Father's Day Tea

I forgot to mention the Tea Party we had on Father's Day. How could I forget a Tea Party?

It was all Ellea's doing and she kept it super secret from her dad. We didn't drink tea. We had grape soda and apple juice. We also had lots of different cookies, and wore hats, of course. All proper tea parties require a hat.

Pinkies out!!!

A Girl and Her Boots

Nicole wears her cowboy boots everywhere. She's been know to wear them with her capris. Of course, it doesn't help that she seems to have outgrown her tennis shoes. She was wearing women's size 7. I hope she hasn't jumped up to a size 9.
We were sitting on a unit of lumber letting our horses graze after a ride one day when I snapped this picture. I'm quite fond of it. The horse, the grass, the spurs. The girl wearing them. . . .

Why did my babies have to go and grow up? It's so bittersweet. They're all at fun ages, and yet before I know it, they'll be leaving me. Sniff, sniff. . . .

Father's Day and Food

So, for Father's day, we fed Glenn. I mean really fed him. Well.

Morgan's idea was to make him breakfast in bed, but since we didn't eat "breakfast" until about 11, Glenn was of course out of bed. Morgan wanted to make pancakes. He asked if I could make "shapes." I'm thinking Mickey Mouse. He's thinking stars. Stars? Nope. Mouse ears or nothin'!! He was happy with the mouse ears!

The girls made him chocolate chip cookies. Those are always a hit. For dinner, we went to a restaurant in Cottonwood and pigged out some more. So there you have it. Around here, to show our love, we fill your belly!

Read at Your Own Risk

Just a fair warning, this post has a fair amount of ick-factor to it. If you don't care to be grossed out, or you are sitting at your computer eating your breakfast, you might want to skip today's yucky but informative information.
Okay, this isn't so bad. Nicole and I helped Glenn put the cows in the corral so that a couple of sick ones could be taken to the vet. She's on my horse. Her horse is sometimes scared of his own shadow, so I rode him. He did fine, but my horse did better.

Here it comes. Don't be scared.

This is what is called a prolapse, boys and girls. That lovely red object coming out of the back end of the calf is a small portion of his intestine. This happens more often in pregnant cows. He won himself a trip to the vet. She put in lots of dissolvable stitches and he's good as new. Hopefully.

Nicole was mortified that I was taking pictures of this for my blog. She was afraid he might be embarrassed. So if you know this calf or any of his friends, don't say anything. We wouldn't want him to feel bad about himself.

Walk This Way

My girls are so funny. They're always thinking up silly things to pass the time and make me laugh. We decided to go for a walk with Grandma. To just walk would be so. . . so, mundane.

So they walked like penguins. We had to have a talk about just how penguins walk. I'm glad we got that talk out of the way. I was so not looking forward to it.

And then they took up skipping. The above picture is a little blurry, but it's the only one of Grandma skipping with the girls. Skipping hurts my head. All that jarring and bouncing. That didn't stop Grandma from joining in the fun. I think it's been awhile since Grandma skipped. She's still got it.

Did you know when they do the Kindergarten screening around here, they ask the kids to skip? How silly is this? I was shocked when I found that out after Nicole's screening. How could she possibly know this skill? I hadn't bothered to teach her the finer points of skipping. Her being my first born and all, I took it personally that she didn't ace everything in the screening. By the time #2 and 3 went through it, I couldn't care less! So the moral of this story is, teach your small children to skip. If it matters to you. Or don't.

Me and My Shadow--Reposted

My apologies for the pictures not coming through on this post about my dog, Zip. I know you've been losing sleep since you didn't get to see the photos, so here is the original post with the pictures (hopefully).

My Schnauzer, Zip, thinks very highly of me. I like that about him. I wish Glenn would get half as excited to see me as Zip does. He wouldn't have to wag his tail, jump around and bark excitedly. Maybe a little of that would be okay. No, it would just be weird.

I'm quite fond of Zip, but I think he tends to give Schnauzers everywhere a bad name. He's terrific around my little family, but dislikes most other people. Okay, he dislikes all other people. He barks. He growls. He's even been known to nip at the legs of people walking innocently past him. My mail lady won't get out of her car to put packages on the front porch because he has bit her in the past. Thankfully, she has a Schnauzer of her own and hasn't filed charges. I think he acts that way because he's a scaredy-cat and it's all a bluff to look tough. He's not so bad. He adores me, so how bad can he be?

