make them feel welcome. 

That task was not hard for Bill or for me cuz we learned right away of "connections."  Both were retired educators, most recently from Idaho City.  

Bill and Bob also quickly discovered that they knew a Dept. of Lands employee, so that got the ball rolling. 

Anyway, the visiting was going full speed ahead when Marilyn stood on her deck,  rang a bell and said she had "awards" to give out.  

That's when I got nervous.  

"Hope she doesn't have that candle," I said to Bill. Our magic friendship candle, exchanged off and on over the past 35 years,  has served as a crowd pleaser at many events---book launches, weddings, etc.

Fortunate for me, Marilyn bypassed the candle presentation and simply handed out a couple of small trophies.

As I ponder the candle, I don't even know which of us received it last, so it's possible the candle may never light up a party again. 

In the meantime, today signals another friendship ritual---the drive.  Later this morning, my longtime friend Chris Moon will show up, and we'll point the car toward Priest Lake.  

I'm glad we're not repeating all the rituals of so many years ago when our trip to Priest Lake for a monthly Forest Service traffic survey involved getting up at 4 a.m. and being set-up alongside the road north of Nordman by 6 a.m.

There we sat for 12 hours on a Sunday and Monday, stopping all traffic entering the forest and interviewing the drivers on their plans for entering the area---how long, destination, purpose, etc. 

For the most part, people enjoyed the interview, and the more cars we stopped,  the faster the day went. In a couple of cases near Clark Fork, twelve hours sitting beside the road netted only five cars.  Long days!

When we weren't conducting those major traffic surveys, we were driving main roads and back roads throughout what was then the Kaniksu National Forest.  On Mondays we put out traffic counters and recorded starting numbers for each. 

On Fridays, we simply returned to the half dozen or so counters and recorded them.  Each Monday they moved to a different road. 

We also did office work, but the major part of our time as "the girls" was spent driving those Forest Service rigs and perfecting our "truck-driver" waves.  

So, "the drive" has remained our ritual whenever we get a chance to visit.  A full day is required, and several hours behind the wheel.  We get almost caught up each year, and we always have more than enough updates and reminiscing  to share. 

Chris, who lives in Tacoma and teaches at Pacific Lutheran University,  has already been to Priest Lake on this summer's visit.  

She told me last night she'd had a piece of huckleberry pie at Hill's Resort and had been shocked when visiting the Priest Lake Ranger Station to see Wayne Kopiske still working there. 

Now, Wayne goes back a ways.  In fact, I think he may have been working up there back when we drove through and performed our surveying duties in the late 1960s.  I'd say Wayne's dedicated.

I told Chris last night that I'd never been to Hill's Resort, so we agreed to put it on the docket for today.  Whatever else we do during our gabbing/driving tour remains a mystery as yet. 

I'm sure, however, we'll have fun cuz we always did as Forest Service employees and always have on all our subsequent visits, which have sometimes strayed into Canada, just like we did once when we were supposed to be working in the United States.

To say that Chris and I strayed occasionally in our "rigs" would be an understatement.

Anyway, today marks another in the long line of ritualistic trips on back roads through forest lands, and I'm hoping we can keep up the tradition for years to come. 

Happy Monday. 

P.S.  Annie's headed to Munich, Germany, today where she'll meet a friend she knew while going to school in New Zealand.  Her fun continues. 

Meanwhile, Willie re-enters the world of work after his and Debbie's vacation to Canada.  They've got a high school newspaper to produce for the first day of school.

Sunday-Morning Stuff

~~House of the Rising Flower~~

I couldn't resist the title in this photo where I decided to transfer the usual emphasis.  It's an early-morning shot. The sun is rising, as is the flower.  Blurring the house adds a little atmosphere the morning scene. 

Anyway, I was out taking a few photos while waiting for the paper to come.  And, of course this transition into fall offers some nice material, i.e., plums beginning to ripen, apples clumped together on the one tree that produced this year, and colorful late-summer blooms.

This is a day of transition itself.  

Willie and Debbie come home tonight, and the grandpuppies will be happy to see them.  Except for Todd's three-hour disappearance, they've been good pups all week long.

I took them with me on a drive over to the Priest River area yesterday.  Bill had gone with the other two Border Collies on a fishing trip to Lightning Creek. 

It was too hot to do much of anything, so an air-conditioned drive sounded good.  Good choice, too, cuz it was 95 degrees most of the way. 

Last night, I went to the fair to pick up my entries and money.  By the way, my sister Barbara got a wad.  Her goat photo won the digital-photo challenge, and the prize for winning her division and overall was pretty generous, moneywise.  

Today we're planning to attend a neighborhood picnic at my old friend Marilyn Chambers' home.  She's been hosting them for years, but for some reason we've never been able to attend.  Nothing is holding us back today. 

This is definitely an "old friends" time for me.  After seeing and visiting with lots of dear friends at the fair, I'm sure today's picnic will reap some good visiting.  

Tomorrow my old friend Chris Moon and I will set off toward Priest Lake, where we once worked for the Forest Service engineers. We always pick a drive to a pretty area that we once haunted to do our visiting. 

And, Wednesday, the old-time, retired staff members from Sandpoint High School will get together for their annual gabfest at Linda and Ron Hunt's.  

It's scheduled every year on the afternoon when all the local educational staff has to report for work.  The event serves as an annual reminder that we are free and our former colleagues are not. 

Anyway, we're heading into fall now, and times are good. 

