Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Swooshin' Wednesday

When Mike Hart says, "Get your SWOOSH on," hearts inside little old ladies like mine go pitter patter, and we smile really big and get a wee bit giddy. 

Actually, I maintained a lot more composure than usual yesterday when I spotted one of the ZAGS nicest and hardest working players ever----much more, in fact, than the day I met Viggo Mortensen at his brother's home in Sandpoint. 

Downright goofy, brainless and speechless----that and several other star-crazed adjectives would be needed to describe that day.

In contrast, when I saw big, tall, very good looking Mike Hart walking through the hallway at MacArthey Athletic Center yesterday, I blurted what most self-respecting ZAG-crazed fans would say.

Don't yell it!  Don't scream it! Simply blurt it----my uncharacteristically disciplined brain instructed me as to precisely how to approach this golden ZAGS moment. 

"There's Mike Hart," I blurted calmly, while Abby, the receptionist, former ZAGS volleyball player and coach, lamented that the men's basketball posters were not yet available.

I can't really remember if I suddenly and rudely blew off Abby's news in mid-sentence the second I saw Mike Hart, but she seemed to handle my behavior just fine.

Surprisingly, I'd uttered the announcement of Mike Hart's presence loudly enough that he heard me AND he turned around AND he came back my way.

He had a friend with him AND the friend seemed to know exactly what to do when the old lady at the counter pulled out her cell phone camera.

I did not even need to tell either of them that I wanted a picture with Mike Hart.  As the friend turned on the cell phone, Mike stood beside me, put his arm around me and smiled. 

"I'll take two," the friend said. 

In seconds the Mike Hart sighting and photo op ended.  Aware of my purpose for being there in the first place, I turned back to sweet Abby and our conversation about those posters. 

I have a feeling Abby sees a lot of crazy old ladies like me transform into giddy school girls the minute one of the beloved ZAGS players walks by. 

Oh, I did learn during that brief encounter that Mike, who graduated year before last, does a lot of stuff in his present employment with the ZAGS, and some of that includes "basketball technology."

"It's has a lot to it," he explained, almost apologizing because some people may be thinking "underwater basket weaving" whenever he says he's in to basketball technology.

Not this old lady.  Not this ZAGS fan.  We've all studied our college basketball enough over the years to know that the business of successful college basketball involves a lot more than good athletes. 

If Mike Hart's in to basketball technology, I'm figuring the ZAGS have a good man on board to ensure that their program continues to keep all the crazed fans as crazed and inspired as ever. 

Granted, I'm disappointed that I did not come home with my annual pile of posters to distribute to friends and family, but Abby assured me that she'd do her best to get them to me as soon as possible.

I also learned later, after posting the photo on Facebook, that one of the outlaws in the extended family knows Mike Hart from his days in Portland.  Kirsten posted that he played rec. basketball with her son Tyler.

"What a nice young man," she added. 

Agreed, Kirsten. 

Just in case you can't tell, yesterday's Mike Hart sighting made my day as did the trip to Trader Joe's afterward.  

For dinner last night, Bill and I enjoyed some noodles Alfredo yesterday and those caramel nut cookies and an Angus beef burger, which I picked up cuz I thought it was a frozen burger and bun.  

Silly me.  I had to cook the frozen patty. 

And, finally for my friend Helen.  She likes my maple tree, so I keep taking pictures.  The leaves are falling quickly, but it has definitely put on a phenomenal show this year (as seen below). 

We were supposed to have a yucky, rainy day today, but so far morning skies were filled with stars and no clouds.  It's beautious, to say the least.

Hope it lasts.  Happy Wednesday.  And, ladies, GET Yer SWOOSH On.  Ya never know who you'll meet up with when you do!

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

The Ride

Janice Schoonover Photo

Danielle and her son Gabe, 2.  He did ride with Mom. 

My longtime friend Janice and her pretty, spotted boy. 

Incomparable and always photogenic Selkirks

Emily preferred to add a pretty skirt to her riding attire. 

Janice Schoonover Photo

Kim enjoying a brief rest

Libby and I shared a few childhood horse tales. 

Photo, courtesy of Janice Schoonover

Barb at one of our stops. 

Photo, courtesy of Janice Schoonover:  a perfect mix:  riding a pretty horse in drop-dead beautiful scenery and Kiwi's brother Roper keeping track of us.   

