Slight Detour

Pranks R Us

2012-01-30T08:00:00.000-08:00

Ray Gapp's birthday is today. I sent him a birthday wish via Facebook. Don't know if Ray ever reads his Facebook stuff, but if he does, he might smile.

Of course, I'm smiling, thinking of Ray Gapp and the day Ruth Straley CUT HIS TIE RIGHT OFF.

I don't know her motive, but I know that Ray was taken aback, and he had to wear a short tie for the rest of his teaching day at Sandpoint High.

Yup, Ruth was the school secretary at the time, and Ray was teaching imps like me how to type.

"Leave your machines alone, please. Leave your machines alone."

That was Ray's daily mantra, as we never seemed to remember to "leave our machines alone" while he was reading out loud from the typing manual for the next "fjf-space" drill.

I think Ray must have used up Ruth's patience that day in the office, so she picked up a long pair of scissors and snipped away as he bent over the desk in her face.

Now, that was a good up close and personal prank, especially for everyone who witnessed it and for everyone who heard about it.

I don't know what Ray thought, but he survived. And, so did Ruth.

I've been reading the Steve Jobs book and have decided that, brains aside, Steve and I may have shared at least a few kindred spirits bouncing back and forth.

I appreciate a good prank and have even pulled a few myself over the years, mainly on the telephone.

But that damn Steve Jobs and his nerdy techno-genius crowd with all their telephone advancements have ruined all the good ol' ways we could make prank calls, while the party at the other end had no idea.

I'm sure that my friend Merriam Merriman has Caller ID these days and would no longer pick up the phone if she saw my telephone number appearing in the window.

These days, she'd just let it ring, figuring that more than likely Marianne may be disguising her voice and trying to sell Merriam vacuum cleaners or chastising her for remarks made about the Stanford University president.

Yeah, there's truth to both stories. I haven't teased Merriam for a long time, but I will tell you she was a good victim.

For some reason, I could even hold my own by not even giggling in the middle of my impish spiels to Merriam.

Pranks can work well for boring speakers too.

My friends and I all loved it the time one of my teaching colleagues got up during halftime of a painfully boring speaker's presentation, marched to the electrical closet and pushed the breaker button connected to the sound system.

When the microphone and overhead projector would not work after halftime, our colleague sat in the crowd poker-faced while the speaker endured a visible meltdown, bringing the presentation to a speedy close.

"Oh darn," we all thought as we were dismissed early, headed to our cars and learned who the "culprit turned hero" happened to be.

I had another friend who brought a whoopee cushion to a faculty meeting. The principal never did figure out why we all seemed so jovial as he conducted the meeting, but the victim did AND there were mild threats of death to the perpetrator afterward.

We all loved it.

So, you can imagine how much I loved the story in the Jobs book about the pocket remote that could screw up television signals. He and his buddy Steve Wozniak devised it and made a practice of walking into rooms where people were watching TV.

They'd push the button and picture would turn to static. Someone would get up and bang on the TV. At that instant, one of the Steve's would push the button that cleared up the screen.

After a series of these incidents in one setting, they were amazed at the control they had over the viewing crowd and the crazy antics people would employ to get the television working again----everything from pounding the set to dancing on one foot to get the TV to work.

Now, I would have definitely enjoyed being there, as long as I wasn't the victim.

Ever since the years of "Candid Camera" and because of my own fetish for pranks, I try to remain vigilant against victimhood when situations don't appear as they should.

One of the more common settings is the produce department at any grocery store.

Ya know those plastic bags for tomatoes, cucumbers, etc.? Well, sometimes they refuse to open.

After trying both ends and having no luck, I've been known to survey the room, just to check and see if there's a camera filming my every move.

Seeing none, I usually go back to fingering and massaging the bag until it opens.

Of course, my extra vigilance in the produce department may stem from the day when I bought a clump of bananas at the old IGA. I selected the clumb because it had the biggest, fattest banana I had ever seen.

We were going on a picnic that afternoon, and I'd figured that banana would be mine.

When we sat down to eat, I wasted no time grabbing the banana clump to get that prime piece of fruit.

It would not separate from the rest. I pulled and pulled, only to discover that the banana was attached to the rest of the clump with tiny, thin wire.

It was rubber and fruitless.

I figured there were a few morals to be had in that prank: fat bananas will fool any fool.

Happy Monday.

Game Faces

2012-01-29T07:40:00.000-08:00

Several extended family members met at Sandpoint Middle School gym fka Sandpoint High gym last night to watch Willie's JV team take on Lewiston.

It was a tough game for the Bulldogs; some of their regular players had been promoted to varsity and some were new players.
From the looks of this morning's sports section, the JV's loss of players was the varsity's gain, as Sandpoint defeated Lewiston.
Congrats to Tyler and the varsity.

While watching Willie's game, we provided a cheering section of sorts---with a little foot stomping and a lot of yelling.

The JV game was okay in the minds of several young cousins from Salt Lake, Bellingham, Tacoma and Plummer.

Nevertheless, they were much more keen on action at halftime and after the game.

Finding some balls to bounce and listening to a word or two from their older cousin Coach Love, they played a little full-court pick-up ball.

Teamwork was sketchy, at best, but the players managed to get the ball up and down the floor and even dump a few balls into the basket.