By the way, Annie put in a long, adventurous day yesterday on her European work-related trip.  She sent me a note just before heading to bed last night:  

Hello - I've now been up for 21 hours I think, maybe 22.  It was a long day that started in the rain climbing a lift for donuts and then ended in the rain carving my geocaching name into the back of a yellow car (the car is a geocache and you only get credit if you carve your name on it).  

In between was a lot of great experiences including standing at the center of the border between Germany, Netherlands and Belgium - climbing onto a tank called "Battling Annie" in Belgium, hiking up to a fortress in France, having my picture taken about a 1000 times, etc.  

I think Annie is enjoying good times too.

May your Sunday be filled with good times, and for you East Coasters, I'm glad the hurricane was a bit milder than predicted.  Hope all is well.

Happy Sunday. 

Saturday Slight

Bill has been watching hurricane coverage this morning.  I'm guessing people can watch hurricane coverage constantly for the next 24 hours or so as the storm moves up the Atlantic coastline.

The more I see of the coverage the happier I am that we live in a low population zone and that the worst worry we have today is how hot it's gonna get.  

At 5 yesterday afternoon, when I looked up at the temperature in the car, it was 95.

The newspaper tells me we have two more relatively hot days, and then we cool down to the mid-80s.  I'll take that. 

Anyway, on this beautiful Saturday, I've read on Facebook that Annie's on her 5-country geocaching tour today.  She posted a photo with her thumbs up in France. 

Tonight the geo-coinfest has its "meet-and-greet," and tomorrow she'll stay put in Cologne for the official gathering. Then, the next day it's on to Munich, where the locals are organizing a big welcoming geocaching event for her.

Willie and Debbie are enjoying their last day of fun in Canada and will be driving home tomorrow.  That gives Willie two days at home before the official responsibilities of another school year begin on Wednesday.

Again, a summer has zipped by, but I'd say all the teaching members of our family have made the most of it.  So, they'll be ready to start their new school year. 

By the way, Barbara and Laurie participated in the digital photo challenge yesterday at the fair.  If you're on Facebook, you can promote their efforts by befriending "BonnerCounty Fairgrounds," going to the wall, scrolling down to the photo contest, where it says 7 photos.

Barbara's photo is a goat showing its teeth, while Laurie's is a smaller photo of two little girls with a goat.  

Turns out that the organizers turned it into a "vote for" contest.  So, if you want to help my sisters out, just click "like" on their photos.  Voting closes at noon Pacific Daylight Time.  

I ended up missing the contest because of a missing dog.  Mr. Todd, who's very very sensitive, mistook my plea for the dogs to quit jumping at the hose water while I was washing off the lawnmower yesterday.

When I said, "Let's get away," Todd must have misheard and thought I said "go away."  So, he did. 

This is not a new thing for Todd,  as many readers already know.  I have gotten to know his habits when he decides to flea----ultimate destination: a garage or shop where he can curl up and lie low.

My only problem is not knowing which garage or shop he chooses.  Last time Todd left because of the fireworks, he traveled four miles before finding the right place.  

So, I spent my morning yesterday driving through Selle, talking to neighbors and coming back home,  each time hoping someone would have called because they had found him and read his ID tag. 

Turns out Todd did not go far.  This time he chose Taylor's shop across the road from us.  By the time I picked him up and brought him back, the photo contest was over.  

So, I decided to go to the herd-dog competition, figuring I could pick up some tips about herd dogs who decide to run away. 

By the time, I walked to the outdoor arena, the herd-dog competition was over.  

Nonetheless, I did enjoy some nice visiting and several quick hellos to folks I seldom see.  The time spent there was hardly a loss.  

The fair ends today, and this evening we'll go pick up our entries, ribbons and money.  All in all, it's been a great fair.  The displays this year may not have great numbers, but what's there is high quality.  

We were especially impressed with the 4-H wood working exhibit.  Unbelievable craftsmanship. 

The fair organizers did a wonderful job showcasing this year's exhibits.  So, hats off to all who work so hard behind the scenes. 

Guess it's time to get outside and start the morning watering. So, I'll just wish everyone a great Saturday, and if you're on the East Coast, I hope your hatches are buttoned down. 

 

A Fair Friday, Indeed

Annie's giving a thumbs up to her first geocache found in Belgium yesterday. Since then, she's taken off for Cologne, with a planned stop for geocaching in The Netherlands. 

Probably as I write, she is touring the Cologne Cathedral, Germany's greatest Gothic church and home to relics of the Three Magi.  

The magnificent church, with its construction spanning from 1248-1880,  was bombed during WWII, but survived amidst the bombed out ruins around it.

More information and photos can be found at http://www.sacred-destinations.com/germany/cologne-cathedral

Annie told me there's a geocache in or near the church.  So, I'm sure she'll add that to her list of finds.

Meanwhile, back here at home, my sisters and I will be competing in a digital photography challenge at the county fair.

We report at 10 a.m. with cameras in hand.  They'll give us two or three themes to choose from.  Then, we'll have two hours to go shoot pictures around the fairgrounds.

Upon our return to the office, we download our best photo, and judging goes from there.  

Like geocaching, I'm guessing this assignment will give us each a clearer perspective of the many wonderful activities available at our annual fair.

This morning's schedule at the fair includes the herd-dog competition in the outdoor arena, so I'm a bit torn.  Maybe the theme I choose will allow me to take in the event while shooting photos. 

I'd like to take the grandpuppies so they can watch---and watch those Border Collies do.  I can remember one year taking Kiwi and having to hold on to her for dear life while sitting in the stands.

