St. Patrick's Day

I don't care what day it falls on, I love St. Patrick's Day.  Whether a Monday or Saturday, I just enjoy the whole day. . .from the music to the meal to the memories.

We had Mom over for the meal of corned beef brisket, potatoes, carrots and Soda Bread.  The Kerner Beef brisket is brined by our butcher and it is an amazing  brine he cures the cut in.  I don't care for mixing my vegetables with good beef, so they're baked and steamed, respectively.  But, the kids like the Soda Bread best.  I'm sure it's because of the "charms" hidden  in tin foil packets throughout the loaf.  They know their meaning by heart. . .the safety pin for health, the button for luck, the coin for riches and the ring for love.  We forgo the table manners so each child gets a piece with a prize, as long as they don't mangle the other pieces.  Dana earned health and Sam earned wealth last night.  

My favorite thing of the evening has to be the stories.  Mom shares with us childhood memories of Aunt Helen not quite cutting off the chicken's head that was marked for supper!  A few stories of their Mother's stubborness.  Grandpa's ability to forget their Dad at the Weiser Saleyard on Thursdays and how someone would have to drive back to town to pick up Dad in the Brand Office.  The kids laugh and we disucss their similarities to our own.

The Irish music is always in the background, something that reminds me of my Dad and his love for music.  The roots of heritage must run deep because Irish music always speaks to my heart.  I can feel the music.  That has always been important when I play a piano piece.  Does that piece speak to me, can I make the music memorable for someone?

I wonder if my kids will celebrate March 17th in their homes.  Will it just be another commercial holiday with kitsche decorations or will they remember their family and the stories.  

I just really hope they remember the charms in the Soda Bread!

Small Town Homecoming

There is nothing like a feeling of belonging at a small town Homecoming. A week filled with activities that embrace a young heart, free to laugh and be silly.  (When was the last time I laughed at being silly?) A week of Spirit Games between classes for the coveted "Spirit Stick", that is always won by the Senior Class. A Powder Puff tag football game that pits  Seniors/Frosh team against the Jr/Sophmore classes, complete with band and cheerleaders.  From TPing the Varsity Teams' homes late the night before the game to the final awards presentation of King & Queen.  A Community lines the streets to see "their team" on a hay wagon pulled by a coach's Dodge 1-ton Ram 4X4.  All the schools, kindergarten through 8th grade, walk their students to Pioneer, State & Park Streets to watch the red & white parade.  Kindergarten kids in every form of red & white outfits with hand cut pom-poms cheer and reach for the Sr. football players hand-slap. 

Proud parents and grandparents come from work, fields and ranches to support their alma mater and kids.  Hats come off and hands go to breasts as the VFW Color Guard displays the flag. The band plays the fight song over and over as the parade route stands and cheers.  Middle aged Moms & Dads remember their Homecomings. . . .

This is why I love where God put me.

 

 

 

Huck Finn & Tom Sawyer. . .Weiser River Style

Sam had his best friend, Chase, for an overnighter yesterday.  They headed out the door after a pile of blueberry hotcakes and I didn't see them until I rang the triangle five hours later for their lunch.  I knew they were "building" something, but didn't think too much about it.  

When they came in for lunch, there was a lot of mud, wet pants, wet socks, wet coats and wet hands! We heard of "cabin walls and rafts", "cool things we're digging out", etc. . . They ate quickly, reclothed in dry attire and headed back out.  

Bruce stuck his head in the kitchen after feeding the cows and said I really needed to check out Sam and Chase's cabin.  Here's what I found. . . .

Proud owners in front of their dugout/cabin

The rafts using the ferry

Arm strength is crucial in moving the rafts across the muddy waters!

 

 

 

 

And when you're a ranch kid, you have to be flexible to all kinds of circumstances.  The horses decided they needed to check out what all the busyness was in their water spot.  I have no idea if the boy's cabin will still be standing today.  At least the bulls were in another pasture!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mud & Sun

I had the 4:00 am heifer check this morning.  I checked the thermometer in the kitchen window. . .37 degrees.  Thinking it should be somewhat frozen or at least firm, I backed the pickup out of the carport.  Swinging open the pasture gate, I thought it looked wet.  But, Bruce had said he'd driven out in the pasture yesterday morning, so in my sleep haze, I pulled through.