Of course, the greatest part of any high school sporting event comes from the concession stand, as Jacob demonstrated while watching Willie's team.

Kidz had fun, and adults enjoyed visiting and cheering.

For family, it was an overall win, to say the least.

Life returns to normal today with the week's worth of company headed home.

We hope they all arrive at their various destinations safely.

Happy Sunday.

Saturday Slight: Marianne's Political Endorsement

2012-01-28T07:58:00.000-08:00

Yup, I'm bypassing the Presidential primary stuff and jumping right into one of my most important political endorsements of the year.

Vote for George Eskridge to serve another term in the Idaho State House of Representatives.

He's a Republican. That's okay! :)

He has represented our area since 2000.

George is a Sandpoint High School graduate, and I used the same sophomore literature book he used when I went to high school.

That was back in the days when we put our names on a graphic box stamped just inside the textbook.

I did not know who George Eskridge was at the time, but the name stuck in my mind over the years since we were bound for life by textbooks.

Actually, I finally met George until a few decades later when he returned to his hometown after a successful career elsewhere.

At that time, what had really endeared me to George was his brother Vern. I knew Vern through my summers spent working for the U.S. Forest Service.

I think anyone who ever knew Vern would second the motion that he was one of the nicest people around.

And, if George was Vern's brother, he had to be okay.

Since then, I've gotten to know George and his wife Jenise and have figured out that Jenise and I are kindred spirits, of sorts.

George is as decent and committed as they come, so that's while I'll continue to vote for him as our State Representative.

Go GEORGE!!

~~~~~

We had a busy day yesterday attending the funeral of Helen Thompson (she was my husband Bill's wife Marianne's brother Mike's wife Mary's mother).

Bill gave a very succinct explanation of the family relationship during his eulogy for Helen.

The Presbyterian Church was packed, and the new minister Andy pulled off a coup by welcoming the folks sitting in the front overflow section as new members of the choir and reminding them that practice is Wednesday nights at 5:30.

Those who came to remember Helen represented a true cross section of Sandpoint and the Wrencoe community.

It was a lovely service, and the visiting afterward was fun.