She wanted to leap right out there into the arena and do her work, but the poor dog had to settle for being just a spectator.

We accompanied Mother around the fair yesterday.  She enjoyed seeing all the exhibits where we had competed as well as the fish and game building.  It was hot, but she was a trooper all the way. 

Guess that's all that's on my mind this morning.  Bill took off a while ago with the new-old motor home.  It's going in for some maintenance work.  He says he's planning to talk to them about doing some other projects at a later date.

I guess the big news, which I've learned has been quietly circulating around the community, is that Bill is retiring, with his last day Sept. 30.  

So, that new-old motor home is gaining prominence on the "to do" list so that he "can do" some fun stuff once he's free from the 8-5 grind.

Definitely good times ahead.  For now, I'd better get ready to head to the fair. 

Happy Friday. 

This and That Thursday

I stayed up late last night, 'til after 11.  I tried to sleep but  kept thinking about Annie flying over the ocean.  She told me earlier this week that she would be arriving in Brussels at 8 a.m. their time.  

So, I came to the computer around 10:45 and spent some time visiting my favorite sites.  While I was away from Facebook for a moment or so, she touched down in Brussels.  

Her host, a Brussels cab driver and avid geocacher, was waiting to meet her at the airport and had already welcomed her to Belgium on Facebook.  

Within minutes of the "Yay, Brussels airport," Annie had already received three or four shout outs from around the world.  A good reason to love Facebook.

I yelled downstairs to Bill that Annie had landed in Brussels.  He yelled back, "Good."  So, I let her know we were happy that the first portion of her trip had gone well.

She sent a brief email note this morning, saying she had met Koen's family, that they are very nice.  She wishes she could speak Flemish so she could understand what they're saying, but she kinda likes not knowing too.

Annie has been busy geocaching and checking in at key times (like breakfast)  on Facebook ever since.  Tonight she'll go with the family to attend a memorial concert for the victims of a stage collapse last week, just as tragic as the one in Indiana a few days before. 

Anyway, we're feeling thrilled that she arrived safely and is now full speed ahead with her plans. 

Back here in North Idaho, it sounds like we've got another hot day ahead, two in fact, before it cools down a bit.  My enthusiasm fizzles as soon as the heat turns up too much.

I know that at least one of my dear friends and blog readers who deals with furnace conditions for months probably does not sympathize. Sorry, Mow.

Still, in my mind,  mid-high 70s year round would be okay with me and very helpful for my ambition ignition. 

Not much I can do about it, but gripe, so I'll do my best to survive the day.  It will involve picking some more beans this morning and pulling some of the many lettuce plants in the garden that have gone to seed.

I'll throw them out in the north manure-pile garden and hope that a few volunteer plants pop up next year---for the deer to enjoy, of course. 

It took almost 24 hours to empty Big Blue, the pool,  with the siphen-hose method, but Pasture No. 1 may green up in a few spots.  After all, a few thousand gallons of water should do some good.

On another subject, if anyone knows anything about ornamental plum trees with thorns on the branches, I'd like to know if those plums are edible.  

One of my trees is loaded with pretty wine-colored fruit.  If it's edible, I might use the plums for some jelly.    So, experts:  let me know. 

My other plum trees have about half a dozen plums apiece.  Again, this year I've learned that thousands of blossoms don't exactly translate into bountiful amounts of fruit.  Two of the apple trees have demonstrated that trend too.

The smaller tree of the three fruit-bearing trees is loaded with nice apples, but  winds of the past several days have blown several to the ground.   Horses are happy.  Always something. 

I'll probably go to the fair again today.  Rose Marie and I enjoyed a nice visit while sitting on a bale of straw and eating our brats.  I also met a teen author who has his booth set up on the grounds. 

He's from Bonners Ferry, and his name is JR Parker.   He writes fantasy and has done quite well with his first book, selling 4,000 copies in the past year or so----one book at a time at signings and readings around the country.  

Funny how age makes no difference when authors get together and swap stories about writing and the trials, tribulations and little triumphs associated with selling books. 

I really enjoyed meeting this young man, who seems to have his literary journey well plotted out. 

Guess that's enough for this morning's yakkedy yak.  I'll be heading to the garden while my ambition meter is still reading above average.  

Happy Thursday.

Warm Wednesday

I think today may be one of the hottest days of 2011 here in North Idaho.  I saw one temperature prediction of 93.  Bring out the fans!

Big Blue, my pool,  still sits misshapened in the yard behind the barn about half full of water (coated with leaves).  I've been in the pool twice this summer for about five minutes each time.  It's been sitting inactive so long, though, that the water may not be the best for swimming.

I'm thinking of running one end of a hose into the pool and putting the other end in a strategic place where a little water would do a lot of good---maybe Pasture No. 1. 

This wacky weather year has truly been one of extremes.  Now, we're dealing with no rain in August.  Pastures which were drying up two weeks ago are getting a case of the crispies.  Grasshoppers are in their glory.

I don't want to ask for rain, but I think one day's worth would be nice. 

On this soon-to-be-hot Wednesday, my daughter Annie will soon be in the air, bound for Brussels, Belgium.  When she arrives there, it will be 8 a.m. Brussels time, and she'll spend Friday geocaching before heading to Cologne, Germany on Saturday. 

This weekend, there's a Geo-coinfest in Cologne, where Annie and a colleague will be representing Groundspeak.  Part of the festivities include geocaching in several countries during one day. 

