"All we have to do, is decide what to do with the time given us." Tolkein

There are moments that'll
last forever
etched in our memories
written on our souls...



I've been away for a while.

Sometimes life just gets in the way of really 
doing the things your heart wants to.

The summer came, and the summer is gone.

Worked, worked...and worked some more.
My guy, has been gone so much 
I jokingly told him we needed to buy a fifth wheel so I could travel with him, just so I won't  forget what he looks like.

That being said, we are here at the threshold of 
my favorite season of the year...fall.

October is the years last loveliest smile.
It heralds all the things I love....spice candles,
the flash of bright orange and reds and burnished gold in the leaves, the pumpkins,
the festive lights dangled from the porch as a welcome to all who pass by, or actually stop in for a hello.
Hearty soups, baked breads and pies, cookies galore.
Walks through the woods...and entrapment
for kids who love a good ghost story, at the knees of Nana. 

It welcomes in all of the wonderful holidays~

***

We've had some family affected in this marathon called life.

Death of a beloved grandmother.

Sister fighting a valiant battle of cancer.

Career moves, and more moves.

An Ultra marathon
50 miles of mountain trails, and the triumph in that completion.
(No, it was not me, but a beloved daughter-in-law.)

Witnessing my man, fall with a ladder, 20 feet up
crashing
onto a woodpile!
(He walked away with bruises only and a minor cut, but wounded pride because his woman saw it happen!) 


A wonderful Family Reunion, where all hearts were reunited!

Grandbabies getting a year older...
and deciding
that I can choose to look good in "gray"
or still keep touching up with a little blonde  highlighting.
For right now, I choose a little gold, mixed in with the silver.

I turned 60, this year.

I've learned to take the good with the bad, but more importantly learned to see everything that happens along the way
as something  I can use to better myself.

Be good!
Do good...share your goodness~

To recognize and express gratitude, is to touch Heaven...

 ...to plant a garden, is to believe in tomorrow...

but to recognize the one you had

no plan in, as a simple

gift from God,

is the essence  in life.

GRATITUDE

We have spent a hysterical couple of days with loved ones.
Busy, busy...lacrosse games, soccer games, parties, brunches and shopping!

Traveled to Utah,  for my Dad's 80th birthday party!  It was a grand gathering of friends and posterity.
And the stories shared...one minute you're laughing, and the next crying.  All in all, the consensus  was we are pretty dang lucky to have him in our lives!

My baby sister shared the conspirator scheme at church when she was younger.  She would throw a fit, and rather than take her out to the foyer, Dad would sneak off to 7-11 and purchase a Dr. Pepper, for himself and a cherry slurpee for the little tyrant.

My brother who was the marathon runner, related a conversation that had taken place as he was training.  Pops, had told him there was NO WAY he was going to be able to finish the race if he could not train with more than 10 miles per day under his belt.
Randy, took it wrong as most teenagers would.
He thought that Dad, was trying to undermine him,
when in reality, he was championing him to run harder...to stretchhhhhhhh!
As it turned out, it was a pivoting accomplishment in his life, with Dad being there for him the whole way.

It was an afternoon that filled all of us, and hopefully let our father know just how much of an influence for good, he has nurtured.

 

...we can never escape, God's lovely essence...


I know that Easter has come and gone, I just wish we could hang onto that lovely sense of rebirth for a wee bit longer.

I am sitting at the computer this morning, the skies are gunmetal grey and there is a sprinkling of new snow adorning the mounds and mounds of "ugly" snow melt we have hiding out
in the underbrush of the this magnificent 
lodge pole forest.  


We have a five year old grandson visiting for a few days.
He will not start kindergarten until the next school year. 

He has been fascinated with the wood chopping, 
and feeding the stove for heat.  
I did not have to convince him that keeping a sweatshirt on all day helps us stay more warm.  
Kids are smart, if we let them be.  

We have baked bread, and homemade biscuits and Texas Fudge cake...and filled our bellies until we couldn't stuff 'em any more, but the best thing of all has been observing him in his play mode.

