Friday, the 13th: This Could Be Your Lucky Day or Not

On the last Friday the 13th, my sisters and I left town and flew to Phoenix.  We ended the day eating a midnight meal of pancakes, eggs and bacon, etc. at Denny's Restaurant in Scottsdale and then  found the room where we'd be staying for the next three days.  Friday, the 13th had ended by then. 

Guess we lucked out on that day because all went well except for the $2 I lost in a slot machine during our layover in Las Vegas. 

This Friday the 13th will be spent right here in Sandpoint, so at least I won't throw away any money gambling.  

Will the day be filled with luck or not?  That is the question.

So far, so good.  The worst thing that's happened is that I left the barn-cleaning cart out in the yard and fell behind in my morning chores by all of one minute. 

I tend to think about luck on this particular Friday, the 13th because we're leading right up to celebrating the "Luck o' the Irish" in a few days with St. Patrick's Day, which honors the patron saint of Ireland.  

I read about St. Patrick in today's paper and how, as a boy, he was kidnapped from his home in England and spent the next few years as a slave in Ireland.  When he went back to England and became a priest and a bishop and eventually decided the course of his life, he said Ireland had called him back. 

The rest is history, a whole lot of it and these days hundreds of years later,  St. Patrick is revered in Ireland and in most of the world.  I'm not sure how much luck he brought the Irish back in those days, but they say he did get rid of snakes, spoke strongly against slavery and converted many people to Christianity. 

Actually, "Luck o' the Irish" may be more of a figure of speech than it is a fact of life.  In fact, I haven't ever felt that luck just cuz I'm Irish.  

Still, it's good to hope that once in a while the "luck of the Irish" shines upon us.  

For example, if luck be with me in the next few days, there's one major event I'd like to see happen.  

I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in hoping really hard that THE COMMITTEE which, on Selection Sunday,  determines seedings and locations of NCAA teams for March Madness, sends the Gonzaga Bulldogs to Seattle. 

Now, that would be some really good luck for the Irish among us, cuz this time next week several of us family members be walking into Key Arena near the Space Needle, dressed in our ZAGS garb and hoping to see our team play whoever THE COMMITTEE has deemed a worthy opponent for the first round.  

That would be nice.  Fingers crossed.  Still searching for the four-leaf clover to go along with this wish. 

Let's see what other luck could come on this Friday, the 13th.  I don't plan to buy a lottery ticket so that idea can be cast aside. 

Actually, lucky days cannot be planned.  Luck falls upon us when we least suspect it, and, as far as I'm concerned, if I don't slip on a banana peel and most things go well without any dire incidents, every day is a pretty lucky day.

We have a lot of those, and when we look at the alternative possibilities in other parts of the world, we're pretty darned lucky most of the time----even without the lottery tickets or the slot machine bells ringing like crazy cuz we're a winner. 

This morning I read an account on Facebook posted by a former student who has learned from doctors that she has three-to six months to live.  She has fought cancer courageously for the past several years, only to learn that further treatments will be fruitless.

This student had the courage to post to her Facebook friends the general details of her situation.  Reading her words and thinking of the bright, shining inspiration she has been ever since I knew her as a student several years ago make me think very seriously about luck and good fortune. 

Suddenly, winning a lottery ticket or having some fantastic situation befall us from out of the blue seems pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of our life journeys.

I feel lucky this morning that I've had the opportunity to know this friend and former student all these years. Every time I've seen her smiling face----those times have been gifts. 

And, as I've expressed so many times, luck comes our way each day---not just Friday, the 13th but virtually every day in the form of good health, good family and wonderful friends. 

So, we all have our lucky days, and whether or not this one, with all its historically superstitious elements, brings good or bad luck, comparatively speaking, we're pretty darned fortunate, most of the time. 

In honor of my student who has inspired so many people with her courage and her positive outlook, I'll simply say, "Smile, it's a good day." 

Happy Friday. 

Throwbacks, Such Memories . . . .

I can't help but think "This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad" in reference to the photos I selected for today's Throwback Thursday.

Of course, I think of most days in that reference, but there's just something very special about the selection----as it reflects happy times, special days and, of course, special people.

This is the day the Lord made for my mother to marry my stepfather Harold back in 1954. 

I thought the day was pretty special back then----not so much because my mother and the neighbor from down the road at Racicots were getting married, but in my 6-year-old mind the fact that I got to take a dollar to school for hot lunch might have trumped the wedding plans. 