I rode with a 2-year-old yesterday.  His name is Gabe.
His big sister Emily rode her own horse.  She’s 4.

I was the oldest among our group of trail riders.  I’m 67.

We talked about when people are old enough to be scared of horses.  Obviously, Gabe and Emily are not scared.  In fact, Emily fell asleep during our ride and had to be transferred to another horse.

Talk about laid back.

I’ll be the first to tell you that when you’re 67 you’re old enough to be scared, and let me add that I would hardly use the term “laid-back” to describe my demeanor----or my horse’s.

There’s an well-defined segment in side of me that knows fear.  It’s the same segment that creates images of Marianne lying in a heap after being dumped from Lily.

Lily’s got the power and the occasional ornery nature to do bad things to me. Part of comes from her own anxiety.

Lily did a bad thing one day on a trail.  I’m not quite sure what she did, but I do know I was suddenly lying on the ground with my left arm fully implanted in a stump.  Lily’s hooves were mere inches away, firmly planted in the soil on that wet slope.

There was a crowd.  They saw what happened.  They asked if I was okay.  I asked them to give me a moment so I could make sure all the parts still worked.

They did.

I climbed back onto my tall horse, and we rode on.

Another time---in front of a crowd---Lily reared on a downhill, rock-filled trail----just like Silver did for the Lone Ranger.
Only difference:  we weren’t being filmed for a cowboy show, and I was mighty happy that my camera stay intact, stayed strapped to my body and simply left a dent in my back during that surreal moment.
I think about these two events quite often when I climb aboard Lily.  She’s got the power to do really bad things to me.

Yesterday could have been a toss-up for who was packing the most fear when we set out on a trail ride with my friend Janice, her family and a couple of wranglers from Western Pleasure Guest Ranch.

I first thought that just Janice and I were headed off to enjoy the splendor of the beautiful fall day.  Later I learned that someone else was coming.  When I saw that several someone else’s, including a 2-year-old, were coming, my fear factor gage went off the scale.

Again, that segment within conjured up even worse images of Marianne in a pile on the ground with a crowd watching, including a 2-year-old and his big 4-year-old sister riding her own horse.

To say that my fellow riders extended extreme patience in my behalf would be an understatement, especially Janice who seemed to know all along the ride what Lily and I needed to do to stay alive and safe.

We rode for 3.5 hours surrounded by stunning scenery, and during that time, Lily experienced the lesson of her life.  She learned to calm down while going down hills, she learned to step carefully through the wet rocks in stream crossings.  She also learned that the bogeymen in her life were not gonna get her.

While all this was happening, I was learning that my mare listens to me and that she trusts my word when I tell her it’s okay.

In short, I settled down and eventually derived total enjoyment from all aspects of the experience----the beautiful Border Collies and Aussies  flanking our every move or running ahead only to stop to make sure we were still coming, the pure joy of visiting with old friends, seasoned at this trail ride stuff and having the times of their lives, the delicious eye candy of Gold Creek in the fall and finally my own joy of knowing that both Lily and I had overcome fear and had become strong.

What doesn’t kill you makes you strong.

I’ve heard that one a time or two, and it’s nice to be alive and thrilled to repeat it.

I don’t know if Gabe Otis is gonna remember the day we went trail riding together, but I can sure tell you that I shall.

It was a memorable and meaningful day, and I am so thankful to have had the experience.
We did have one incident along the trail when Janice wanted us to pose together with our spotted horses.  Lily took one look at her gelding, and, as the crowd watched, once again put on a performance.

I’m not really sure what she did, but it was noisy and it was quick.

Happily, when it was over, I was still sitting on her----to ride another day.

Thank you, Janice and gang, for a treasured experience. 

Monday, October 20, 2014

Mother Nature Speaks

Mother Nature handed us a beauty yesterday.  

My sisters, their pups, Willie and I took advantage and took our cameras to the aspen grove up Rapid Lightning Creek Road. 

At long last, the color has come, and it IS indescribably beautiful.


Sunday, October 19, 2014

Precious Day

Well, today makes the 36th "Precious" day of our lives.  We're spending it without "Precious," but we may see one of the Seattle Sounders biggest fans tonight on ESPN2 when the Sounders play the Los Angeles Galaxy for the league title.  

Annie told us the other night that we should be sure to watch this important soccer match because the Seattle section will be comparatively smaller than LA's, and that we should be able to see her when the camera pans the fans. 