Watching him create his own "hut" and strategically 
place every kind of need, at the most
opportune place for quick 
access...mainly his play
guns, but a few golf clubs too!!

The best time though, was when Pap, joined us in a game of Dominoes, and acquiesced that for us to use every single piece,  the old rules did not apply. 
 
 It is never to late, to teach an old dog 
new tricks! 

We have played marbles, until my shooter thumb is raw...sang songs till our voice became hoarse, and read stories
falling asleep with the book in
our laps. 

I have slept like the dead.

A sure cure for an insomniac...spend quality time with a 
young'un! 

I have a tremendous love for this area.  My husband and I

came NORTH, to offer a new start for a few of our

family members needing that.

It has been six years of growth, I had not really expected.

We lost a son-in-law and a son two years after 

we moved here.

  

The rest of our

family has moved on, or is living south of us.

Our grandchildren are growing fast

and I am torn in the attachment we have formed here

and in moving closer to where

THE ACTION is!

I have always wanted to offer a refuge for our children, a place they could come to escape, from what they see day in and day 

out, and yet life has a way of throwing things 

into the mix, you really do not anticipate. 

Maybe my guy and I just need a year

by ourselves, to figure 

it out.

Meanwhile, there is bread to bake...

cabins to clean, great books to read, a new bike to break

in, and creating a magic place of refuge for those who can come to visit, along the way.

...every path has a few puddles...

Home Grown: II

 ...experience is what you get, when you didn't get what you wanted,

and experience is often

 the most valuable thing you have to offer...

What brings you here my friend?

I hope it is the promise that truth and experience, still

stand for something, and that we can grow in sharing 

THE GOODNESS.

That being said, goodness takes on a refining fire...whether you're cooking up something scrumptious to eat, planting a garden, or trying to plan a memorable funeral for a loved one.

I recently shared with you about leaving everything that was comfortable, known, tried and true...to follow my husband

on an adventure in growth, to Idaho.

YEHAW...

We got here in '08...ran the gamete...

made a lot of mistakes in working a 100 year old resort.

We learned more about the human spirit in a "Reader's Digest Condensed Version"...than most people would

in several lifetimes.

My daughter recently ran into a man, we had been working with us

the first year we took to managing.  His comment to her was that.

"Your folks are good people."

 She wanted to know what we had done to illicit this kind of statement from an almost virtual stranger. 

I asked her WHO, he was...and then I knew.

It must have been the bacon.

Unless you hate PORK...you know what I mean.

We had a group of men, working the grounds and preparing after the harsh winters at 6,700'.  
It was May, and we were scrambling to get things repaired, and working.  The mornings were more than crisp...at 27 degrees, they were down right cold.

Every morning, I would start the day by fixing my

guy a hot breakfast....and more often than not, that included

crispy fried pieces of bacon.which wafted over the entire resort.

It was the BEST calling card for action.

Often, I would look out our little cabin window, and the whole front yard, back yard, and meadow across the way would be filled

with workers, sprucing up the place...trimming grass, hammering up fallen fences, or jacking up cabins, in preparation for fixing a  myriad of  plumbing matters.

I would open the door and call out..."You guys want to take a 5 minute break?  I've got some extra bacon cooked up?"

I never had to ask twice, 

and I never had any leftover bacon.

It was a cheap fare for a commitment to excellence!

For the most part...they were great young 

men who followed instructions

and got the "job" done.

I learned a long time ago, that you can get a man to do just about anything for you... if you please his stomach.

AM I LYING?

We probably learned more about character in those first couple of years than any other time in our life.  I know it was because

WE were the managers.

We encountered laziness, and excellence in performance!

We forgave a lot, and taught those under our stewardship

that ANYTHING could be accomplished, if we

MADE A PLAN

 WORKED THE PLAN

 and

 EXPECTED TO WIN!

We hauled off tons, and I do mean tons of garbage.

We came to know that the owner bought lots of 

STUFF, hoping to find a use for it somewhere down the line.

It was HOARDING in all of it's glory!