Mother and Harold farmed us out to the Bests and the Crocketts and headed off to Thompson Falls to get married March 12, 1954.  

Forty-seven years later, they posed with their grandson Willie on his wedding day, Aug. 11, 2001.  That was when Arby Melt Boy married Polar Swirl Girl aka Willie and Debbie. 

Today, March 12, 2015,  the little guy in the photo below became a teenager.  Happy Birthday to my grand-nephew Rory. 

Back in the late 1980s, when I advised the Sandpoint High School Student Council, we had a couple of speakers come for our spring dinner-----how many remember Faye Stevens' restaurant aka home perched on the lower mountain above Robinson Road?  

The road may have a different name these days, but we oldsters still think of Lloyd and Betty Robinson who lived on the road way back when.

Anyway, Faye said we could have our dinner up there in her home that looked over Sandpoint.  So, Chris and Debbie, who happen to be the same age, came to speak to the student leaders about their own experiences. 

These days Chris is still traveling to Europe with college students from Pacific Lutheran University and doing research for PLU and the University of Washington.  Debbie still sells real estate in the Sandpoint area.

Bill and Chris visiting before the Student Council dinner at Faye's house. 

Every day this becomes more of a special memory for me, as some of these lovely ladies aren't in the best of health.

They're the Coffee Cult, and some of them have been having coffee on Saturdays for more than 30 years, maybe even close to 40.

One time we went to Joan's house in Sunnyside and had some of her fresh-baked cinnamon rolls and coffee while sitting at the dining room table suspended from the ceiling.

Definitely a wonderful memory with some wonderful women. 

Pope Francis, look at these angels!

Your writer friend Cindy is even related to the most angelic one of all.

I'm related to one of them too.  She wants an audience with the Pope, but there might be some strings attached, should Francis grant her that opportunity.

I think all these little communicants have grown into fine, upstanding adults. 

My dear friend in crime, touching videos and ZAGS passion, Jeff.  Jeff and his dad were in Las Vegas for the WCC Tournament, and they donned their mustaches to bring good luck to the team.

This photo----taken at ???? (hint:  a famous local pizza parlor) a few years back when a bunch of my Cedar Posters got together over holiday break. 

Yeah, this is a throwback all right. I don't see a gray hair showing in either on of those heads.  These days----both are handsomely gray.

And, as you might expect, the basketball went along on the bike ride.  Might have been a City Beach run for Willie and Bill to play a little ball. 

This young man, soon to be 38, attended his first Trout Unlimited banquet the other night with his dad.  

A love for fishing comes almost as close as basketball (where you can never watch enough basketball).  Wille's been taking his various rods on fishing trips for some time. 

Happy Thursday, and happy memories to you! They're the best part of life! Let us rejoice and be glad for our lives. 

A Good Day . . . .

Twas a significantly good day yesterday. 

Two big wins dear to my heart and the opportunity to watch a magnificent actor at work:  it doesn't get much better than that. 

What more can be said about the ZAGS other than, "Dance on, Champs! You're the class act we so love." 

Twas a big, big win last night, definitely one where the word spread far beyond Las Vegas. 

No point in the news that the ZAGS had won yet another WCC Tournament Championship staying in Las Vegas.

The other win, closer to home but in its own way every bit as important:  the voters in our district soundly supported students and staff for Lake Pend Oreille School District----unofficially 70 percent, no less! 

No trophies with this victory, but definitely a resounding pat on the back for folks involved in our local public education and the assurance that programs can continue to move forward. 

I saw and experienced education in action yesterday when Sorab Wadia from New York's American Place Theater provided a magnificent performance of an adaptation from the novel The Kite Runner.  

He and arts educator Brad Raimondo of the New York theater's Literature to Life program came to Sandpoint to work with students and the public, thanks to coordination from Pend Oreille Arts Council.  

Yesterday's morning performance included students from Sandpoint High School and Lake Pend Oreille High School.  

From the second he walked on stage, Wadia captured his audience and held them spellbound for nearly an hour.  In the performance, the actor, who grew up in India, masterfully switched back and forth from one character to another.   

It was a powerful, provocative and emotionally draining performance----dealing with family dynamics, friendship, loyalty, fear, inner turmoil, etc.,---for both actor and audience. 

Later, students from both schools had the opportunity to ask questions and discuss how the performance affected them personally. 

Attending this educational event seemed so appropriate on a day when voters were determining the future direction of local schools.  