So, we'll probably be watching, and during this day, we'll probably be thinking of many of the "Precious" memories of our lives with "Annie Love of Sandpoint, Idaho."

That's what she used to tell people when she was about the age depicted in the photo above with our beloved and ever-patient horse Tiny. 

I don't know if she still spouts that personal identity out in all her worldly travels, but like everyone who becomes a child of the world, so to speak, her roots are still firmly planted here where she was born on a beautiful October day in 1978.

She loves to come home, eat Second Avenue Pizza, play with her dogs, take the 4-wheeler for spins around the place, visit with friends and family, do some geocaching and take in all that "her own private Idaho" has to offer. 

Folks who met Annie, even at a young age, were amazed at her can-do outlook and her quickly learned skills.  

One friend, who's in to psychic thinking, said she had a special aura, the first time she saw Annie as an infant.

Her Aunt Mary once remarked about the scenarios----how Annie could always envision how things were going to be----and that she acted upon that knowledge. 

My mother was amazed by her years ago when we ran a food booth in conjunction with one of our horse shows.

"I couldn't believe how she could make change and wait on the customers so efficiently," Mother often reflected.  

Annie was about 9 or 10 at the time.  

As parents, we've seen different stages of Annie AND, yes, different behaviors.  

For example, the same kid who trained for months as an adult to climb Mt. Rainier and later Mt. St. Helens with her dad often---well maybe all the time---expressed her objections to family hikes when she was younger. 

We were pretty convinced she wasn't a happy camper sometimes.

Well, these days she welcomes any opportunity to go camping.  To say she embraces adventure is an understatement.  

These days a host of Annie fans, both family and friends,  live vicariously through her "on-the-go," world-traveling lifestyle.  And, sometimes we get to go with her, e.g., New Zealand, Maui, Ireland, etc. 

And, of course, this weekend, she's keeping up her traveling trend, exploring Los Angeles and playing in Disneyland.  

To say we are proud and thrilled to have Annie as our daughter, as our "Precious," is beyond understatement. 

Thanks for all the "Precious" memories, Annie, and here's wishing you a phenomenal birthday celebration and may you enjoy the same sunshine that embraced our world the day you were born. 

Maybe we'll see you on TV tonight, and for sure, GO SOUNDERS!!! 

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Saturday Slight

Tina Ward, owner of Weekends & Company

I met Tina Ward yesterday, and she helped me out. 

I was searching for a mandoline.  When my friend Florine told me I needed a mandoline, I first wondered where she'd get a silly idea like that. 

After all, I have hardly mastered even one song on the banjo; why should I add insult to injury by adding a mandolin to my musical instruments.

Well, context in what Florine was suggesting to me quickly unveiled itself in the next sentence when she mentioned my ongoing quest to bake a better potato-chip.

"Oh, so they have mandolines in the kitchen too," I thought.  Continuing to read Florine's note, I learned that these mandolines cut stuff, and yesterday I learned that they will even cut a thumb. 

Enter Tina.  She's the former gift buyer for Coldwater Creek.  Like so many former Coldwater Creek employees, she has a new job.  She now owns Weekends & Company on First and Cedar (used to be Ross Rexall Drug a year or two ago). 

I had made my way into town, starting at the north part at Wal-Mart, looking for a kitchen mandoline.  Two different clerks there tried to find one, but couldn't.  A third clerk said, "We don't have those," as the other clerk pointed toward Home Depot and said they might.

So, I went to Home Depot where I visited briefly with my friend Cathy (did you, Cathy, reread yesterday's Cindy Wooden blurb that her book is not yet available in the U.S.?) Yes, Cindy's book featuring Pope Francis will be available in the U.S. and when it is, that website link will feature it. 

On to the kitchen showroom at Home Depot where the lady told me they had no kitchen mandolines.  So, I moved on to Sears.  Again, no dice, but they do have allergen machines which I need to consider in the spring when my pollen itch starts again.

Finally, I walked into Tina's kitchen store.  She happened to have just what I was looking for on the shelf.  Had just gotten it in the day before.  So, I bought it and enjoyed visiting with her.  

She told me that her eventual plans for the store include some cooking clinics.  

Who knows, maybe she'll teach how to make a better potato chip. For now, I can say that meeting her was an enjoyable experience.  I wish her good luck at her new adventure. 