~~~~~~

Today we'll probably attend Willie's JV basketball. They played last night against Lakeland. This afternoon Lewiston comes to town, and we're hoping some of the cousins and their kids will be able to attend the game.

~~~~~

I guess this is going to be a short Saturday Slight because there's not much else on my mind except to get on with the day.

So, happy Saturday. A good day to all.

Mad Sky and Seeds

2012-01-27T07:46:00.000-08:00

Turnabout is definitely rewarding play when you're carrying a camera.

I took a lot of lake photos the other day.

Cold Pend Oreille water on the move was the draw, for sure.

Photography, however, has taught me to look for all dimensions.

There's the obvious: a pretty lake.

Turn away from the lake, and there's a sky begging to be photographed.

Mad skies have appeared off and on around here over the past couple of days.

The wind blew this one in the other day while I was walking the shoreline of Pend Oreille.

The anger in this one, however, simply floated onward, probably on a mission to scare someone somewhere in Montana.

To catch a contrast of colors outside in January is not always that easy.

This scene offered itself, so I accepted and snapped this shot.

I liked the result and decided to feature it this morning.

The sky today looks pretty blah. No threats. No promises. Just there.

And, that's what we can expect for the rest of January.

So, I'm thinking we got off easy this year.

During this last week of January, my geranium seeds from Burpee came in the mail.

The packets are lying on the kitchen island.

I opened one the other day, just to see what geranium seeds look like.

I'd never seen one before.

Just little brown seeds.

As with photography, I always think about the magic stored inside seeds of any kind.

It's truly amazing to me to think about the beauty that can sprout from those dried-up little drops of potential life.

There's no clue in the outward appearance of a seed indicating what it's gonna be.

I'm guessing the care and nurturing makes all the difference as it does in all living things.

As the second step in the process of my early, early spring excitement, I shoveled a pathway to the greenhouse yesterday----enough to allow the door to open and close.

Once inside, I rounded up 25 pots and set them inside a big square pot holder.

Burpee sent me at least 40 seeds---maybe even a few more.

So, I'll take great care to avoid dropping any of them on the floor; after all, they cost about 75 cents a seed.

By the time the weekend's over, they'll be resting in their potting soil inside pots upstairs here under a grow light.

Burpee says to expect them to pop out of the soil in 14-21 days.

Next, when two leaves appear on the plants, they should be transplanted to bigger pots.

Thoughts of all those brilliant red blossoms scattered about our yard will motivate me to take really good care of the seeds, seedlings and eventual plants.

If all goes well, in a few months, I'll be out in the yard with my camera snapping photos of those pretty homegrown geraniums.

Stay tuned.

For now, enjoy the mad sky and have a great weekend.

On Golden Pend Oreille (Pond-er-ay)

2012-01-26T08:05:00.000-08:00

We live in what has often been documented as one of the most beautiful areas in America. That's nice to know.

What's even better, however, is that many days out of the year we can have a piece of that phenomenal beauty all to ourselves.

That was the case yesterday when I drove off from Schweitzer Conoco with my Snickers almond bar and French Roast coffee (afternoon caffeine fix) and headed down HWY 200 to take some photos.

I made up my mind about ten miles out that Trestle Creek picnic grounds would be a nice place to stop.

We do have all those turn-outs on the highway between Pack River Flats and Hope, but with the beauty of our Lake Pend Oreille, sometimes it's just nice to get a little more connected----connected with the sound of frigid waves of water slapping shiny wet rocks, with the sight of a Bald eagle eyeing your every move from a limb high up in a tree and with the knowledge that yours are the only footprints making a trail through what's left of last night's snow.

In my walk, I looked for photos and found a few----nothing special, though, when you consider the infinite array of drop-dead images our lake provides every second of every minute of every day of every year.

I wanted to blow really hard----even though the wind was already doing that---up toward Schweitzer and send that bank of clouds hanging over the mountaintop on its way.

That would have made a nice picture. The stubborn clouds hung over the basin.

As always along lake and river shorelines, I scanned my rocky route for arrowheads. Finding an arrowhead in North Idaho still remains on my bucket list. I've spent years searching with no luck.

The best part of the entire walk was knowing that the eagle and I, along with a few Canadian honkers, were the few occupants of that lovely picnic grounds where summers bring hundreds of sunbathers, swimmers, picnicers and boats.

An even greater aspect of yesterday's experience is knowing that I can enjoy that same solitude along several of America's "most beautiful" lakeshore lines many months out of the year.

And, it doesn't cost a cent---'cept the gas, the candy bar and the coffee.

Wet, Wild and Warm

2012-01-25T08:06:00.000-08:00

Kiwi and Kea came through the door looking like Panda bears. It was 8 p.m. last evening and about time to shut them in to the garage for the night.

I'd never ever seen them so coated with snow. They had black rings where their eyes where opening and closing must have melted off the snow.

I'm sure I could have scraped off enough of the sticky white stuff from rest of their bodies to build at least a snow dog.

I looked out the door and saw the vehicles completely covered.

"Must be this storm is a little worse than predicted," I thought, closing the door.

The steady dump of heavy flakes was still going strong when I went to bed.

Our roof occasionally roared as deposits slid off to land on top of the latest 4-foot high piles.

So, this morning I was expecting another messy challenge of making my way to the barn.

But no.

It warmed up over night. High, blustery winds were in full force blowing away some moisture.

Turns out the walk to the barn was easy.

The barn door, however, hadn't heard about the weather change. It still refused to open on the first try, requiring several hefty pushes and a few cuss words to start moving.

Other than that, chores weren't bad this morning, and the air feels so good outside.

The sky has cleared, and it looks like a pleasant day ahead.