All in all, twas a great Tuesday, powered by a winning spirit,  hard work and determination for all entities involved.  

The best part:  those efforts made a lot of people very happy. 

Thanks to the voters, the American Place Theater and POAC and finally to our beloved ZAGS for providing a very good day. 

Spring Cycling, Et. Al.

Two ways of looking at it:  spring is cycling into our region and I enjoyed some challenging but exhilarating cycling on yesterday's beautiful spring day.

Twas a day where accomplishing outside work projects completed (or is it "finished," Helen?) reaped the reward of an afternoon of biking in the National Wildlife Refuge near Bonners Ferry.  

Plus, I stopped along the way to snap photos of streams flowing through their cycle of warming up to melt the ice that has coated them through the winter.  

Some ice remains and adds an artistic touch to already beautiful scenes of water rushing from snowy origins in mountains like magnificent Roman Nose toward ultimate destinations on the flats.

The Kootenai Valley is pretty and inspiring the year around, regardless of grass colors or trees in their seasonal appearances. Yesterday's brilliant sunshine created an inviting environment for a bike ride, at least from my pickup view.

Pedaling, however, went from relatively high speed for my old-lady leg muscles to almost slow motion as a brisk south wind whipped a formidable and steady gust through the area.  
I pretty much knew once I started that I would be earning my medals for at least half of my ride.

Still, it was so nice to be out there in the sweet solitude of that huge expanse, listening to geese, ducks, swans and other birds, that I accepted the fact that pedaling would be slow and that occasional stops would be necessary. 

The day went well all the way around.  Bill took off work at noon and headed off with his fishing gear for the first time this year.  He also went north to the confluence of the Kootenai and Moyie Rivers.  

Fish were not biting, he reported later.

My morning projects involved cutting lower limbs from trees or protruding limbs from shrubbery in the big flower beds.  

The object:  no bumps on the heads or need for contorting my body while mowing the lawn. Some of those heavy lower limbs have done a number on my head for years.  

Other years, we have not had the luxury of taking such proactive approaches to the irritations that go along with keeping up with the yard work.

So, this spring, summer and fall, I may not have to duck or lean way out to the side while driving my mower past or under these now absent obstructions. 

The day ended well too as the ZAGS were back to their usual form in last night's game with Pepperdine.  They face a major challenge tonight in the championship because BYU is coming on strong.  

Should be quite a game.  GO ZAGS!  Love this new video:



Also, while thinking our local young people and providing them a wonderful education: GO VOTE in the levy if you're a local, and tell your friends to do the same.  

A "YES" vote would be very nice, very appreciated and definitely helpful in keeping our school district moving in a positive direction.  

After all, considering the alternative can be pretty unsettling . . . .

Adjusting

The most difficult part of Daylight Savings Time is over for another year.  I flunked this year's initial adjustment to a certain extent.

The clock, which had been turned ahead, said 5:15 when I awakened yesterday.  That's almost 45 minutes later than my usual rise and shine, meaning much less time for sipping that first cup of coffee and catching up on overnight Internet stuff. 

After all, the horses would be waiting for their usual 6 a.m. breakfast, or would they? 

Hey, nobody told the horses about Daylight Savings Time, so maybe they'd be okay if I came strolling into the barn later than usual.

That was an option, but time does not stand still, and if I fed the horses and cleaned barns later than usual, that would set me back on my newspaper reading.  

And, yesterday was Sunday with the fat papers. 

Newspapers don't know it's Daylight Savings Time, and they could probably care less if they were read late, BUT tardy reading of my newspapers would set me back on posting my blog, and if that happened, these "morning duties delayed" would come back to haunt me. 

After all, Helen would be there at her house in town, waiting with her cup of tea and her sharp eye for Marianne's slight detours from language accuracy. 

And, if that blog showed up much past 8:05 a.m. yesterday, there could possibly be trouble at the Lovestead, and Helen would be sending off an email, asking "Is everything okay out there?" 

I also realized that I could not rest on the possibility that Helen might have forgotten to change her clock or that maybe she, like me, would have slept in.  

So, I kept myself on that 6 a.m. feeding schedule with a bleary brain and a body not quite ready for shoveling. 

The only noticeable difference in horse behavior yesterday:  Lily did NOT kick the side of her stall.   I think she was still waking up as I carried piles of hay to the barnyard.