Annie is extending her trip beyond her work responsibilities and planning to spend some time in Switzerland, so her world adventures continue. 

We'll have cosmopolitan kids for a few days cuz Willie and Debbie are vacationing in Canada.  They'll be back sometime this weekend, and I know their doggies will be glad to see them.

Every late afternoon, the watch begins.  While we're watching the news, Todd and Brooke are situated in the living room, watching toward the back door, thinking surely that either Mom or Dad will come walking in. 

I can't even say the words, "Mom" or "Dad" without sudden bursts of excitement and races around the house.  Bill and I are nice substitutes for Mom and Dad, but the real deal means a lot to Todd and Brooke. 

In other news, my sisters and I did all right at the fair.  My sister Barbara took two champion ribbons with her photography.  Her butterfly on a thistle and her humorous photo of Pita in heart glasses earned places on the purple ribbon special display.  

You can check out her work at http://www.flickr.com/photos/misstshs/  I think you can find those two photos with a little searching around. 

All together,  we won 16-18 ribbons in photography, which made us all very happy.  Laurie won blues with her beadwork, and my garden goodies netted about half a dozen ribbons. 

Meanwhile, today is "Brat Day."  My outlaw (her husband's sister is my sister-in-law) Rose Marie Thompson and I will get together for our annual bratfest at the fair.  We missed last year cuz Rose Marie was headed off somewhere on a train trip. 

Anyway, we eat brats and get caught up on our visiting.  She says there's a tractor event at 2, and her husband Jim is very involved in the large antique tractor display at the fair.   So, for Rose Marie it will be brats and tractors. 

For me, it will probably be some more visiting and checking out other exhibits at the fair, if I don't melt away, that is. 

Enjoy this warm Wednesday, and stay cool! 

Tuesday TwitterdeeFair

These items had to stay home. They're not total rejects.

They were selected but just did not get picked to go to the county fair. 

So, they're on display on my kitchen counter.

I discovered yesterday that a dill crown makes a nice accessory for nasturtiums. 

I think I'll have to work on an arrangement.

Anyway, these items were among those selected from the garden and from this year's preserving projects for the fair.

Once I had everything together, I picked through the piles for uniformity of size and quality.  

If I there were a favorite among the garden items, it would have to be my nasturtiums, those growing in the front-yard planter.

They're not only beautiful, but their greens are sensational.  One of the superintendents yesterday even commented on them.  

Those jars of jelly?  None went to the fair.

That's service berry jelly (locals pronounce it SARVICE).  

Preparing the jelly was traumatic, to say the least.

I decided to give it a try Sunday morning, in hopes that I'd have some jars available for the fair.

When Bill---in the bedroom---heard the earthy language being spewed about in the kitchen, he waited to come out to where I was working.

When he did, he actually tried to help me with my problem.

"Stay away!  Don't touch it!" I intoned.

"I thought you might be having some trouble out here," he quipped quietly. 

"Yup," I said, "just stay away."  

The metal standard for my jelly bag had collapsed, just as I was spooning the last of the service berries into the bag.  

An ocean of juice and berries covered a good portion of the kitchen island, including some checks, my pens, my cell phone and the piles of paper---all of which had been moved just in case such an event occurred.

Well, I hadn't moved them far enough.  

Cleaning up such a mess involves planning, so once Bill headed out the door for church, I picked up one berry soaked item at a time and carefully cleaned it off.

I had to take extra care with a check my brother had written me because the berry juice really tried hard to cover up the amount.  Fortunate for me, it was still readable. 

Before the mess had been cleaned, Willie, Debbie and the grandpuppies walked through the door. 

"It's not a good time," I told them.

That's when I walked to one side of the island and discovered even more service berries on the carpet.  

Did I tell you service berries would make good dye?

My hands still have purple pigment, and that's after I washed them several times with soap, water and even a little bleach.  

Lucky for me I found those berries in the carpet before someone stepped on them. 

Long story short, I eventually salvaged enough berries and juice to make some jelly.  The next challenge:  for the jelly to set up.

Well, it still hasn't, so we have some nice service berry syrup for the time being.  I may reprocess cuz it worked the last time.

I also chose not to enter the jelly after reading almost a full page of rules and regulations regarding preserved products.  Too much bureaucracy, I decided.

So, that's the story of the rejects.  Soon I'll know the story of what happened with the items that went to the fair. 

Judging was yesterday, so this morning I'll stroll through the exhibits and see if there are any ribbons.  More than likely, my streak of seven straight blues from last year when I inadvertently entered the senior division will never be repeated.

Now that my stuff is all legal, it's possible I'll rejoice any time I see a ribbon, no matter what color it is. 

Fair week moves on, and today the action down at the fairgrounds will give good reason to stick around for a while.  

They're judging sheep fitting and showing this morning, and a lot of our neighbor kids are competing, so I'll probably take that in.

And, best yet, every day this week I'll delight in the best reward at any county fair:  the visiting.  

Happy Tuesday.  

A Fair Amount of Work for an Old Lady

Those ribbons and that prize money do not come easily.  In fact, when I think back on the $3 for every blue ribbon, $2 for every red and $1.50 for every white, I don't think it ever did.

They talk about inflation.  As I think back, local fair premiums have been pretty much immune from inflation throughout the span of my lifetime.  

Did blue ribbons at the fair ever earn more or less than $3?  Probably not.

I was talking to a lady the other day who told me about her local fair somewhere else.