I'm hoping the warmth will take away some more snow. Maybe this will be the worst of the winter.

Whatever the case, January is almost over. Every year, its conclusion marks reason for celebration for me.

Yesterday, while visiting with my mother, she kept saying "nothing's new." Finally, I reassured her.

"It's January," I said. "You know how January tends to grind on."

She laughed, and agreed.

Trying to muster up something fresh and hopeful for her day, I pointed at the calendar on the wall with the cats doing Yoga.

"You can turn your calendar over soon," I said, "and see what exercises the cats are doing for February."

Mother loves her Yoga cat calendar. Any mention of it makes her laugh. Those cats with their crazy expressions are, indeed, funny.

We resort to the trivial sometimes just to make it through January.

Seems like stuff that normally goes without notice becomes big and important----a helpful means of breaking the monotony of winter.

I'm sure we would not get very excited about cat calendars in June, July or August.

In fact, we might be so busy we forget to turn the calendar into the next month.

Speaking of which, Bill had one calendar on the wall next to his desk that stayed on the same month for about three years. I think he finally took it down.

I'll have to go check when I go downstairs. That will give me a task to break the sameness of this January morning.

Actually, it's not that bad, but I must say that every day in January requires a little extra in the mood-lifting department.

Oops, Bill just came back in the house. I do not need to go downstairs to find out what happened to the calendar next to his desk.

"What did you do with that Quest calendar," I yelled to him. "Is it still hanging on the wall?"

"No, it's in the pile on the floor between the desk and the wall," he said. "It was about four years old and people were giving me calendars, so I took it down."

I don't know how traumatic taking the calendar (featuring photos of the Quest Kodiak) was for Bill, but he's moved forward in life.

No longer is March 2007 on the wall next to him providing guidance on what he's going to do on given days.

Yup, it's Jan. 25 upstairs here----wet, wild and warm---a little like my mind.

And---just one more speaking of calendars item----I had a wonderful telephone visit with my friend and classmate Andrea.

She's been sitting in a field of flowers on the bed next to my computer since January 1.

In a calendar photo, of course!

Happy Wednesday/Almost-End-to-January!

When the Sun Shines Bright . . . .Let Pictures Do the Talking

2012-01-24T08:09:00.000-08:00

Sunday Snow Shots

2012-01-23T07:44:00.000-08:00

It was a miserable morning of trying to do chores yesterday. For the second consecutive day, the barn door would not budge when I tried to open it.

That was after I had to warm up ice-coated latch snap in my hand for five minutes.

After several minutes of chipping away at the bottom of the metal door, it finally began to slide open.

After leading the horses outside to their hay, I started the usual barn cleaning.

For some reason, the horses spent the night creating bigger-than-usual messes in their stalls.

Generally, I could get all the bedding and manure in one cart. Yesterday's cleaning took three, fully loaded.

And, of course, pushing or pulling a cart full of anything through deep snow presents a challenge.

I also discovered that the spewing automatic waterer was putting out a larger stream.

Nothing was easy. I had grown tired of the week's worth of winter, especially knowing the car I drive will have to go to the shop so the doors will close.

Bill heard a tirade when I came to the house. I know he lacks the digits on which to count the number of times I've spewed my distaste for winter.

Those moments usually come after trying to accomplish something outside which, in good weather takes 20 minutes.
On days like yesterday, the same tasks require four times as much effort and triple the time.

The day wore on. I plowed out a big area next to the barn for future cartfuls of manure.

I checked the automatic waterer and determined that Ron, the plumber, needs to come to fix its plastic housing. That does mean carrying water to two stalls until it's repaired.

Anyway, my mood improved as the organization phase of getting ready for the next day's excitement went well.

This morning four more inches of snow came. It's breath-takingly beautiful out there. Schweitzer, recently designated as America's best small-town ski destination, is a skier/boarder's paradise this morning.

Jimmy, the snow reporter, says Schweitzer has received 34 inches of new snow in the past week, at the lodge, no less. More is expected.

I'll probably put on some snow shoes today and trudge through some fields with my camera.

When the commotion and the organization of yesterday's problematic chore situation died down, I took off afoot, walking as far north as Eva Whitehead's farm, snapping a few snow photos.

Annie, the our neighbor who owns the pretty house with the Cabinet Mountain backdrop, can enjoy the scene more than any of us. She's living in Hawaii for the winter.

Just figured I'd better do it because that's the one aspect of winter I do enjoy.

Snow creates a host of problems, especially on farms, but capturing its sheer beauty makes up for its downside.

Today Bill will try to figure out what we can do about the car. For now, I'll probably hang out here, shoveling and shooting (my camera).

Happy Monday!

Sunday Morning After

2012-01-22T08:19:00.000-08:00

I guess this could be appropriately called the "morning after."

Attending last night's Gonzaga basketball game against San Diego IN THE KENNEL in great seats would rank right up there in lifetime highlights.

On this morning after, it's a gorgeous winter day.

All is calm and all is bright, except for an occasional "boom" sounding off up at Schweitzer for avalanche control.

As far as yesterday is concerned, it was nip and tuck whether Lasean and I would make it to the Zags game.

First, one of my car doors would not shut. Then, two. Then, three.

Bill surmised that the problem is electrical, so the car sits in the storage shed, and tomorrow we'll have to figure out how to get it to a shop with three doors flying open.

Plan B involved taking his Ford Ranger pickup---the deerslayer.

Even yesterday, I'm betting deer were staying off the roads.

We even considered a rental car as we moved through the morning, plowing, shoveling and testing those Jimmy doors to see if they would ever decide to shut.

Lasean and I had originally planned to meet at Sagle between 1:30-2 p.m. because our wonderful benefactor had told us it's a good idea to get to the McArthey Center an hour before the game.