So, the boards in her stall got some rest from that well-trained hoof which often strikes so hard that the nails lose their grip and one end of a board swings well into Lefty's stall.  

I have faith that Lily will quickly adjust to the earlier feeding time, and probably this morning I'll have to yell the usual "Knock it off!" as I walk by her stall with a pitchfork filled with hay.   

Of course, Lily's a smart horse and she understands English, so she'll probably kick a little harder to follow my instructions and knock that board completely off from the post where it's nailed.

Yesterday I also observed to see if the dogs arrived at the barn with their toys, precisely 30 seconds after the horses had started their breakfast in the barnyard. 

Their usual pattern is to escort me to the barn, bounding along with their smiles, then quietly return to the garage where they watch with those ever-vigilant Border Collie eyes to see exactly when that barnyard gate closes for the second time.

That's the cue for Kiwi to bring the coffee can, blue ball, pine cone or a piece of rolled up birch bark for me to throw two or three times while cleaning the barn. 

Daylight Savings Time failed to change their routine.  

As for me, my stomach didn't growl quite as early, I read the papers on time and posted that blog in plenty of time for Helen to do her proofreading.  

I see from Facebook that my assistant editor Cherry is on the road (where the speed limit is 80 mph.), and she's in another time zone, so she may not be providing her usual prompt back-up.

Well, we've gotten through that first rigorous day of Daylight Savings time, and this morning, it was business as usual as I awakened on time and noticed that Lily, although still a little slow at the punch, had her right hind leg ready to launch a swift kick as I led her out of her stall.  

Tomorrow we'll more than likely return to the daily "Knock it off." 

I noticed a couple of other adjustments to the time change yesterday.  

No turtleneck.  

Now, that apparel change doesn't often happen with the spring time change, but since we have such unseasonably nice weather, pushing into the 60s, I decided my usual three layers needed to be reduced.  

So, the turtlenecks will get a rest, at least temporarily.

What won't get a rest as long as the weather remains so nice is my bike.  It came out of storage after a long winter's nap which had allowed most of the air to escape from the back tire.

Bill aired up the tire for me, and after watching the news, I took my first spring bike ride down Selle Road.  

How soon we forget the wonderful sounds of early spring evenings as the assortment of neighborhood birds are singing their swan songs and those unsettled Canadian geese are honking as they fly from one pond to another. 

I noticed this morning too, even with the darkness due to the time change, that all the birds are early risers and happy enough to send their melodious morning tweets through the cool air. 

Yup, we have a lot of adjustments associated with our time change, but when it's spring, the sacrifice of that lost hour seems minimal compared to all the uplifting, vibrant days ahead. 

Happy Monday.  GO ZAGS!  

Sunshine and Siblings . . . .

 It was a last-minute plan to take off to someplace close by with our cameras.  After receiving the text from Barbara, I called her and asked where she wanted to go.  

While listening to me talking to her, Bill, who was headed off later to the Trout Unlimited banquet, suggested the Wyman property at Naples. 

Bill has been wanting my sisters to see the place, and with the springlike weather of late, we figured the walking trails through this beautiful game preserve would be fairly dry. 

So, with camera equipment in hand, my brother Jim, sisters Laurie and Barbara, and I headed up HWY 95, and, within minutes, had parked the car to try to catch shots of white swans at the north end of McArthur reservoir. 

I think those photographers among us with the magna telephoto lenses may have gotten a few shots of swans, but I stuck to what my lens could capture----a couple of geese. 

We then moved on to the north entrance of the Wyman property.  

As an aside, I must stay that this property does have special family meaning in that Les and Violet Wyman were friends of our parents.  My dad bought a Hereford bull or two from Les way back when . . . .  I also think Harold may have done some hunting in that area years ago. 

It didn't take long for my sisters to see the wonderful potential of this place for some nearby trail riding, and, of course, Laurie, who has her students involved in forestry contests every year, saw the potential of tree identification with all the attractive signs informing visitors of tree species. 

We had just a short time to enjoy the place because we needed to get back for chores and the ZAGS game.

Nonetheless, our experience turned out to be a pleasant walk in the woods, complemented by a few fun photo ops----one of which included those voices we heard as we were returning to the car.

"Turists," I announced, mimicking Bill's frequent claim whenever we (who, of course, are not "turists') encounter someone invading our "own private domain."

Turns out these "turists" were riding their horses and that they are much more familiar with the Wyman property than the lot of us combined.  They ride the area in spring and fall and love it because horses do not need to be shod. 