I would  fall in love with reading books again.   If a spare minute was to be found, I would crawl away with a blanket and hide with a flashlight.  Truth be known, more times than not we were too exhausted to do anything other than eat, and fall in bed at night...but on occasion I would flip a page or two of a good read.

We were salary, 

and that meant...there was no such thing as a time clock,

or private time.
  
In other words, we were owned!

 There came a time, when I had to demand that my guy

take an hour to go hold a meeting on the river.

 

It kept him sane...and it proved to me, that a balance is needed

in order to keep things moving in the right direction.

However, those meetings on the river, were far and few.
 They

became the respite for a weary heart.

***

When I started writing this morning, I really did not have a specific

direction.  I am sorry about that.

I wanted to share a little about my father.

It is his birthday today.  He is 80 years young...and I owe to him

my keen love and respect for the out of doors.

No he did not hunt,

he did not fish,

we did not have a cabin off in the hills,

but we would share the most remarkable outings

gathering firewood,

or rocks for the patio...or hikes in the mountains...and

stories under star lit skies.

I owe him a lot.

When I started dating seriously...I wanted to find a man

who did like to hunt, who wanted to wet a hook,

who eventually would lead me to a place  where we could

live in the woods.

And I have. 

My father, has always been the constant in my life.

I have always known, that I could call on him for anything,

and have learned that in my darkest hours, his love would help me see it through.

Even though he will never admit it...he instilled in me,

a greater lover and understanding of my Father in Heaven.  I have been raised with the knowledge that I have the best of everything

at my fingertips...

For this I am eternally grateful.

 I married a man...who has carried on in that tradition.

His love of nature and respect for it,

his love for his children, and wife...and the eternal scheme of 

things, are the most important issues of daily breath.

I am blessed in knowing that I should be more concerned about my character...that's what I really am.

Where as a reputation, is just what others think about me.

HOME GROWN.

The best is yet to come.

Home Grown: Part I

Oh what do you do in the summer time,

When all the world is green...

Do you fish in a stream,

Or lazily dream...

And watch as the clouds roll by?

Is that what you do?

So do I! 

In May of 2008

I quit my secure job with benefits...a field of expertise

that I had been around for almost 20 years,

and followed my husband to Idaho.

We became the General Managers of a 100 year

old resort, and on June 10, of that same year

we woke up to 11" of new snow .

We were in for the adventure of a lifetime...if truth be

known, it would be more excitement, heartache,

sorrow, frustration, disillusionment and JOY, to fill several lifetimes.

OH: the ride of it all...

Would I choose to experience this

again, if I could?  Absolutely!  There is only one thing that triumphs

heartache, and that is overcoming it...and everything in

between shall be added unto you. 


I am a mother of five, 
Nana to 10,
wife to one, for 40 + years. 



I thought that life had schooled me in just about everything it could up to that point, boy was I mistaken.


As a team we learned fast, that you are never to old to learn new tricks, 
that adult children, who should "know better"
sometimes don't.   
Saying "I forgive you"...and meaning it are on different planets.


As an individual I learned that every single day, we are blessed with a sunrise we did not ask for, and that, in itself is magic.


***

Stay away from what might have been
and LOOK for what can be.


We wrestled with cantankerous customers, and rowdy guests and wonderful return visits!  We grappled with pipes, and cabins
that had seen a 100 years of manipulation, rebuilding, and lots and lots of
 "a promise and a lick!"

We realized that the value of a dollar has no meaning
when there is not a dollar to spend and
that pure determination, elbow grease, some giggles with guarded expletives
always generate miracles, even in the smallest of ways.


***

I was hired as the Hospitality specialist.
I loved it!  I embraced it...and came to know intimately a
true generosity of the human spirit.


 The first time a "guest" told me he was going to come across the counter and kick my ass, I stopped him dead in his tracks by saying, " Your Mother, would be so ashamed of you right now."
He simply turned around and left, later to return
and pay his bill in full, with a very sincere
apology.



We rented out boats, canoes, tubes and rafts to float the 
Henry's Fork River.
It was so rewarding to help families and individuals create, or relive memories.