He loves riding on the four-wheeler.
Just this week, he's discovered that he can sit in my lap while I drive the tractor. I don't typically drive the tractor a whole lot, but lately, I've been driving it around the field while Glenn (and sometimes the kids) pitch in rocks. Those pesky rocks.

Zip's never been much of a lap-sitter. He'd usually rather sit near me than in my lap. But in the tractor, there's no other option really, so in my lap he sits. He prefers that I pet him if he's going to sit in my lap. No reason to have a good petting-hand going to waste.

So, there you have it, the ins and outs of my lovely dog. He's a dork, but he's mine. I think I'll keep him. For now.

Three Ring Circus

The kids and I talked Glenn into taking us to the circus in Lewiston last week. We hadn't been since the girls were toddlers and they didn't remember any of it. At the last minute, it occurred to me that we should see if Glenn's niece and nephew and their kids would like to join us. Apparently they're all about spontaneity, because they happily rearranged their schedules to come along. I can't tell you how much that thrilled me. My kids can probably tell you how much that thrilled me because I was saying how excited I was that they were joining us and was informed that I already said that! (You can read Jen's post about our circus fun on her blog.)

It was their kids' (and mom Jen's) first trip to the circus also. When the weather looked drizzly and cool, we considered cancelling, but we Idahoans are tough so we stuck with it. You wouldn't know from the above picture that it was the middle of JUNE. June, people! It should not be necessary to wear jackets and wrap ourselves in blankets in Lewiston in June. Global warming? Not here.

Morgan and Noah were very impressed with the motorcycles in the cage. We were all impressed that they could fit 4 motorcycles at once. What do their mothers think of this activity? I hope they don't know.

And what does this woman's mother think of her being carried in an elephant's mouth? Really. Do you know where that thing has been? How often can he possibly brush his teeth?

And, what of this little girls' mother? What is she thinking feeding her all this fluffy, sugary, melt-on-the-tongue wonderfulness??! Well, I imagine she's thinking, if she can keep Andie happy, then all of us can enjoy the circus. And who am I to judge? I bribed her with fist fulls of buttery popcorn in an attempt to make her want to sit with me!

Blondes Have More Fun

Once upon a time, I was a natural blonde. Now my hair tends to look dull brown. I put up with it for awhile, but finally got tired of looking at it.


So I made an appointment with my favorite hairdresser and away we went!

Finally, I'm blonde again! Now people will better understand my "blonde moments!" And I have plenty of them!

Fuzzy Wuzzy Was a Bear

Really.
The above picture is of a black bear. You can't see it? Are you sure? C'mon. . . . That black object in the center of the photo, right next to the tree? You can tell that's a black bear, right? Of course you can.

Glenn and I were feeding our neighbor's horses when this fat, black, fuzzy creature lumbered across the road ahead of us and into the trees. I've never seen bears around here before, so I got VERY excited. I wanted badly to follow him, but we were in our minivan and the road we would've driven was an old logging road. Uphill. In the mud. So we jumped out and tried to follow on foot, but he was moving rapidly and the above picture is the best we came up with. I had rather high hopes of snapping a fabulous shot for my blog.

Instead, I was able to get a nice shot of his footprint in the mud.


Really.
You can tell this is a bear paw print, right? Of course you can.

Pic-a-nic Part 2

Following our picnic feast, the kids ran around and played and I read the book I brought along. At one point, I thought the kids were playing hide and seek, but they were also talking on their walkie-talkies which seems like an odd combo. Turns out, they were "spying" on me. Very enthralling. It went something like this:
Nicole: What's she doing?
Morgan: She's reading her book.
A short time later. . . .
Ellea: What's she doing now?
Morgan: Reading her book.

I felt so violated.


At one point, we found this great tree the kids wanted to climb and I, of course, saw it as another photo op (my poor kids!). You'd be surprised just how much time we spent getting them all into this position. That branch next to Ellea was more difficult to maneuver around than one would imagine!

And then, the kids discovered that if they ran with the sheet we brought along to sit on, that it filled with air. They were SO delighted with themselves over this activity! You can't see it real well here, but both girls' faces are just lit up with huge grins!! Why can't I be so easily delighted with the simple pleasures in life? I'll have to work on that.