One of the "turists," Sarah, recalled having both Barbara and me as teachers and, more specifically, a time when Barbara required her to write 25 sentences in cursive about never ever again launching "projectiles" in Barbara's class.  

I think Sarah joins an illustrious group who can remember completing that same writing assignment.

Anyway, our spontaneous photo shooting adventure turned out to be great fun on yet another day of magnificent spring weather where other four legged critters were out and about in the sun and even others took time to soak up the warmth while napping.  

We have been so blessed with our weather, and I feel equally blessed spending such a fun outing with my brother and sisters.  Somehow, with age, those opportunities take on more meaning than ever before. 

Happy Sunday. 

Saturday Slight

Today definitely needs to be a "Saturday Slight" because of so much to do, so little time. After all, we're losing an hour, and I'd just as soon lose it BEFORE I go to bed tonight. 

So, I'm even starting my blog early to make up for a few minutes of that lost hour. 

I'm also feeling a lot more like embracing this day's challenges than I did at this time yesterday morning when even getting out of bed seemed like a major chore. When one's body lets down, it's not good, but when the mind follows suit, it's gonna be a bad day. 

Yup, that cold/flu everyone has been talking about took hold about mid-week, and as much as I tried to fight it off and push on, the bug turned out to be a much more formidable adversary. 

Aches, pains, congestion, nostrils running like water faucets on full throttle, endless sneezing, watering eyes and no energy---definitely a touch of the flu, I finally concluded as every move during my morning required a voice from within guiding me, "If you just get through this, you can go sit down in a warm spot." 

Quite a contrast from the usual days of feeling like a million dollars and moving along with a bounce in my step while feeding horses, cleaning barns and completing all the other morning projects.

Yesterday afternoon, after taking some over-the-counter cold meds, I started feeling well enough to do some needed shopping and to stop off at the Pack River General Store on the way home for a cup of coffee.

"How ya doing?' Ali, a former student, asked as I paid her for the coffee.

"Today's not a good day to ask," I responded, explaining my ailments.

That's when Laura, another former student,  stepped from the kitchen and took over the conversation.  

"Olive leaf spray," she said.  "Go to Super Drug, and get a bottle."  Then, she went on to tell how members of her family had contracted the bug, used the spray and had recovered quickly. 

"I used to have to listen to you in class; now you have to listen to me," Laura firmly lectured her old teacher.  "Go to Super Drug, or you can get it at Winter Ridge."

So, I did as told.    I drove to Super Drug, summoned Kendall, one of the pharmacists, and asked about the Olive Leaf spray.  She found me a bottle, and before leaving the parking lot, I had already opened the container and sprayed a few shots at my throat.

The flavor takes some getting used to, and on the way home I was thinking about the possibility of this being a snake oil-style placebo.  

Directions say to spray every half hour as needed.  So, I followed directions, and by the time we were ready to go to dinner, I actually felt a little better.

I don't know if Olive leaf spray is the answer to my misery.  Maybe my mind had come back to life enough to ward off the evil flu-bug demons.  I just feel a whole lot better, and that's what's important.  

Life is too short to be sick, especially when Daylight Savings is gonna take an hour of it away. So, if I've willed myself back to a reasonable state of healthiness, so be it.  And, if the Olive leaf spray did the trick, that's okay too.  

In other news, Willie gave me the most recent issue of the Cedar Post last night.  I think he's pretty proud of this issue, and I'll second his pride.  The paper did a wonderful job of fulfilling one of the basic rules we first learned in journalism-----names make news.  

Stories include stuff about the levy and a feature on high-school partying and efforts to educate parents via skits where students role model behavior at current-day parties.  

I also read a fascinating story about a young man who has become skilled at replacing cell-phone screens.  There's another interesting feature about a student who builds guitars from scratch.

Readers also get to learn a few little-known facts about their teachers.  One can't multi-task; another once had a job shocking fish and yet another creates and stars in her own math-related videos.  

The back page has a "style guide."  In some circles, that's what journalists follow when they're writing stories; in this issue of the Cedar Post, it's a feature showing the fashion trends---from head to toe---of Sandpoint High students.  Very nicely done.

And, while we're talking Cedar Post, I must point out that yesterday I enjoyed reading the words of a former Cedar Poster in the most recent edition of the Idaho Catholic Register.  
That would be Cindy Wooden, former assistant editor of the Cedar Post, now longtime Vatican correspondent for Catholic News Service and author of a book with Pope Francis. 