At one point in the morning, I came inside to check my Facebook and learned that a horrific accident had blocked HWY 95----for as much as six hours.

Long story short, the highway was blocked for ten hours. One person died, four semis were involved and some other vehicles.

The Idaho State Police website said to take another route.

I read in one account that the Dufort detour was safe. Roads had been sanded; people were making it through.

I told Bill about the awful wreck. He said he'd go out and drive the highway in the Ranger to see just how bad conditions were.

During that time, Lasean called me back from an earlier call and said, "Let's forget it."

I agreed.

Then, Bill came home, saying the roads were not that bad.

Eventually, I called Lasean back to suggest that maybe her son Charles could take her to the game.

She said Charles was plowing somewhere north of town and had told her the roads were not that bad.

So, we decided to give it a try.

We drove the Dufort route and enjoyed mainly dry roads all the way to Spokane.

From the moment we walked into McArthey gym, we were mesmerized by action on the court and action all around us.

We enjoyed watching the entertaining hour-long workout the Zags do before the game, all to upbeat, cool music.

We also watched for familiar faces, like John Stockton, the KHQ commentators and Coach Few. Mark Few appears at the last minute before the game.

The cheerleading squad is phenomenal.

Seeing the Gonzaga student body in the Kennel trumped almost every aspect of our visit last night. The electricity, enthusiasm and magnetism are difficult to describe.

One must see and hear that scene for oneself.

In short, the ZAGS folks know how to put on a good three-hour show, and the nitty gritty of the whole event----a basketball game---was exhilarating, to say the least.

Seeing those players, close-up, in real life, gives a whole new appreciation for their athleticism and tremendous basketball skills.

I enjoyed every minute of the game which went by much too fast AND they won handily.

The trip home was a bit dicey from Rathdrum north as new snow was falling, coating the highway and diminishing visibility.

Normally a lead foot, I did not mind driving 45 miles an hour, nor did the folks behind me. I think everyone on the road last night was aware of the tragedy that had happened earlier in the day.

So, we made it home safe and sound. Again, this morning, I feel very grateful toward angels, Pat and Carol, who gave up their seats for us to enjoy an unforgettable night.

Thank you so much!

Saturday Slight

2012-01-21T07:59:00.000-08:00

Payback: We all knew we were getting away with something. Still, we shamelessly boasted about our wonderful weather and all the stuff we were doing to enjoy it----stuff we normally don't get to do from November to at least March, sometimes even May.

Of course, some of our friends get to do that stuff all year round cuz they get out of town.

I was actually, for a while, shamelessly so, feeling sorry for some of my friends who headed south shortly after Christmas.

"Poor saps," I thought. "And they coulda saved all that money and just stayed home to enjoy themselves THIS YEAR."

Envy is among the seven deadly sins, but my sinful soul remained blank in the Big E department, for a while anyway.

I'm starting to feel a little green this morning, and it has nothing to do with being Irish.

It's all because we've been enduring the Mother of all Paybacks this week. Catholics call it penance.

Only in this case, I'm finding myself uttering more cuss words than "Hail Mary's."

Take this morning, for example.

Rain on crusty snow---not too bad walking to the barn, cuz when you pick up your feet at least the snow stays put, rather than loading down your boots.

Rain on crusty snow---about four inches worth. The Kubota tractor is gonna be grunting and groaning to clear that out.

Rain on crusty snow, topped off by heaving frozen ground. Wet gloves by the first grab at the barn door. Door handle coated with a good layer of slightly melting ice.

Rain on crusty snow, topped off by heaving frozen ground: old woman yanking, heaving and growling while trying to budge the stubborn barn door open.

Ice-coated shovel sitting next to the door that won't open. Sopping gloves by the time a few shovelfuls of crusty snow are removed from in front of the door.

Door finally decides to give in----sliding stubbornly about one third of the way open.

The horses can get out, I surmise, and head quickly to the hay pile, grabbing almost half a bale to take to the barnyard through the crusty snow.

Half a bale in one hand and a gate that won't open in the other. Too much snow to move it. So, I squeeze my body and the bale (dripping hay in my face) through the narrow opening.

Hay is heavy when you're carrying nearly half a bale. Just inside the gate, hay topples over into a big pile.

That's when cuss words start flying.

Okay, enough of that. Long story short---it was downright miserable doing chores this morning.

The barn door finally decided to open. The automatic waterer between two box stalls, which, thanks to heaving frozen ground, sits uneven and sizzles as it constantly refills because of a dripping stream of water coming out a corner.

Heather Horse does not like the sizzles so she shies while coming into the barn; I made a mental note to warn Bill of Heather's sizzlephobia when he puts the horses in the barn tonight.

I shoveled out the 16-ton wet snow from behind the barnyard gate. It opens now.

Bill and I have another situation to work out this morning: the passenger side door to the Jimmy SUV won't close, probably due to freezing rain on snow with a little chaser of ice build-up.

That door needs to close before this afternoon because I'm planning to have a passenger with me while taking off on a driving adventure to Spokane. Destination: ZAGS game, and I don't want her to fall out before we get there.

Yes, there are angels alive and well around here. A few weeks ago, a ZAGS angel generously bestowed some game tickets on a Catholic saint and a Catholic sinner. The sinner will drive the saint to the ZAGS game, with tickets subsidized by the angel.

I'm hoping God will be good to us as we make this trek from Sandpoint to Spokane and home again during this intense period of Mother Nature payback time. My saintly friend Lasean deserves to see the ZAGS in person tonight as they take on San Diego.

And, I, the sinner, am most happy to earn some redemption for my many failings by seeing that she gets there and back and has a good time in the process.

God has been busy this week, and we're all issuing a grateful thanks to Him for watching over my brother, his wife and their dog.