Pic-a-nic Basket

The kids and I put together a picnic the other day. First we had to debate what was needed for a proper picnic. It was decided that lemonade and brownies or cookies were a must. I remembered that I had a package of pre-fab cookies in the freezer. You know, the kind that you break apart and bake. I had been saving them for a "special occasion" of some sort. I figured I'd know when the time was right to use them. Well, this was the time!
These happened to be the chocolate chip lovers variety. They were met with approval by all. Ellea wondered if they'd bake up square since that's how their shape out of the freezer. But, by the magic of the cookie-world, they came out looking like your typical cookie--irresistible!
After we had our lunch all prepared, we drove the four wheeler down the road to a meadow near the old sawmill and laid out our spread. It was a delightfully warm day (that's unusual--where's the rain?!). We enjoyed the whole event. Ellea wasn't thrilled with our uninvited, but inevitable, ant guests. I told her no picnic is complete without ants, but she wasn't buying it. For some reason, they seemed drawn to her. Probably because she's so sweet. She gets that from me.

Father's Day

I miss this man. He was so smart. He had a mind like a steel trap--could remember minute details of events in his life and anything he read, and he read a lot. He had a killer sense of humor. My father was only 53 when he died. I was 21. He died unexpectedly in his sleep. He had had many health problems throughout his life, but nothing at the time indicated to me I might never see him again.

I was engaged before he died. He thought the world of Glenn. I remember the big grin that came across his face when we announced we were getting married. He could not have been happier, or expressed his joy any more thoroughly. It was a delight and a memory I will always cherish.

Another special memory is the day that he bought my wedding dress. I invited him to join my mom in meeting me in Spokane (I was going to school in Moscow) for some dress shopping. I didn't really think he'd join us, but I'm sure glad he did. That was the last time I ever saw him.

I'm told that my father didn't think he wanted to have children. He knew my mom wanted them, so he went along with it. He wasn't the most cuddly father when I was a small child, but I always knew he loved me fiercely. I wish I could've had an opportunity to know him better as an adult. I wish I could see how fiercely he must love his grandchildren. Someday.

I love you, dad. Happy Father's Day.

Another Date?

Another date. Can you believe it? We're just a couple of crazy kids now that our children have proven they can stay home alone without gouging one another's eyes out! We're out on the town every night now. Okay, maybe not every night. Once a month. Once a month is good. Over the past 12 years, we've probably gone out on dates 4 or 5 times a year.

We decided we would drive to nearby Grangeville and pay our $6.75 to attend the one-screen movie theater. The movie was Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides. Is this the 5th installment of the Pirates franchise? Who would've thought they could drag 5 movies out of a Disney ride? I'm sure glad they have. I have a secret crush on Cap'n Jack Sparrow. He's too funny. None of the sequels have managed to outshine the first movie, but they've all been delightfully fun, funny and full of excitement. I enjoyed this version of Captain Sparrow. Then, again, I don't get to go on many dates, so maybe I would've enjoyed almost any movie.

Rocks of the Earth

Yesterday we spoke of rocks of the confectionery sort. Today we will talk of rocks of the geological sort.

First, a little farming lesson. Glenn has about 100 acres of hay ground. Every 10-15 years, the hay has to be plowed under and the sod broken up. He plants oats every year for a few years to replenish the soil. Then he replants the ground into grass/alfalfa hay and waits 10 years for the process to start over again. He rotates through all of his hay ground doing this to 20-30 acres at a time. When the field is plowed, up come those pesky rocks. It's difficult for grass to grow on a rock, so you pick the rocks.This is one of the rocky patches. Thankfully, the whole field doesn't look like this, but there are quite a few rock patches. You would think we were growing rocks, rather than hay. It's too bad there's not a market for rocks. We would be rich.

This is the after picture. It's much better, but there are still rocks. It's difficult for me as a perfectionist to not insist on picking up every rock. I've gotten better at leaving the littler ones behind. Glenn has gotten better at leaving me alone about picking up smaller rocks than he would pick up. Sometimes it looks like you're in an ocean of rocks. It's overwhelming.