Cindy touched on various aspects of her career as a Vatican correspondent, traveling the world with Popes and, in one case, revealing strategies needed to cover the events surrounding a rather unpredictable Pope Francis. 

Cindy's words:  Covering Pope Francis keeps us on our toes.  To be a serious Vatican correspondent, one has to watch Pope Francis like a hawk.  Even the most traditional, well-organized, straight-forward events will have unscripted moments that reveal the pope’s pastoral heart and people’s real desire to get closer to God.

The Vatican press office posts his morning schedule just as they posted the morning schedules of St. John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI.  But Pope Francis often conducts his own meetings in the afternoon and evening, invites interesting people to his residence or works the phones.  The parts of the pope’s day that are considered “private” can be just as newsworthy as the events on his official schedule.

In addition, he’s notorious for setting aside his prepared texts or changing them significantly.  Pope Benedict would often add to the text of his weekly general audiences when he sensed that people might not be catching what he was trying to communicate; his simple summaries of his main points often gave us the ledes to our stories.  

But with Pope Francis, there are certain Biblical stories and phrases in his prepared texts that we now recognize as triggers for his ad-libbing, so at least we are prepared. They usually have to do with speaking badly of others or gossiping; Pharisees and hypocrisy, especially in the church; God’s willingness to forgive; and tears. 

I enjoyed the article, especially the answer above.  It's refreshing to know that this impressive man of God will probably never thought of as a robot, and I say, GO POPE FRANCIS!  

And, speaking of that and of other important things Catholic:  GO ZAGS!  Everyone's hoping for a return to the ZAGS magic tonight as they take on San Francisco at 6 p.m.

Happy Saturday. 

Friends, Former Students and A Levy Coming Up

Thanks, Travis Mire, for taking the photo. 

There are hundreds of local graduates out there just like these folks whose lives, careers and contributions show the time-honored value of a great educational foundation provided by our Lake Pend Oreille School District.  

I look at these three and think also of a never-ending list of former students who are making a significant difference in this world, thanks to the basic skills, work ethic and pride they developed while attending our local public schools. 

Because I enjoyed a wonderful lunch with them yesterday, it seemed appropriate to use Kari, Jim and Jeralyn in this photo----putting faces to the local educational product and meant as a promotional tool for encouraging voters in our district to vote "Yes" in Tuesday's school district levy.

The levy is designed to maintain the status quo for general funding of staff, equipment, programs, maintenance, books, etc. 

The great news about two of these former students, pictured above, is that they're using their talents and their dedication for the betterment of our local students. 

One serves as a counselor (that would be Jeralyn on the right) and one works endless hours as a devoted volunteer who provides tremendous support to the counseling program at Sandpoint High School and to school district programs and activities in general (that would be Kari on the left).

Jim, in the middle, is my brother, an architect, now living in Oregon, who has designed countless buildings ranging from schools to high-end homes to office complexes----even a tasting room for a winery.  He lives in Oregon, but his work can be seen also in several communities around Western Montana.

His drafting class at Sandpoint High School with Ken Beaudoin during the 1980s provided him both inspiration and skills to move on to the University of Idaho College of Architecture. Nowadays, one of his classmates runs that same SHS drafting program.

Jeralyn has tremendous people skills as evidenced by her recent appearance on an Idaho Public TV panel discussing how Idaho students find their direction toward higher education, be it noted liberal arts colleges, the military, technology schools and vocational institutions. 

Many of the skills Jeralyn and Kari use today to benefit our local students were developed during their time spent as students in our district.  We are so fortunate that they, like so many other of our graduates,  return home to provide the same inspiration, motivation and general skills to other generations of local grads. 

In short, these people love Sandpoint, and they want the very best for all students who grow up in this community. 

Our public schools have historically and consistently strived for excellence in preparing local students to enter and to succeed in the big competitive world outside of Sandpoint. 

There's an abundance of proof in the pudding, and, as a former educator who keeps close track of her students and their successes, I can tell you that evidence of that success is nothing short of mind boggling. 

We can be proud that Sandpoint grads are able to reach for the stars and achieve big dreams. 

Their success evolves, in part, from the support they receive through hundreds of volunteers like Kari, professional guidance from school counselors like Jeralyn and through a cadre of excellent, talented teachers, classroom aides and visionary administrators.