After purchasing my mandoline, I wasted no time after getting home, removing its plastic casing.  

Out came some homegrown potatoes.  I peeled them and then started getting acquainted with the mandoline.

I'm guessing the very first slice got my thumb. So, it was time out to get the blood flow stopped.  Then, back to fingering the mandoline with much more care. 

Eventually the four potatoes turned into pretty thin slices.  Debbie and Florine had told me that cold water (in Debbie's advice, even overnight) is a key to a better potato chip. 

So, I followed instructions and this morning pulled out a few slices, dried and seasoned them and stuck 'em in the microwave.

It took much less time that my second attempt, and I still have to work on the seasoning, but talk about crisp.  I've got that part down. 

So, I'll keep working at it and eventually my chips should be acceptable to the palate.  We all know Rome wasn't built in a day, so patience with potato chips should win out, I'm thinking. 

In other news, it's birthday season.  Three days of family celebrations again.  Sefo finished his yesterday, Jim today, and Annie tomorrow.

Annie flew to Disneyland to celebrate her 36th.  She'll top it off tomorrow with friends at a Sounders match at the LA Galaxy. 

It's a rainy day, and it sure was dark for my morning walk, but no cars on South Center Valley Road meant I had it all to myself. 

I'm still considering whether or not I'll use this rainy day to drive to Spokane to pick up Gonzaga season schedule posters.  That may happen, and if it doesn't today, it will for sure one day this week.

We'll probably watch a football game or two today and with good weather predicted for tomorrow, the horses will get another fall workout.

Besides football and upcoming basketball games, I'm noticing more and more that we've reached the "silly season."  Ya know that last couple of weeks before elections.  

I'm also noticing that if you don't want someone to win an election, you conjure up a lawsuit against them in your behalf.  I have a feeling that may backfire in our local election.  Plus, anyone who has their campaign sign hanging on the Hoot Owl will get my vote.   

I'm also thinking that a lot of the local folks who've put out the smaller election signs will get my vote because they aren't polluting the roadsides and irritating me with the reminder that some big moneybags with questionable agendas are supporting their cause. 

Plus, when people on motorcycles are stealing my friend Shawn's campaign signs, that makes me damn mad and more determined than ever to vote for her.  She's one classy politician, and I'll vote for her any day of the week. 

I've also decided I kinda like that cute guy who graduated from Cornell.  Now, if my dear friend George had won in the primary, I would have voted for George, but since George isn't on the ticket, I'll go with good looks, a big smile and Cornell any day. 

And since I once wrote a story about the Three Name Lounge in downtown Sandpoint, which is a town favorite, why not vote for that lady who has two names? 

I don't care what she put on her Facebook page.  I've known her for a long time and have always admired her common sense and intelligence, even if she does have two names. 

And, if ya read between the lines, you'll see that I'm an equal opportunity voter.  I give both of the main parties a chance by voting for folks on both sides of the aisle. 

Makes for a more interesting mix and maybe even some attempts to get along, if for no other reason than to honor the voters who'd like to see some positive results. 

Guess that's enough politics for now.  

Happy Saturday.  And, if ya need a mandoline, Tina can help you out!

Friday, October 17, 2014

Friday Wrap AND Exciting News

My title for today made me think of yesterday when I actually had a wrap.  Debbie, who has spent a busy week in Eugene, Ore., viewing potential talent for next year's Pend Oreille Arts Council line-up, arrived back in town in time for us to get together and pick up some dinner treats.

So, we chose Pack River General Store, and I chose the chicken caesar wrap once again. Believe me, the staff there puts out a good product with all their food, but the wrap has become one of my new favorites.

At MickDuff's I've moved on from the Irish Pub burger to the Tiki burger:  a Kobe beef burger dressed with pineapple and swiss cheese. Yum!

I don't know where we'll be going for our Friday night out with family tonight, but just talking about those two delights makes me hungry. 

Yup, all the sudden it's Friday, the end of another busy week.  

I was quite pleased to finish my tack room project in the barn.  From now on, I'll never have to worry about falling through the floor, and there's a whole lot of yucky stuff in garbage bags, bound for the dump.

It was sad to put the Life Magazines I've been saving since the early '70s in the bag, but the mice had devoured most of the stories and pictures, leaving the magazines as piles of confetti.

Believe me, the mice had lived well in that tack room, and I felt like an Ebola medical worker while doing some of my initial work----face covered with bandanna so as not to breathe the air particles while sucking up at least 3 million mouse droppings. 