That being said, it sometimes became a THREE RING CIRCUS
in fulfilling the demands.  For the most part, the public
played by the rules, and waited for returning rafts and then would come in and purchase a trip.


My first year orchestrating this was character building.
At one point over the Fourth of July weekend,
I had two men, beginning to go
fist to cuffs, as to who was supposed to be called up next.


The GM, heard the ruckus, walked in, and escorted them outside.  That was after, I had told these ruffians, that the Sheriff was my best friend, and  had already been buzzed, to come and give them a ride off the mountain.


Believe it or not, everyone was able to return to a state of sanity.
ALL INVOLVED, eventually apologized to one another
and ended up riding the river.  (These were grown men, fighting in front of their wives and children)!


We were a force to reckoned with in helping families pull off
reunions.  I made so many new friends.


My intrigue was with the men and women who walked the Continental Divide...a trek from New Mexico to Canada, which they would start in the early spring and hope to finish before the snow started in the fall.  Our resort was listed on the mapping they used.  We had showers and a laundromat that was available to everyone.  
We met the most amazing individuals.


Nuclear scientists, who were trying to decide if they wanted to continue on in their field or go home and write stories for children.


Men from Israel who were so war weary...that they were not sure if they should return to the home of their Fathers.  Feeling like their chances of survival would be greater if they  played Russian  Roulette.


Photographers, who were following specific hikers, and creating a documentary.


And
people who enjoyed challenging themselves, to see if they could complete over a thousand miles of trekking, sleeping in every conceivable element, eating whatever you were willing to carry with you... overcoming fears of the UNKNOWN.


Life, is that in a nutshell~because no matter how much you think you may have it planned and figured out, eventually you will
get a curve ball thrown at you.


Better to practice knowing how to take it over the fence, or learn to live with the strike.


*** 


The year of a thousand tears
 started for us in 2010.


Within a few months time, we lost our beloved hound of 14 years,
my sweet Mother, our son-in-law to a head on collision,
a courageous brother-in-law to cancer,
and
our youngest son, to the ravages of prescription addiction. 


***

We were so busy burying loved ones, we had no time to grieve.

Dang, that sounds so callous, but it was the truth.
And yet, simple acts of kindness, from stranger or friend,
became the glue to our hearts.


One guest heard about the loss of my Mom, and dropped by just as I was closing up one evening.  She approached me at the counter with tears in her eyes and removed  the most beautiful
and exotic locket from around her neck, no words were needed as she gently gave it to me.  She was from Romania, and spoke very 
broken English.  Our hearts and tears spoke the 
same language.


Flowers, food, and little notes were always showing up
at the most crazy places.  

People would come by and just hang out at the front desk in our office, with ice cream dripping down their arms holding the
cones of gooey goodness,  until we could take a break and eat it.

Goodness is universal.
Goodness matters. 


There is so much to this part of my story.
I hope you will return,
to know...
that, sometimes there is nothing grand about
overcoming heartache... sometimes, it's just in
allowing a total stranger
or absolute friend
help you.

There will come a time when you think everything

is finished!  

That will be the beginning... 

Just a BLINK: III

...a sister is a little bit of childhood that can never

be lost...

This past month has been one of reflection and celebration!

All I can say is...I fully understand how being a bride in June, has made March so prolific!   

No, I was not married in June....but as a child we had so many family members, Aunts, Uncles,...Mother, brothers, sisters

cousins, each born in March.

 It was impossible

to have or attend all of the birthdays individually...

so we celebrated one HUGE party, and invited everyone to attend.

Each year between Grandma's house and ours we took turns hosting.  It was a St Patty's Day celebration, without the green beer!

 

...in the end...love is the brightest light of all...

 *****

I am drawn to a memory over 30 years ago.

We were a family of boys.

 I knew there was a little girl in heaven just biding her time

to make an entrance here on earth.

And that is what she did!

A STARR IS BORN!

Congratulations to LeGrand & Jamie Ellison

Read the marque just as you drove into town.

Green River, Wyoming, Taco Bell

was announcing to the world our JOY!