"It was hard to go home without earning around $300 for the ribbons," she told me.  That astronomical amount was pretty foreign to my ears, and, really,  it does not matter.

If people enter stuff in the fair to make money, they might have their priorities screwed up a bit---unless they're 4-H'ers, that is.  I can remember times when my 4-H premium money served as the big paycheck of the year. 

The only other cash cow that trumped anything earned at the fair was the News Bulletin subscription contest when I earned $17 and lost every penny of it.  

People will tell you not to carry your big wads of money around with you, but at that time as an 11-year-old, I would not listen.

That was the most money I'd ever laid hands on and figured it would be quite some time before such a bonanza ever happened again. So, I liked to show it off.

Well, my pride got the best of me when my wallet filled with those greenbacks slipped from my pocket one day while I was riding the Delamarter's horse Blackie.  

She liked to rear, and, as a youthful daredevil,  I liked riding her when she reared.  Apparently her shock absorbers didn't work with Blackie cuz somewhere along that ride, the wallet popped out, and I never found it again.  

As for our 4-H fair premium money, it usually went straight to First Federal Savings and Loan and sat there until Christmas time when Mother would take us down to withdraw funds from our big accounts of maybe $23.  We'd always leave some seed.  

The withdrawals served as our funds for purchasing Christmas gifts. 

Every year we worked for months to earn those 4-H premiums at the fair, and yesterday I decided that the bureaucratic obligations associated with entering open class exhibits these days is almost as challenging.

I suggested to some superintendents yesterday that filling out each exhibit ticket three times with all the same information, only sometimes in different order,  is almost worse than filling out a tax return.

It took me almost an hour to fill out my exhibit tags for seven photos alone.  I took the rest of the tags with me for homework, and the job still isn't done.  The homework tags will go on whatever veggies and flowers I decide to enter.

At this point, I will divulge to readers a piece of information that occurred to me a year after the fact.  First, I must tell you that they asked me at the in-gate yesterday what my fair number was.

Last year we got assigned fair numbers, but nobody told us to remember them.  So, I had to tell the superintendents I did not know what my number was.  They assigned me a new one, and today for future use, I'll post it:  5117.  

Okay, next year when I enter stuff, I can come back to my blog posting for today and know my number.  

Anyway, back to the original digression:  last year the lady handed me a bunch of yellow exhibit tags.  I filled out seven total.

Last year I won seven blue ribbons (yeah, 21 bucks for Christmas gifts!).  

Well, things started dawning on me last week after the discovery that for me be in a different photography division from my sister Barbara I had to be 65.  

When I pressed Barbara on her assumption that her big sister was 65, she said, "Well, you were in all those senior divisions last year, and, besides,  you keep talking about Medicare."

Well, it quite often takes a while for me to siphen out information coming from various venues and subsequently draw proper conclusions.   

In fact, it took until yesterday to realize that the lady at the superintendent's table last year ASSUMED---yes, ASSUMED that I was 65, so she gave me yellow exhibitors' tags. 

It also dawned on me, thanks to Barbara's comment, that I had inadvertently cheated when I won those seven blue ribbons last year.  

I was competing against all the old people because I did not know that the yellow exhibitors' tags meant you were supposed to be old.

After this lightbulb went on and before I went to the fairgrounds to enter my photography, I decided to keep my big trap shut at the superintendents' desk and see if that lady still thought I was old.

I walked in.  The same superintendent who gave me those yellow tags last year asked for my number.  I told her I couldn't remember my number from last year, quipping, "After all, I'm old; how would you expect me to remember?"

She said I'd have to select a new number, which I did.  Then, she asked how many items I planned to enter.   I said maybe as a many as 17.

The moment of discovery came.  She PICKED UP THE WHITE EXHIBITORS' TAGS and handed them over.

YES--I said to myself.  I'm young again!

And, as a youngster, I still have work to do.  Most of those white tags are filled out, so that means I have to go to the garden and select items that match each form filled out in triplicate.

If I'm lucky, I'll get it all done and down to the fair before the noon deadline.

So, I'd better get going to earn my wad from this year's county fair.  Happy Monday.

A Fair Week Ahead

Turkeys were heading home from a day of travel at the usual time last night.

Pasture No. 2 is their crossing of choice as they move toward the woods where they spent their hours of darkness.

The babies have grown quickly in the past month.  After a few short weeks, the little fellers don't look much different from the mamas.

We haven't seen the turkeys quite as often lately, and we're thinking the coyote sightings might have something to do with that.

I've seen a coyote hanging in the fields twice in the last several days.

Last night I felt fortunate to watch a mama doe and her twins grazing in the tall grass along the swale as I walked around the hay field.

So, it's definitely critter time around here.  

In addition, crisp August nights where darkness is almost full blown by 8 p.m. are signaling a Bonner County tradition:  the fair.  

I've heard lately that our commissioners may have fair funding on the chopping block.  

I hope I've heard wrong.

I can't even fathom such an idea.  Talk about ripping out the whole heart and soul from this county and its longheld traditions.

The fair showcases education and achievement of both young and old, and in many cases, abundant dollars and cents feeding our economy are involved.  

When I think of the $75 I spent at local stores this past week to have some photos printed and matted and multiply that times all the dozens of other competitors who will prepare their work for the photography exhibit alone, I wonder about the wisdom of our commissioners.

When I think of the thousands and thousands of dollars young people earn selling animals in the fat stock sale and the hundreds each youngster puts in to feeding and preparing those animals for sale, I again wonder. 