I wore gloves and long sleeves and when the stuff had been vacuumed, I emptied the shop vac far away from the barn.  Having had the spotted knapweed rash experience (it's much better and almost gone), I became fully aware of the importance of taking great care while removing gloves. 

Yes, a bit of the week ran somewhat parallel to the stuff we've watched on the news, and I learned firsthand how easy it can be to pick up something when not using great care with clothing and gloves.

Each time I worked in the tack room, virtually everything I wore went straight to the wash.  I've learned my lesson, thanks to the nasty rash. 

I could not help but think this week about the time we spent at Kootenai Medical Center in Coeur d'Alene three years ago when my sister contracted viral encephalitis.

For some time, the medical experts did not know if her form of the disease was viral or bacterial, so we immediately learned about wearing protective gear.

If we were in the room with Laurie, we had to wear masks and gowns.  If we left the room, we had to carefully discard our gear, and when we returned, they would suit us up with brand new gowns and masks. 

We looked like outer space folks but we also happily complied.  When the staff finally learned that Laurie's form of encephalitis was viral and not contagious, we no longer had to wear the gowns. 

Every once in a while we are subject to wake-up calls about the fragility of life and the potential for bad germs or other particles that can really do a number on us.  

When that happens, we not only need to be very careful about those entities, but we also have to take great care in NOT overly alarming the public.  

In Laurie's case, we were very cautious about who knew and what they knew.  We also took a proactive approach with groups who might have reason to be concerned about her illness.  It all worked out with no undue panic and with all of us feeling comfortable that Laurie was in no way contagious. 

As we watch the Ebola crisis unfold, I have faith that mistakes made early on will not happen again and that the consequences of this outbreak will be minimized.

Until this week, I had no idea that I should be more careful when plucking unknown plants from the ground.  My bad experience with the spotted knapweed rash alongwith my knowledge of the dangers of mouse droppings have taught me some good lessons. 

We humans make mistakes, and sometimes communications in this "Information Age" or lack thereof can turn out the be the biggest contributors to mistakes like those we've witnessed in the news this week and what I've experienced personally. 

Mistakes are not fun, but they are often the greatest teachers. 

Well, I guess that's a wrap for this Friday, and I'll go about my way, taking a bit more care than I did last week. 

Happy Friday, and now for the really good and exciting news!

THIS JUST IN!  Congratulations to Sandpoint's own Cindy Wooden.  We ARE PROUD OF YOU!  Cindy just told me when the book is available in the United States, she'll send me a blurb!  FYI:  Paul Haring is the photographer.  Cindy says the book will be available at the following link:


Thursday, October 16, 2014

To Create a Better Chip

I've got a challenge ahead.  Those potato chips I've mentioned a couple of times?  

I've gotta keep perfecting them, along with learning how to make them more efficiently.

At the present rate, it takes about an hour for me to assemble enough chips, prepared from the microwave baking, to fill half a sandwich bag.

And, my second attempt still had too much of a starchy flavor.  They were better than the first, but they need work.

This challenge has suddenly gone from my "it would be nice to do" list to "it must be done and ready by the time Jeff's movie wins some awards" list. 

Jeff Bock loves chips as much as I do, and he's been monitoring my progress in hopes that he can profit from my mistakes and learn to make his own homemade chips for munching or grazing.

After reading this morning's newspaper, I immediately felt the urgency of getting these chips perfected in time for them to be served at one of the many receptions Jeff is sure to attend once his movie, set in Sandpoint, makes the bright lights of Hollywood.

In all seriousness and chips aside, seeing Jeff's face on the front page of the Daily Bee this morning at first made me think I might be losing my mind.

After all, he lives in Los Angeles.  What would he be doing on the front page of the local paper?    The online edition can be read at 10 a.m. PDT. 

Then, I looked a little closer at the front page and realized that Mary Berryhill had written a feature story about the movie he and his friends produced in Sandpoint this past summer.

I may have mentioned in a blog posting a while back that Jeff was inspired to write a screenplay based on a story written by Keith Lee Morris.  It's called "Losing Julia Finch," from Keith's story collection The Best Seats in the House.  

The action unfolds at the Tam, City Beach and Eichardt's, to name a few places. 