I hope that on Tuesday, March 10 voters will continue to support the efforts of our school staffs and, more importantly, the potential for each of our students through a resounding "yes" vote. 

Our students from K-12 and their teachers deserve such an acknowledgement. 

Thank you for voting Tuesday and for passing the word. 

Thursday Throwbacks

My brother Jim is here for a few days, so, on this Throwback Thursday, I thought it would be appropriate to use one of his cartoons from a few years back.

Jim flew in from Oregon last night, so I drove into Spokane to pick him up. 

Twas a great night for spotting Sandpoint folks like Rose Clark, Mary Snedden and Mary McGovern and enjoying brief visits with each.  

Today Jim and I will join Jeralyn and Kari, so it also seemed appropriate to use a photo from a past early spring lunch gathering, which included another mutual friend, Colin. 

I'm liking Throwback Thursday more and more each week, as the search for sample shots often reminds me of interesting times locally and fun times with family and critters. 

The guy in the rain slicker above is Ty Pennington.  Remember him?  We used to see him every Sunday night on ABC's "Extreme Home Makeover."

A few years back, I spent a few days with my camera, snapping shots just off Baldy Road  when the Makeover crew came to Sandpoint to construct a house for a man and his two kids.

I don't think the situation worked out too well in the long run, but the project kept some lively activity going in the community during the week of construction.  

I guess we could match Throwback Thursday with a sub-feature:  Where Are They Now?

Anyone know any updates on the parties involved with Sandpoint's Extreme Makeover?

Ol' Annie Dog and young pup Kiwi back at the Great Northern Road farm.  Looks like our manure spreader served as a junk repository at the time this photo was taken.

I can see Rambo and Casey munching on hay in the background.  At this point, I think Kiwi is the only surviving member of our critter corral who made the move from the old farm to the Lovestead at Selle.  

Last night, on our way home from Spokane, Jim was talking about possibly going to San Antonio this year.  I told him he should definitely follow through on that plan and go see some of the haunts where our Mother inhabited during the years of her childhood spent in Texas.

One year, three generations of us met for dinner in San Antone, as some folks like to call it.  That would be me, Mother and two of her granddaughters, Annie and Laura.

Twas a great evening which brings a tear from my eye and a smile on my lips as I view this photo and reflect. 

Yup, here's part of today's lunch crowd, minus Colin.  He's got a birthday coming up in a few days.  Maybe we need to invite him, although I think the raucous quartet of Jeralyn, Kari, Jim and me will be enough craziness at Spud's today. 

Jim will replace Colin today at lunch.  He and Jeralyn have been friends forever, as both graduated with the Sandpoint High Class of 1982.

This shot was taken a few years back when our family went bike riding in the Kootenai National Wildlife Refuge near Bonners Ferry.  Maybe we'll have to schedule in a similar trip this weekend. 

We always dearly loved the times when our cute little Uncle Frenchy (my mother's brother) would come for visits.  I think this photo may have been taken over in Montana when he was visiting my brother Kevin.

That's Kevin's son Scott on the left and "Big Man" aka Willie at a time when he didn't look so big.  Uncle Frenchy was about as tall as Mother, maybe 5 foot 2. 

When we first moved to the Lovestead, the triplets helped Bill put a tree into the ground.  

I'm not sure if this one lived, but Justine, Grace and Jacob took the opportunity of adding something special to the earth very seriously, and I'm thinking they still do as seventh graders. 

My boys:  it was a rough month back in 2007 when I lost these two just weeks apart.  At the time, I said that I'd spent more time with them than with my human family.

Casey had just gotten his initiation into pulling my Amish cart, and Rambo, blind in both eyes, still led the pack when we'd go on rides.

They were pals, and some longtime horsemen even suggested that when Rambo died from an anneurism, Casey, lost without his pal, could have died of a broken heart.

They have markers down in the far pasture, and they'll never be forgotten in my lifetime.  Great horses. 

Finally, my Lily:  this was shortly after she arrived at the Lovestead via transport from Oklahoma. I like to call her my mail-order horse because I bought her based on a small polaroid photo sent to me by her owner.

She's 10 now, and a lot of that bay color has turned white.   She's still a pretty attractive big gal and maybe not quite as ornery as she was when she first came.

I noticed also that her owner's "bay" hair has turned a little grayer.

And so, that seems like enough throwbacks for this Thursday.  I sure have enjoyed myself putting this group together and reflecting on each.

Hope you enjoy too.  Happy Thursday.