While on their way to Sandpoint the other day, they hit black ice on the John Day Bridge in Oregon.

Their pickup spun around several times. They came to a stop after another vehicle slammed into the back of their truck.

They were shaken up but fine. My brother went to the rear of the pickup to see how their dog Holly made it through the accident.

She was gone.

It was a dark night, and no amount of calling for her did any good. After having their pickup towed to a small town called Arlington, they spent a sleepless night, as did all the family praying that God would perform a miracle.

He did.

Mike called Thursday morning to tell me their prayers were answered.

Another angel, working for the Oregon Transportation Dept., spotted Holly along the roadway that night about a mile from the accident, picked her up, took her home and kept her for the night.

The next morning he started making calls, which led him to Mike and Mary.

Happily, Holly and her family were reunited later that afternoon.

So, the fact that Mike and Mary are all right, safely in Sandpoint, and that their dog survived a traumatic experience, calls for a "Holly Lujah" chorus, indeed.

With that in mind, this not so good Catholic proclaims this morning that "God is Good" and that I have faith that He'll see that we survive payback time.

GO ZAGS! Thank you, Angel Pat. :)

Helen: A Wrencoe Treasure Passes On

2012-01-20T07:48:00.000-08:00


Mary Thompson Brown and Sigrid Thompson Brannan with their mother Helen at the 2008 Women of Wisdom luncheon. Helen Marie Burnstad Thompson was honored as one of Sandpoint's Women of Wisdom in 2001.

Ever since that wintry February day in 1967, when we all stood side by side in the Thompson living room at Wrencoe, and Probate Judge Frances Sleep asked George (never mind that his name is Mike) if he would take Mary Louise Thompson as his bride, our two large families have been connected.

So, we all experienced deep emotions, running the gamut from loss to a life well lived, when Mary's mother Helen passed away yesterday afternoon after 95 adventurous, productive and blessed years on this Earth.

Soon after Helen's passing, the Facebook walls of family members lit up, sharing tributes to their mother, grandmother and lifetime inspiration.

I have a feeling that a multitude of tributes and wonderful anecdotes will be shared far and wide for this lady who touched so many lives so positively throughout her years.

A few decades ago, Helen Thompson, mother of seven, was named America's Mother of the Year.

That meant appearing on a "Good Morning America" segment.

If I recall correctly, her son Mike accompanied her to the set.

Yesterday a friend told me about how, back in Sandpoint, the mayor gathered everyone at City Hall around a television set to watch.

Great expectation ensued as the mayor watched the interview, waiting anxiously for the moment of supreme pride when Helen would announce to America she was from Sandpoint.

"I'm from Wrencoe," Helen told millions of viewers.

Sandpoint's claim to national fame would have to wait----trumped by Wrencoe, the little rural community a few miles to the west of what we now know of America's Most Beautiful Small Town.

Helen's fame was sealed, however----all around Sandpoint, Wrencoe, or wherever she went.

Over the years, we "outlaws" united by the marriage of Mike and Mary, have spent many a good time together, hiking, driving to mountain lakes, sitting in the sun at the Thompson cabin, watching the next generations get acquainted.

Many of us have shared a common love for horseback riding, for watching horse shows, for talking horses. It's a lifelong family thing for both clans.

Helen would be proud to know that love of horses continues through the generations. Horses were important to this independent proud woman who hailed from Burnstad, North Dakota.

Helen was always proud of her seven children---Jim, Mary, Mike, Chris, Beth, Sig and Kirsten.

She had good reason. All have lived stellar lives. All contribute generously to their communities. All carry on their Mother's love of learning.

Heck, I even heard that some Thompson sisters were playing Scrabble yesterday afternoon after saying good bye to their mom.

Helen loved Scrabble.

Helen so loved her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

And, they all adored Grandma Helen.

The Thompson clan is gathering and I'm sure they'll be organizing a proper celebration to honor their matriarch.

Once again, the "outlaws" will spend some time together.

I'm sure there will be many such lively and fun gatherings in the future.

And, as the years go by, Helen, A true "Wrencoe Treasure" will not be forgotten.

RIP Helen Marie Burnstad Thompson. You did well.

What to Write on an Empty-Screen Morning

2012-01-19T07:49:00.000-08:00

I can vividly remember the wads of crumpled-up notebook paper on the floor next to my classroom desk in Mrs. Weaver's, Mr. Drinkwater's, Mrs. Sodorff's or Mrs Parker's classes.

The English teacher had given a writing assignment, usually no set topic, always 300 words, must be in blue or black ink, turned in at the end of the hour.

Stress-induced gasps or sighs of frustration occasionally broke the silence for the next 50 or so minutes as adolescent brains tried to muster up something . . . anything reasonably intelligent on their paper.

Sometimes the occasional human sounds were accompanied by whisper-like thuds of paper wads hitting the floor.

I sit here this morning, no longer with an empty screen, but still wondering where I'm going with today's topic.

Will there even be a topic introduced, supported and concluded by the end of my class--er--blog period?

Thank goodness for computers. We don't have to throw things when we can't think of things to say. We simply hit the delete button.

Sometimes the things we have to say deal with topics we'd rather delete all together, but then sometimes a little light in our brain clicks on and we start hitting those keys like gang busters.

I don't miss those blue or black Bic pens when I write.

After all, I'm left-handed, and when you're left-handed, you go with the flow---of ink, that is. I can remember many dirty, ink-smeared palms after finishing my 300-word themes.

I also don't miss the time spent wadding up those substandard thoughts, words and sentences and throwing them to the floor next to me.

Somehow I made it through every assignment. In Mrs. Parker's class I could always find some angle about my cow Millie. Mrs. Parker loved the Millie stories.