When I think of all the knowledge learned through 4-H programs and their ultimate fairtime exhibits, I question the wisdom of anyone who would dare touch the funds designated for the fair. 

I certainly hope that what I hear is a rumor, and a misguided one at that.

In the meantime, it is fair time, and there's plenty of excitement in our August pre-autumn air.  

Today I'll walk around my gardens and pick out some flowers and veggies to exhibit. 

Over the next few days, I'll walk around the fair and check to see just how they've done. 

It will be just as much fun to view the talents of young and old who have gathered together some items for competition. 

A friend was telling me the other day about her granddaughter who will be exhibiting photos, garden goodies and some of her drawings.

I'll be checking to see how she does. 

The fair means a lot to that little girl, just as it does to old ladies like me.

Just like the pasture route provides a passage for the turkeys each night, the fair serves as an significant and time-honored transition for another year here in Bonner County.

At this time of the year, all roads---with cars and trucks filled with people, animals and projects of pride---lead to the fair.

When the week-long event ends each year, we know that we'll be entering a new phase where school, sports, hunting, new television seasons, darkness and gradually colder air take over. 

I love this time of year, and I truly hope the fair will be around in its tried-and-true traditions for all the years of my life.

Pictures along the Pack River

At the risk of whining too much about the power going off just as I was about to push the "publish" button for this morning's piece about yesterday's adventure down the Pack River, I'll just post some photos.

My sisters and I gratefully found our end point---the Pack River Bridge on HWY 200---about 6 p.m.

We paddled seven miles, when we should have paddled for six.

Taking a wrong tributary can add additional work and extra aches and pains, especially to hands and arms not accustomed to that much continual motion and stress.

Our journey involved hard work---keeping those pontoons moving---but much serenity, as we enjoyed the scenery along the peaceful river.

We can add this adventure to our list and look back on the August afternoon in the midst of our North Idaho beauty with smiles.

Now, I'll publish before any more power outages occur.

Happy Saturday.

TGIF on the Pack River

If all goes well, my sisters and I will be floating past this spot,  where our family hiked last weekend, sometime this afternoon.

It's been three years since we've used our pontoons.

I dragged mine out, cobwebs and all, from the machine shed the other day and gave it a bath.

Last night I inflated the floats---somewhat---and swept off more clingy cobwebs.

We drove yesterday to scout out the "put in" and the "put out" spots.

We'll put in at the Pack River General Store and put out at the Pack River Bridge on HWY 200.

While we were on our scouting mission, two adequately suntanned bikers rode by, smiled and waved.

As we pulled back onto the highway, another biker came by, looking tanned and dressed in similar clothing to the others.

Laurie surmised that they must be part of a group.

Suddenly my lightbulb flashed on.

"Bill's flipping hamburgers for them at the church tonight," I announced.

With her comment, I'd made the connection that these were part of the group who've been making arrangements with Bill over the phone for the past couple of weeks.

They're cross country riders, many college students, some recent college graduates.

Their mission: helping out with Habitat for Humanity construction projects across the country.

They're in Sandpoint today and planning to take off tomorrow.

Today is a down day for them, so they'll be enjoying the lake and the community.

They're bedding down at the Presbyterian Church, so that's why Bill and his friend Barney flipped burgers and helped out with their dinner last night.

Bill says he'll be going back tomorrow to help cook their breakfast.

In the meantime, we'll be enjoying our mini-adventure on the Pack River.  Bill says to expect 4-6 hours' worth.

We were told yesterday at the Pack River General Store that the river is low, and we may not always be floating but sometimes packing our pontoons through the low spots.

This is an unknown for us sisters, so we'll probably have plenty wacky stories to tell once we've put out "sometime" today.

 

Barbara clocked the drive from the store to the bridge yesterday:  six minutes. 

To say that we'll be taking life at a slower pace is definitely an understatement.

That's okay, especially after the pace of this summer which has flown by much too quickly.

Manure-pile Spuds, et. al.

The new green bucket has gotten plenty of use this week, i.e., huckleberries, various garden goodies and most specifically some large potatoes.

Last night I was curious to see what kind of potatoes the manure-pile patch was producing this year.  

So, I robbed a rather prominent plant of about half its yield.  

Well, it looks like a good year for the spuds.

Yeah, they may have a few skin blemishes, but these Lovestead gems are still doing okay.

Half a plant yielded almost two gallons of potatoes. 

The manure pile grew spuds of similar size last year, and, they were tasty with hollow centers. 

Some in this bucket would make a meal and then some for Bill and me.

Can't wait to bake one, slather it with salt, pepper, onion salt, Imperial margarine and sour cream and then enjoy a delightful potato feast.

About three quarters of my manure pile west of the barn has a spud-plant covering.  The rest is growing a few pretty flowers, two big squash plants and a huge pumpkin with lots of developing fruit.

The only drawback to this kind of gardening is the occasional deer sweep at night where tops of spud plants get chomped off,  and then below the ground, rodents nibble away at the goods.

So, I'll probably harvest the manure-pile plot early, but with spuds this size, I think we're still going to be money ahead on what Bill likes to call our "Depression potatoes."

That thought brings to mind a subject I listened to last night as financial guru Suzie Orman stressed that we can plan to experience tough financial times through 2015.  

Ouch! 

Every time people start talking about the dim financial future, I say to Bill, "Just grow more potatoes!"  