My big mistake was not gunning it through the little ditch.  How loud is a stuck pickup at 4:00 am?  I only hoped Bruce couldn't hear me & open the back door shaking his head. 
My options?  High 4-wheel drive & rocking reverse & forward---nothing but mud flying.  OK, I thought, Option 2.  Low 4-wheel drive and gun it!  If I went fast in reverse, I would take out the gate.  If I went slow in low 4, I might be able to circle and get through the little ditch. . .if I didn't take my foot off the gas.

Navigating out the gate, tires full of mud and no sign of life from the house, yet!  I might not have been discovered.  Up the lane and turning onto the road, I could hear the mud flying off the tires.  Turning around in Dickerson's lane, I hit the spot light on the calving pasture.  Of course, most of the heifers were in the middle of the pasture barely visible in the spotlight's glare.  Nothing seemed to be calving, so back to the house.

Thank heavens for coffee pots with timers!  Hot coffee in hand, I started to read my Magnificat devotional.  Hearing Bruce get up, I thought I would just mention nothing looked like it had started to calve and bypass the explanation of how wet it was last night.  Or, I could say "I guess it must have rained last night" and leave it at that.  Thinking I would just not say anything about mud, I had a second cup of coffee.

As the dawn illuminated the pasture gate, the unmistakable marks of mud ruts and large "cookie" circle gleamed in the pasture. . .BUSTED!

Gray Days

Nothing but gray!  Gray in the morning, gray at noon, gray at night. . . .there are not "50 Shades of Gray"!  There is ONE! 

Perhaps it is just the annual mid-winter ranch blues because winter isn't exciting anymore.  The chores become redundant. . .plug in the tractor, break the ice, feed the horses, hook up the wagon, feed the cows, check the mineral, break the ice, unhook the wagon, plug in the tractor. . .etc.,etc., etc.

The days of "riding pens" have turned to "walking pens" for the safety of the cattle, horses and riders.  The pens are dry, but bumpy and some spots are slick.  The cattle have become used to seeing us walk in and around them.  The fog must make us look calming.  At least your toes stay warm! 


I'm sure as sure as the weather finally changes, we'll be kicking rocks about the difficulties this barometric movement brings. 

Missin'

There's just been a hole in my heart today.  The day after I see you drive off, everything seems out of kilter.  We all feel like our world is askew because our family isn't physically together.  Poor Sam was blue yesterday and fell asleep with tears & Petey tucked close.
I know it will never be quite the same as when we all rattled around in our home, jumped in and out of the car on the way to various and sundry events.  But, you must always know how much you are still a part of the everyday cycle of family life here.

I know you will find your "daily rhythm", just as I found mine during college.  I loved getting up before everyone else, even the Morning Girl, using a mini-alarm on the sleeping porch.  A very illegal practice, but for me it was what set my day positively.  We had a little 4-cup coffeepot & I would turn on the under-cabinet light so I could read a devotional, write in my journal & get ready to face college class.  My journal became my venting outlet, a place where I could get my irritations and worries out without anyone else interupting.  I loved being one of the first in the shower, just as everyone else was starting to stumble out of the porch.  It can be advantageous to be a "morning person". . .

Here are a few morning pics to start your day!  Much love every minute. . .

School Day

Why does the first day of school bring bittersweet feelings and tears in all of us?  Dana's breakfast favorite waffles & chocolate chips and Sam's Texas Longhorn hotcakes were a reminder that summer's easy schedule was being replaced by the clock and it's wagging finger.

New clothes felt exciting, but I realized the need to start ironing Sam's button-down shirts the night before.  I felt the need to recheck the teacher's list, the lunchbox & ice water jugs, the school lunch check.

Another First Day Photo on the front steps reminded me we are in a different home.  Twelve years of "First Day" photos were always highlighted on the front porch with flower pots & puppies; one girl, then two, then a little boy added to that morning.  And now, we're back to just two. . .a tall, beautiful dark haired girl & a smiling, clean cut boy.  I miss the three  stair-step kids together.

As we drove into town, another "First Day" tradition, we prayed as we started down Sweet's Hill, like we had for 14 years.  I wondered if the kids will always remember the way we started each school year. . .love, memories and thanks.