Our rock picking crew. They were very good sports about helping. I lectured them on how little they are asked to help on the farm. (Not Glenn, the little people!) We filled the bucket of the tractor three times in an hour. And then we went and did it again the next night. Glenn has high hopes we'll do it every night. We'll see if the "good sports" can hold out that long! Anyone who's dying to experience rock picking for themselves is welcome to join us. Really. I kid you not. I'm generous like that, what can I say?

Rocks of the Moon

I suggested that Morgan and Grandma make cookies the other day. Then I realized I was almost out of butter and I had zero brown sugar in the house. Hmmm. Morgan came up with the idea of making Moonrocks. Moonrocks are a no-bake cookie that came from a cookbook my Kindergarten teacher put together. Not Morgan's kindergarten teacher, mine.
Moonrocks have all of three ingredients and I happened to have all of them!
The original recipe called for rolling the cookies in graham cracker crumbs, but we add chocolate chips instead. Everything is better with chocolate, don't you think?!

Now, I'll share the recipe. Just in case you're dying to run to your kitchen and whip up a batch of these bad boys.

Moonrocks
1 c non-fat dry milk
3/4 c peanut butter
1/4 c honey
chocolate chips (opt.)

Mix first three ingredients well. Roll dough into balls and refrigerate before serving.

Have Dragger, Will Travel

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, Marv and Candi came to visit. They recently acquired a new (to them) camper and hadn't used it yet, so instead of sleeping in our comfy spare bedroom, they brought their "dragger." (Candi's words!)We were nice enough to pour a concrete slab for them to camp on. We believe in being very gracious hosts. Okay, okay, so this slab is leftover from the manufactured home we lived in before we built our current home, but it was handy.I cracked open my bottle of Gewurtz from my birthday just for the occasion. It's not everyday that my friends camp in my front yard, afterall.
And, no campout would be complete without a bon fire, so my firebug husband built us a huge one! We had s'mores and shared some marshmallows with the four-legged types.

Candi let her goofy dogs (Sorry Candi. Zip's goofy, but so are your dogs in their own lovely ways!) eat the leftover marshmallow off her roasting stick. Not to worry, she "sterilized" them in the fire before applying another 'mallow!

There's a Fungus Among-us

Our dear friends, Marv and Candi came and visited us last weekend. They really enjoy wild mushrooms. I enjoy going on the hunt for them, but I refuse to eat them. It all harkens back to the day that my brother told me mushrooms were a fungus. I've never felt the same about them since.
I'm sure Polaris would love to use this photo in their marketing. This is what not to do. A driver and five passengers (Glenn got off to humor me and take a picture).

The kids weren't having as much fun 'shroom hunting as we were. Ellea would point out mushrooms, but refused to touch them. Needless to say, she didn't eat any the next morning either! In this photo she's working her I'm-not-enjoying-myself-look. She was grinning prior to the picture, so don't feel too bad for her.

We had a friendly little competition when we got home to see who picked the most mushrooms. Wouldn't you know, I'm the one who wanted to weigh everyone's bag o'shrooms, and I had the smallest bag! Marv was the big winner with over two pounds. Glenn came in close second with Candi right behind and I came in solid last place!

This is our haul. We mostly found Morels, but also a couple of Calf-Brains (sounds good, no?!). We also picked up garbage--a root beer can and a "barrel of monkeys" sans monkeys. Not bad for a half-hour stroll through the woods.

Dear Auntie Barbara,

I have threatened to sell pony Joe if someone (namely, Morgan) doesn't get serious about riding him. I took your advise and cajoled Morgan into taking the plunge. He really doesn't want to see Joe leave, so he hopped on after an attempt at putting it off for "tomorrow."

The ride went very well. I'm so grateful to have a roundpen for him to start in.

So, Joe got a reprieve. For now. I agree that he's a great little pony, but we have three other horses and only two serious riders. You do the math. Morgan needs to keep up his interest in riding, or Joe will find a new home. You want him? Didn't think so! (I know you'd take him if you had the facilities. Just move up here from California and I'll board him for you!)

Love & hugs,
Retta

Unstoppable

Glenn and I watched a fabulous movie the other day. If you enjoy a good edge-of-your-seat flick, this is the one for you!It was one of those movies where you're holding your sweetie's hand and suddenly you realize that you're sqeezing a little too hard!

Just thought I'd share.