I don't recall a single instance in my academic writing experiences where I had to take my paper----with blue or black ink, one side only, spaces between paragraphs, clear margins and single-line cross-outs to the teacher----wondering if I'd still receive a passing grade if it wasn't quite finished.

I guess I never really needed that "kiss of the Blarney Stone" smacked last March in Ireland to conjure up the gift of gab.

What appeared on the paper may have been substandard in the teacher's view, but, at least, I always felt relief of getting through yet another assignment with an introduction, body and conclusion. Oh yes, don't forget the transitions.

In retrospect (transition), my computer screen felt a bit empty this morning as did my head. So, I resorted to the age-old guideline of just going with the flow. Winging it, so to speak.

The words eventually flowed on this cold winter day, but thank God, not the ink.

And, the floor beneath my chair is not littered with piles of discarded notebook paper paper piles.

One more writing assignment finished, and I still have minutes to go.

Happy Thursday. Stay safe. Stay warm. And, please don't issue me a grade! :)

Birthdays and Bridge Fun

2012-01-18T08:02:00.000-08:00

I had to lead off today with a picture of Myrt.

She's 94 today.

Last night at a family and friends dinner, she climbed aboard the sleigh provided for the event by Western Pleasure Guest Ranch.

With her are son Mel and his wife.

Happy Birthday, Myrt.

You're an inspiration to us all

and

a darned good friend of my mother's.

We all survived the re-entry of winter yesterday, although it turned messy as the day wore on. Snow fell almost continuously here until 3 p.m.

We plowed the driveway twice, and it could use it again today.

This is the BIG SNOW EVENT day, but so far, it's pretty quiet out there.

I'm hoping the weather map I saw on TV last night was accurate. It showed snow all around us and for some strange reason missing us completely.

Guess we'll know before the day is out.

It is pretty out there this morning, and I do intend to go snap some photos. Visibility yesterday was pretty minimal.

Bill made it to Spokane and back for a meeting last night, so we're thankful for that.

I'll keep this short and just post some more photos, taken at last night's lovely "sleigh-ride" dinner at The Bridge.

I added a couple of "thumbs up" photos----one taken in Seattle when Annie "hung out" with newly retired Seattle Sounders goalie Kasey Keller.

The other was taken at The Bridge. Janis (pronounced 'Yanee') has a production company in Spokane. He came to America from Liverpool but was born in County Clare, Ireland. Janis was shooting footage for a commercial. I knew my daughter would approve of his "thumbs up."

Happy Wednesday.

Tuesday Twitterdeefluff: Snow News Is Good News

2012-01-17T07:49:00.000-08:00

So far, this morning, I've shoveled a pathway to the barn and to the paperbox. So far, no complaining about our overnight snow deposit. I won't call it a "dump," cuz it's pretty light stuff.

And, that's why I'm not complaining.

I just put that shovel into high gear---or was it I who was in high gear pushing the shovel-plow?

Whatever the case, it wasn't too hard to break a pathway to the barn or even out through the barnyard for the hay piles.

The barnyard was a bit more challenging because occasional piles of frozen horse apples would bring the shovel to a quick halt.

It was actually fun breaking trail this morning. We have about five inches and the powdery flakes are still falling.

Yesterday morning, the Schweitzer ski reporter told us radio listeners that the resort expects anywhere from 19 inches to 37 inches by the weekend.

So, they're in high-mountain heaven, for sure.

Here on the flat, we could have up to two feet before the temperature rises to the 40s on Thursday, bringing rain on all that snow.

One thing's for sure: we'll have a mess before it's over.

I feel this morning that we're doing some penance for the guilty pleasures we've enjoyed since Thanksgiving.

God and Mother Nature don't want us to get too cocky with all that bare ground strutting and endorphin overloads we've been enjoying.

There must be a special sin or two for such indulgences, right?

Even our gratitude doesn't hold water when it comes to dishing out one or more snow flakes for every sunbeam or here in North Idaho. Well, maybe it holds water---cuz we're sure to get our share before winter ends.

Anyway, we've had a nice run of enjoyable weather, so we'll deal with this segment and hope the calendar will guarantee spring when spring is supposed to come.

The nice thing about this snow is that we finally have some new material for picture-taking. I'll probably take the camera out later this morning and snap shots of our new winter wonderland.

In other important news, Bill and I each ate a Twinkie yesterday. I couldn't find Twinkies on the junk food shelf during an earlier shopping trip, but, by golly, Yoke's had 'em yesterday.

So, I decided to purchase a box, maybe freeze them, and when they're completely off the grocery shelves, pull one out, just to enjoy a taste of new nostalgia.

Our samples tasted mighty fine. I still can't understand why the company is going bankrupt.

Maybe a bail-out will save them cuz it seems to me that Twinkies are just too big to fail.

Even without chronic Cabin Fever this winter, I was excited to hear that "American Idol" is returning to Fox TV this week. Hard to believe that the show has become a staple in the "help us make it through the winter nights" lineup.

It seems like just yesterday I faithfully tuned in to every show during those first seasons, watching the likes of Rueben Studdard, Clay Aiken and Kelly Clarkston.

My all-time favorite American Idol was, and still is, Carrie Underwood. There was never any doubt in my mind that she would make it big as an entertainer and as a much beloved idol.

One year during this show's decade-long run, I was really excited because a young lady named Katharine McPhee was competing. I'm sure I was not alone in this region, feeling a connection with Katharine, who finished the season as runner-up.

Her grandmother Gloria rode horses with my mother one summer. Gloria and her friends, Patsy and Tillie, were going on a vacation with their husbands to the Tetons.

They knew their vacation would involve a horseback ride or two, so they wanted to get their bodies and minds in shape for climbing aboard.

My friend and former student Patti called one day, asking we could arrange for some horseback outings for them. We had enough rideable horses at the time, and my mother was more than delighted to take this ladies on a few short trail rides.

The group became good friends, and we kept in touch with them for years. I still see Tillie occasionally in the grocery store.