But we could not have our youngest child be our only girl...

18 months later, Britt made her appearance.

~WE WERE COMPLETE~

There is magic in the air, when little girls are around.

Something in pink, will soften out even the harshest mountain man...

blonde curls, and green eyes...both of them.

I was in heaven.

Starr, loved to have someone read to her, and when no one was

available, she entertained herself...sometimes for hours,

on her little chair, with a stack of books.

When Britt, was about 6 months old, I passed by their

bedroom door, and to my delight Starr had maneuvered

her little stool, to the crib railings, and was hurling

all of the books she could manage

into her sisters bed.  She was bound and determined 

to SHARE THIS GOODNESS!!!

I stood and watched, and the thought came to me,

that they would grow to be the best of friends.

I can hardly wrap my head around the fact that it has been

30 years, that our baby girl, Britt was born.

And a whole lot of living...

As they growing up, we were so fortunate to live in an area

where there were great friends...the Vellingas, the Bacca's...the 

Spencers...and many, many more.

These little girls made it happen,

playing house, baking mud pies, helping in the garden..."High Spot",

dress-up's  and secretaries!!!

I about died the year that Britt, asked for a "real"typewriter, at Christmas.  I think she may have been seven.

Starr, has always been the great organizer.

We had a fun little tradition, when the holidays rolled around,

preparing their room, changing out the checkerd quilts

for the silk and lace spreads.  Dressing all of the dolls in their finest outfits.  Scrubbing toys, and donating to a favorite

charity.

In the middle of it, Starr was taking charge.

If you ask them to tell you about the time they were delivering papers and I accidently drug them off the curb,

and into the gutter, with the door of the car...you may die, laughing...but it was horrible at the time it happened.

The incident when their friends dog, got to excited as the kids were playing in the snow, and attacked Britt..taking off her

nose and a big chunk of her lip, leaving puncture wounds all over her sweet little face.  That is when I witnessed first hand the resilience of youth...the trust, and belief in miracles.

With the skilled hands of a plastic surgeon, and resting over the weekend, she was back in school, defying anyone to tease her.

Second grade hero...but it was her sister Starr, who was

 always silently watching out for her.

Starr, who wants nothing more than to match her brothers accomplishments in the out of doors, hunting BIG game.  She was inducted to that feat of accomplishment with her Daddy, one season, given the glorified" task of carrying home

"the cookies" of the elk which had been shot and cleaned.

Oh MY GOODNESS!!!

*****

The stories of life.

Impossible to cram 30+ years of living into a couple of paragraphs.

I love both of these women.

They have been the delight of my life...and sorrow, and JOY...and the cause of a lot of sleepless nights.

They are walking, talking courage...giggles, beauty...screeching (when angry or frustrated), silent tears falling, prayers never ending...they are the resolute support for each other 

that a parent can always hope for, pray for, and be so utterly grateful for.

They have the music of life just bursting from the seams. 

Compassion, is not a relationship between the Healer and the Wounded...It is a relationship

between equals.

They have been there for each other in everything life has thrown at them.

They are sisters.

  

I wish you enough:

...a house that does not have

one, worn out

comfy chair in it...is soulless...

March

The other morning, I was making my way down the 
stairs, trying to be extra quiet...not knowing
if anyone had fallen asleep on the couch
from the previous night.   Comfortable in the warmth of the fire
and draped in the fur we have placed over the back.

   In my quietness, I stubbed my toe, on the rocker.
I got to thinking about
chairs...the memory of them.  The stories
they hold.

My mind wandered back to when I was four
years old.  I had been trying to make a 
place for myself, in the neighborhood...and had not been
very successful at it.  An older child, who was
handicapped, had grabbed my hair, and pulled for all
she was worth, which sent me home.
Trying to smother my sobs, and sneak into the back bedroom
where I could hide my embarrassment...
 my Mother, heard me, and called for me to come to her.

I hesitantly peered around the corner, trying to
wipe the smudges off my cheek.
She waited patiently in a rocker, with 
her arms out stretched.