This year, it looks like my gardens are helping out with that plan. 

~~~~

In other farm news, we had a wildlife sighting and some turkey chaos this morning.  

As I was walking back from leading Lily to pasture, I looked over and saw a coyote in Meserve's field. 

It saw me about the same time; then it turned and trotted away.  

I attempted a feeble coyote-like yowl, which caused the critter to pause, turn around and look at me.  Then, off through the grass it ran, probably unimpressed.

A few minutes later, I was walking across the road to get the papers.  Two cars had passed and had slowed down just beyond our place.

The turkeys!

Yeah, they were crossing the road, probably to go into Taylor's field when the traffic came along.

The usual orderly discipline of the gobbler troop fell apart.  Turkeys scattered every which way.  

Young turkeys went ballistic, scurrying to and fro,  trying to figure out where to go.

The pickup driver, who was in a hurry to get to work, honked and honked.

  Finally, he wheeled out to the left to avoid two young strays who were in a panic on the opposite side from their group.

Once he passed, the strays raced to their mommy, chattering and waving their wings.  

It was a traumatic moment that turned out well.  All the turkeys got to the other side of the road and went on their way. 

~~~~

And, I'd better get on my way.  Lots to do, especially with printing photos for the fair.  I looked over the fairbook and saw that we need to enter our goodies by Monday noon.

Why is it that suddenly the deadline for entering exhibits for the fair is just days away?

I guess that's how it goes with fast summers. 

And, by the way, speaking of speeding through life---for those who noticed a blog error---I did realize around noon yesterday that it was, indeed, Wednesday and not Tuesday.

I felt a little stupid for about an hour, but when my friend Chris also thought it was Tuesday, I figured it was, for sure, a summer mental failing which has nothing to do with age----cuz she's younger than I.

Happy Thursday . . . I think! :)

Wednesday watchdadeerdrinking

If the three deer photos all successfully appear on my site this morning, consider it the "wishing I had a telephoto" series.

Also, consider it "the humans are watching you, deer" story.

I stood helplessly and quietly by, leaning on my car hood yesterday, trying to get the best possible photos of this unaware doe.

She had come to the field near Elmira to get a drink.

And, drink she did, totally oblivious of my presence and unaware that I wished my lens could only get closer.

So, this morning, you'll see blown-up photos, but the story is still a good one.

After snapping a few pictures, I clucked and whistled.   She wasted no time leaving the water hole.

~~~~

I was on my way home from what looked to be a total bust in huckleberry picking.  

When I do solo picking, conditions have to be perfect cuz I'm the world's biggest fraidy cat in the woods.

The dogs were with me as I started up Grouse Creek Road and then turned off on the road heading over the mountains to Elmira.

Perfect conditions meant berries needed to be near the road within running reach of the car. 

That road, I can tell you, lacks anything close to perfect, including huckleberry brush.  

Most of the roadside includes grassy fields or shaded areas with no growth under the trees.  

Still, when you take off huckleberrying, you have to rationalize that getting to the back country is reward enough in itself.

The further I drove the more I rationalized.  That pretty green bucket sat empty in the front seat beside me until I found one tiny patch of huckleberry bushes.  I think about 20 berries rolled around in the bottom for the next few miles.

We were on the descent toward Elmira when I spotted a bush with some berries, right beside the road.

Actually, upon closer inspection, several bushes had dusty berries.  I didn't care at this point about the dust.  Just to bring back some berries of any kind was of the utmost.  

I walked across the road . . . . 

. . . . and found the Garden of Many Berries:  bright red, huge thimble berries, two or three vines of dewberries (big berries, some even black) and HUCKLEBERRIES, almost unlike I've ever seen them.

The "clumps of grapes" image comes to mind or maybe the service berry bushes of this unusual year.

Big huckleberries,  too,  and just right ripe. 

The car continued to idle and dogs stayed patiently in the back seat as I picked through the patch, often thinking I might be dreaming.  

Berries just don't come like this, and three different kinds no less.  I wonder if a Johnny Berryseed came through and dropped off some scatterberries.  

Whatever the case, my bucket bottom was covered and my fingers were purple within 15 minutes. 

So, it turned out to be a fun trip along with the great berry find of Aug. 16.

I may take off down another road with the dogs this week or next and see what else is out there.  

For now, the refrigerator has a bowl of sundae topping, waiting for more Meadow Gold French vanilla ice cream. 

~~~~

I discovered this morning that my horses rival me in the "fraidy cat" category.  This marks the day that the hay field is open for grazing.  

Ironic how during the wettest year on record, I've had to abandon the other pastures earlier than ever because they're drying up.

Anyway, I led Lily down the lane and got her pumped up about getting to go to the hay field this morning.  She seemed excited.

I opened the gate and let her out.

Next, came Heather.  As we started down the lane, I spied Lily waiting at the gate.

When it was Lefty's turn, two horses were waiting at the gate.  Apparently, their perfect patch of grass involves having their friends nearby.

So, once all three were in the pasture, I swung the rope and encouraged them off into the waiting grass.

~~~~

Definitely a fall feel in the air this morning.  Someone on Facebook said it was 39 at their house.  

Why did the summer all go so fast this year?

~~~

I'll ponder that question in the bean patch where I don't need dogs to protect me from the scary creatures.

Happy Tuesday---er Wednesday.  Time flies, especially this time of the year. .

On Fair Photography

"You're in a different category, Marianne," my sister Barbara told me.  "We won't be competing against each other."  

That announcement graduated to an all-out encouragement for me to enter some photos in this year's Bonner County Fair.