Jeff graduated from Sandpoint High School in 1992; Keith, in 1981. Keith is an award-winning writer of short stories (Eudora Welty Prize 2005) and an author of several books. He has taught at Clemson University for a number of years.

Well, since a few telephone calls and emails, earlier this year to connect Jeff and Keith, the film project has reached the editing stages.

I saw Jeff the day before he left Sandpoint after he and his crew had spent a few weeks here filming in various local venues.  He appeared genuinely excited about the movie's prospects----great acting, great scenes and, of course, a beautiful backdrop for a film. 

As his former teacher and friend and having worked with him on a three-year video project, I can attest to Jeff's talents and his vision for producing something extraordinary. 

And, of course, Keith, the author has already proved himself numerous times with some impressive literary awards.  

The bottom line with this whole project is that once again Sandpoint will have reason to be proud of the talented and brilliant people whose roots are implanted in this community.  

I have great faith that Jeff's production, based on Keith's creative mind, will go far in the world of film. 

And, speaking of Sandpoint products doing well in that big wide world out there, once more Sandpoint's Marilynne Robinson, already a Pulitzer prize-winning author, has earned finalist status for this year's National Book Award.

So, on this Thursday morning, good luck to the authors and to the film producers.  

Now back to figuring out how to perfect those homemade potato chips. 

Happy Thursday. 

Note:  I had trouble loading this YouTube video featuring an 2009 interview with Keith Lee Morris earlier today.  So, I'll try again.  If it works, enjoy!

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Color in the 'Hood

Taken from my bike
with my cell phone day before yesterday:
 Murray's field on Selle Road. 

The dogs and I went to Samuels Store to get lawnmower gas yesterday.  

On our way back, I drove up a road off from Colburn-Culver to admire the ever-increasing color in fields and on hillsides.

It’s coming, but I think we may hit the height this weekend.  

The good news is that we haven’t had a lot of rain to pound leaves to the ground.

So, if all conditions remain in synch, maybe we’ll have a grand finale of a grand state this weekend.

For now, the eye candy on shrubs, trees and ground foliage is still pretty exhilarating. 
I actually found the most striking colors right in my back yard while walking from the pickup to the house.  Newly painted white fences tend to enhance the scenes, just as they do for cute black-and-white buddies.

So, that was the extent of camera fun yesterday. 

Today I’ll continue the winter prep with a trip to my neighbor’s for some shavings.  I put away some hoses yesterday and did some tidying up in the barn.

This year the barn doesn’t have quite so much space because, after the mice devoured or destroyed numerous bales of hay in the usual storage place down the lane, I decided the hay could all go in the barn this year.

I may have a little more luck with mouse control.   We’ll see.

With hay taking up more space, I’ve had to go into efficiency mode on where stuff goes inside that barn.

If I can get the tack room floor fully fixed before the snow flies, I’ll have plenty of room. 

Whoever built the floor whenever they built it used razor thin plywood for the floor and then stuck a loose sheet of linoleum over the top.

Needless to say, the plywood has not stood up well, and when one stands on it, the plywood tends to crumble beneath one’s feet.

A week ago I tore about a third of the decadent floor out and filled it in with gravel.  Two thirds remains, and it’s a dirty and hard job, but I think I can complete the task in the next week or two.

This morning, after reading the paper, I’m reminded more and more that ZAGS season is approaching, and we ZAG Nuts are gonna get a little crazy again for a few months.

Can’t wait for the perfect antidote for our winter doldrums to get started.

On that note, I’ll get on the move and just wish everyone a Happy Wednesday AND to anyone of my classmates who happen to be reading, I’ll leave you with some news.
50th Year Sandpoint High Class of 1965 reunion is taking a bit of a twist from past reunions.  We’re old and mostly retired, so we’re not locked into using the weekend for the reunion.  

Plus, those of us here in town who are inundated with activities and company throughout the summer months figure September will be a much less hectic, more peaceful time to get together.

We have scheduled it for Thursday evening, Sept. 10 and Friday evening Sept. 11, 2015, tentatively at 41 South at the end of the Long Bridge for Thursday and Western Pleasure Guest Ranch for Friday evening’s banquet gathering.

We figured that folks could come to town, do their reunion stuff and then have a weekend to enjoy other aspects of the area.   So, mark it on your calendar.  More news coming next month.  If you’re a reader and know someone in the class, pass the word. 


This is taken off North Center Valley Road where Bert Wood keeps another herd of cows and calves.