I fled into that all comforting embrace and the crying started
up harder.  I was almost to big for Mom, to hold me.
But hold me she did...and rocked, saying nothing,
just letting my little heartache subside...
stroking my hair, and softly sshhing my tears.
When hic-ups ensued, a little song broke forth, and eventually I joined in.  All was right with the world.

We talked, she comforted...she laughed, and shared stories
of "rocky" friendships she had, had as growing up.
I wanted to believe, that tomorrow
things would be better.

And...it was.

An old chair.

Whenever I go to visit the grand-youngun's I am delighted
when there are a few, who still enjoy climbing 
up on my lap in an old chair.

Love the connection of the rocking back and forth,
it is timeless.  Love to be able to let them 
hear and feel the beating of my heart...love it when they
will humor me, in a soft lullaby.


As one who loves to read, there is nothing more inviting,
than an old chair, with a quilt...and an excuse
to take a short vacation, to where ever 
the story unfolds.


As a lover, I have this fantasy of finding
an old red leather recliner, BIG enough
to hold two...side by side.
I tease my guy about it all the time, he just looks
at me like I have lost my mind, and says..."But who will
get the remote?"

***

Sometimes, we put up walls...not to keep people out,
but to see who cares enough to break 
them down.


Grateful for the timelessness of an old chair,
for the soul it brings into 
our home.

SACRED in the ORDINARY

 ...listen and you will hear,

the breeze brushing softly through the grasses...

birds singing, your own heart beating...

your soul is waking up

and God whispers...

This is for you~

Who of you out there has memories all bottled up inside

 just waiting to be shared.

This picture evokes so many sentiments in life.

The energy, and relentless faith of children.

The belief, that WE could become anything, go anywhere,

do anything... we wanted to.  All we had to do was

DREAM! 

 

Have you ever heard the saying:  "If the dream is 

BIG enough, the facts don't count?" 

I had never heard it until I was an adult.  It was at an

AMWAY meeting.  I was sitting in the 

audience, waiting to

become MOTIVATED!  It must have stuck

in my subconscious, because I have

never forgotten it...and when I

am up against a deadline, seemingly overwhelmed,

out of control, over scheduled...I think of

this, and how much HOPE, it

instilled in me.

***

 

It made me think of the Christmas present

LG, made for me one year.

It was the year we had put some money down

on a hunting camp, in the Teton Wilderness.

What a dream that was.

We had a young family of boys, one daughter...and

another one on the way.

We were "poor" in the pocket book,

but rich beyond our wildest dreams in every other

way.

Our home was nestled at the base of the Teton mountain range,

just a ways off the Snake River.

The holidays were upon us.

The boys went out one afternoon, before their Dad, got home...

looking for the perfect tree.   What they came home with

would have to be propped up in a huge basket I

had in the dining room.

We popped corn, and strung it, along with cranberries off

the branches,  hung candy canes,

and other simple ornaments, on our

"Charlie Brown" tree.  

It was magic.

We scraped enough money together to purchase

a few items from Santa,

and told each other that we would get gifts

next year for the both of us.

And it was good.

Christmas Eve, was coming...

One night just at dusk, I see LG from our window in the 

kitchen bouncing down the snow covered hill

on the back of our snow machine.

He had something on his lap that defied description.

It was a huge, beautiful,

handmade chopping block...adorned with the

most precious grin from my guy.

Now the late nights in his absence were making sense.

He had gone to a friends wood shop

and pieced this beautiful

wood together, making something our kids

will fight over, when we die.

It is the first thing we move, when loading up the truck.

It has become the piece of furniture, that is used for 

everything but a chopping block...a corner table,

 a place of honor at the door, to catch all those odd things

you come home with.

It is the tree stand, since we have gone smaller

in our adornment over the years.

It is a constant reminder...that anything is possible,

if love is in the equation.

LeGrand, had not worked in a wood shop since Jr. High.

But he wanted to do something special.

His DREAM was bigger than our circumstances.

He would come home with

something for his woman, in spite of no money.

We celebrate

the sacred...in the ordinary!