Beer for my Horses

My hubby worked hard last night. He was trimming hooves on two of our horses. Trimming hooves is harder than it looks. When I asked him what I could do for him, he said, "You could get me a beer!" It's unfortunate that you can't see the sweat that was glistening on his face. He's a profusive sweater. I mean really. It drips off his nose and everything.

The dogs enjoy--get rather excited actually-when he trims hooves. It seems icky to us non-canine types, but they rather enjoy chewing on the nasty hoof pieces. You can see Zip standing in line for his next tasty treat. Yummo!

Girl Roll-ups

My girls are funny. During a moment of We're-Getting -Aong-Famously, they came up with this silly idea:

I know, "Let's roll each other up in all the blankets in the living room like little burritos."

And then, "Stand back and I'll unroll myself!"

"Wow, this is harder than it looks. I need a break!"

They'll probably hate me for posting this, but I'm willing to take that risk.

Teeters & Totters

I don't ever want my kids to grow up. Sometime in the not too distant future, they will think they're entirely to "grown-up" to enjoy things like teeter-totters. I will be sad.

You should've heard them carry on about wanting to go to this special tetter-totter location when they heard we were going up on the Cottonwood Butte. Glenn pointed out that we could also construct a teeter-totter at home, but that doesn't have the same appeal somehow! THIS is the only teeter-totter for them.

Snow and Sprinklers

We searched long and hard (not really) and found some snow. Everyone knows how much I LOVE snow, so of course, I had to have a picture!

We were up on the Cottonwood Butte (our backyard--we are so lucky!) and stumbled onto this delightful piece of heaven! Someone suggested a snowball fight. I declined.

I found it ironic that later that same afternoon, the kids begged to get out the sprinkler. My first response was, "Of course not, it's too cold!" (Party Pooper) Then, I reconsidered and said okay, but you have to set it up. No problem. I was trying to plant my garden in the back of the house. I tried to stay in the zone and disregard their delighted screams, but eventually I grabbed the camera and appreciated their silliness!

My favorite line that I overheard from the sprinkler-fun was Ellea, "That was wet!" Can't get anything past that girl!

The View

We are truly blessed to live in this beautiful place.

This is the view from the Keuterville cemetery. Not a bad place to be buried when you die.

Sisterly Love

It must be nice to have a sister. Most of the time. My two girls are only 19 months apart. We weren't really planning to have our kids that close together. It took many, many months to get pregnant with Nicole. We reasoned that by the time we got pregnant, they'd be the perfect distance apart. Voila--I think we got pregnant the moment those words came out of our silly little mouths! Turns out, it was the best thing that could've happened. These two are best buddies. Most of the time.

Here they are "sunbathing." Notice Nicole has very little skin showing. That's how we sunbathe in May around here. Now, Ellea, she's part polar bear, so she's never cold.

Don't know who came up with this brilliant game, but they went around and around our driveway many times. Taking turns, of course. The dogs thought it was great fun also. The girls tried to hurry past me every time they saw the camera, but they know everything is fair game for blogging!

Roller Derby

Okay, so it wasn't roller derby. Not even close, but skating is so much harder than it looks! Don't you think? Other people make it look so effortless and I struggle to stay upright.
Shockingly, the elementary school in Cottonwood buses grades K thru 4 to Lewiston (an hour north of here) and takes everyone skating for two hours. This year, due to budget constraints, several parents donated money to help pay for transportation.

Morgan had never skated before. He was all smiles before he went out on his skates. Then he tried skating. By the end of one lap around the rink, he was complaining loudly that "This is hard!" Yup. I know it looks easy, buddy, but it's NOT! He completed three laps and had had enough. He went off to play with his friends, and spend his money on concessions! He was so proud of the "souvenir" he bought himself. . . . A skull key chain for 50 cents! He was surprisingly frugal with his money!

Ellea was such a good sport about going around the rink at my turtle-slow pace. She has skated a fair amount on her roller blades in our basement. We did good. No falling down except for once when I stopped us in the middle of the floor to talk to Morgan about his technique. Someone ran into Ellea and knocked her down. How rude.

Glenn came and watched (and took pictures). I suggested he could give skating a try, but he's never tried out wheeled-shoes and didn't think he wanted to take up the sport so late in life. Party pooper! Who's the party pooper now?!!