Since that day, Barbara has reminded me of the photography competition in little ways----sharing this year's general rules such as only black or white mattes, etc. or suggesting to me that with my time opening up after a busy summer,  I could get some photos ready for the fair.

Coming from such a talented photographer, this encouragement got me to thinking:  maybe there are some photos among the thousands I've taken this year that might be "fair" competition quality.

Today is the first full free day I've had in some time, so this morning I decided to check out the photography rules in my fairbook. They all seemed easy enough to follow.

Then, I looked at the competitor categories, which did include a "special" division for folks with disabilities.  

"Didn't Barbara mention the name of the category I could enter?" I got to thinking.  "Hmm, seems like she may have used the word 'special' in one of those conversations.

Maybe, maybe not. 

Anywho, she did get one fact really wrong.  The only other category I could enter other than "special" was "senior."  

To enter the "senior" category, one must be 65.  

Thanks, Barbara! I'll have to wait a year, even if you do think I'm an older coot than I really am.

As we stood around the kitchen island and I continued looking over the photography info.,  I announced to Bill that I had my excuse.

"I'm not 65 yet," I said. "Besides,  it's pretty expensive and time-consuming to get all those photos ready."  No way I could compete with Barbara in any category.

Bill wasn't letting me off the hook.

"What about that photo you took of the people on the bridge?" he asked. "Oh yeah, I suppose I could enter that one (a silhouette of a family crossing the Kootenai Falls swinging bridge)," I responded, heading upstairs with my latte.

I'm surrounded by phenomenal photographers---in my family---and among my friends. Just met another gifted shutterbug last weekend when Kelli Keough's husband came to the Lovestead and kept his camera in seemingly constant use.

I look at photography competitions much the way I do horse shows.  

I'd much rather observe and behold the eye of those gifted people who see the images and capture them at unique, stunning moments.   

As for horse shows, I'd much rather watch beautiful horses performing with beautiful riders than go through the agony of participating myself. 

Call me the cheerleader, but there's so much talent in this world that some of us folks need to sit on the sidelines, spectate, clap our hands and yell "Yay!"

That's what competitors live for.  Granted,  they chase after the challenges because of the journey involved getting there, but they also love the acknowledgement.

I'm glad this morning not to be 65 but still may pick out a few photos to enter, just so Barbara, Laurie and I can do what we did in the fair horse show---- participate as three sisters with a common passion. 

More than likely, though, I'll be just as happy to yell "Yay" whenever I see pretty ribbons on my sisters' photos.

Next year----when I'm 65 and truly a senior---I'll get really serious about picking out photos for the fair. 

Special Note:  If you haven't checked out Barbara's latest shots, you can visit her Flickr website at http://www.flickr.com/photos/misstshs/    And, do click on that "powwow" category.  Pretty neat stuff. 

A Huckleberry Sunday

Two Sundays, two prizes, two sundaes.

Last Sunday Lily won the bucket as prize for first place in walk-trot at the horse show.

Yesterday the bucket provided us more rewards: our first picking of huckleberries for 2011.

Last night we enjoyed the fruits of the past two Sundays of good tidings: huckleberry sundaes from those berries in the bucket.

~~~~

As Mother's weekend birthday celebration wound down, most participants went back to a quieter life, while some took to the road.

Jim and Dani headed home to Southern Oregon.

At oh-dark-thirty, Barbara and Laurie headed to a dressage show in Spokane. Laurie told me they left Colburn at 5:30 and returned by 1 p.m.

She and her horse took a first and second in their two tests.

Annie and her friend Laurel hung around at the Lovestead until early afternoon; then, they left for a campout at Green Bay on Lake Pend Oreille.

They'll drive back to Seattle this morning.

Once we said our good byes, I asked Bill if we could go for a moderately short drive, with plans to be back by 6 or 6:30.

We loaded up dogs and headed north. He turned off on the Trail Creek Road.

I hadn't been up there for a number of years, so I was enjoying the roadside scenes and spectacular vistas of the Selkirks.

I took several pictures, but they're not on my camera this morning.

A little later on up the road,  we settled into picking some berries for dinner.

My camera was swinging from my shoulder all during picking time, just in case a critter came along to have its picture taken. 

I'm guessing some key button must have been touched, removing all the photos.

That photo above is the only image from yesterday's travels. Still, what I saw is pretty etched in my mind.

We drove alongside some beaver ponds where stunning grass swirls floating on top of the water took my eye.

A little further an ancient moss-covered stump with a big hole in it and a bright green bush skirting it from behind rose from the pond.

We eventually parked at a wide-open spot where there's a nice , clean Forest Service potty john and several metal pens for folks planning to ride their horses on the trails and roads taking off in a couple of directions.

We walked down a trail to the creek and enjoyed a lovely, peaceful waterfall. Crossing the creek was not an option, and we agreed the bare hillside along the trail offered no hints of huckleberries.

So, we picked our way back to the car, having no problem finding the berries.

I'm disappointed this morning that I don't have photos, but that huckleberry sundae last night and the relaxing hike and time spent picking more than make up for the lost images. 

Besides, I have an excuse now to go back, take pictures and pick a few more berries. 

I'm sure Roman Nose will still be there, along with Gun Sight Peak and some of the other beauties in the Selkirks.

And, I bet those beaver ponds will still have their splendor.

As for the huckleberries, I'd better schedule that trip fairly soon.

The dogs, Bill and I always enjoy huckleberry Sundays. Yesterday was a good one.