Now back to Gloria's granddaughter, Katharine. I see that, after the Super Bowl, she will star in a new television series called "Smash."

Pretty cool, and again, it will be fun to watch, since we have a slight Sandpoint connection.

Well, that's enough "Snow News Is Good News" for this morning. I'm sure that tomorrow's posting may be a bit on the flakey side too---maybe even some pictures.

Happy Tuesday.

Remembrance of Two Great Men

2012-01-16T07:19:00.000-08:00

Today we remember the life and the achievements of one of the great Americans of our lifetime: Dr. Martin Luther King.

I read somewhere this morning---maybe on Twitter---that Dr. King so deserves this day of honor because he accomplished great strides in putting our "Declaration of Independence" into practice.

A lofty achievement, indeed.

Well, another great man is being remembered on this day in a rural Washington community.

He was a great influence in his community, in his church and with his wonderful family.

The life of my Uncle George is being celebrated today. Although I can't be there for his service, I'll be there in spirit.

I did not see my Uncle George very often over my lifetime, but every visit left me with a fond memory of a good and gentle man. In addition, everything I've ever heard others say about George was filled with great admiration.

This morning, in his honor, I'll close with his obituary along with photos of him and my late Aunt Rita, which my cousin Sue posted on Facebook last week after George's passing last week.

Rest in Peace, Uncle George, and much love to your family.

GEORGE B. WALTHO, SR.
George B. Waltho, Sr., of Ephrata, Washington, pitched the game of his life on Wednesday, January 11, 2012, going home to be with The Lord and the love of his life, Rita.
George was a lifelong resident of the Ephrata/Soap Lake, Washington area. Born on September 8, 1926 to George and Margaret (Maggie) Waltho, he was raised in the hotel business in Soap Lake when it was a resort destination.
George served in the United States Navy from 1944 to 1946 and was stationed in Guam and Saipan.
He had a great passion for the sport of baseball, playing semi-pro ball for the Wenatchee Chiefs, and later pitched and was first baseman for the local town league.
George met Rita Brown at a church social and a few months later, on September 13, 1947, they were married by Father John Marceillo at Our Sorrowful Mother Catholic Church in Soap Lake.
Their marriage was blessed with six children: Loretta (Raymond) Mayer, Ephrata, Madalyn (Doug) Miller, Ephrata, Laureen (Darrel) Monasmith Spokane, Wash., Rita (Jerry) Magnaghi, Kennewick, Wash., George, Jr. (Kathy) Waltho, Ephrata, and Carol Waltho, Renton, Wash; 12 grand-children: Lindsay, Mitchel, Melissa, Angie, Amanda, Aaron, Macie, Abby, Kristin, Michael, Jessie and Lisa; and 14 great grandchildren – all who recall a life filled with wonderful memories of their father and grandfather. He was very proud of each and everyone of his children and their accomplishments.
Following George’s Navy commitment, he worked as a milk and fuel delivery man for Maude Radke, then proceeding to car sales and service, for several years, with Eastham Chevrolet. George also leased and operated a Chevron gas
station for many years on the corner of Basin and Division, known as the ‘busiest corner in town.’ Later, he became a Jobber for Standard Oil Company, operating an oil distribution plant. During this period, George was approached by Bing Ramm and Willis Helms, to join them as a partner in Inland Oil Company of Ephrata, where he retired in 1989.
George was a charter member of St. Rose of Lima Knights of Columbus, achieving the designation of Grand Knight and District Deputy. He enjoyed bowling with his Knights of Columbus team for many years, as well. He and Rita were instrumental in the formation and establishment of St. Rose of Lima Catholic School. He was involved in numerous local civic organizations, a coach for local youth baseball and was a certified basketball league referee. Upon retirement, George became a member of the Lakeview Golf & Country Club, where he enjoyed numerous rounds of golf with his friends, Paul Klasen, Bill Korach, Dick Ross and Paul White. He even achieved every golfers’ dream ... a “hole in one” on Hole #5, (no less) the autumn following a liver transplant.
Upon retirement, he and Rita enjoyed traveling, gambling, golfing and spending time at their Blue Lake cabin, where many happy memories were created with their children, grandchildren and friends.
Anyone who had the opportunity to meet and know George, can vouch for one of his BEST attributes ... his sense of humor. His love of his family, community, honesty and work ethic were some of his greatest traits.
George was preceded in death by his parents; caring wife, Rita; and his sister, Margaret (Babe) Manning.
The Holy Rosary will be recited at 7 p.m. on Sunday, January 15, 2012 at St. Rose of Lima Catholic Church, 323 D St. SW, Ephrata.
The Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated at 11 a.m. on Monday, January 16, 2012 at St. Rose of Lima Catholic Church with Internment to follow in the Catholic Cemetery, located directly behind the church.
A reception will follow at St. Rose of Lima Catholic School located at 520 Nat Washington Way, Ephrata.
In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to St. Rose of Lima Catholic School Scholarship Fund, Ephrata; the Mel Leseman Fund at Washington Trust Bank, Ephrata branch; or Columbia Basin Hospital Foundation Fund, Ephrata.

Miss Ing: A Winning Candidate

2012-01-15T08:04:00.000-08:00

Well, the Saturday TV-watching marathon ended for me just as Miss Wisconsin was singing opera. She seemed pretty good as I watched her in my drowsy state, but she was not good enough to keep me from going into Dream Land.

Besides, I already knew she'd won Miss America, thanks to Facebook.

I avoided Yahoo Internet news last night cuz I knew it was very possible that a headline would be letting us Westerners know the 2012 winner BEFORE the pageant began on our Pacific Standard Time TVs.

Sorta like the time a few years ago when my niece called from Las Vegas.
She happened to be on site at the National Finals Rodeo prior to when we would be sitting down to watch the TV version and our Sandpoint boy, Rowdy Buechner, who was doing very well in the bareback competition.

The phone rang. There was a lot of noise in the background.

Still, I could make out the awful news which I did not want to hear BEFORE seeing Rowdy perform.

"I just saw Rowdy Buechner get bucked off!" my niece yelled.

I can't remember the rest of the conversation, but I think she knew by the time she hung up that we sure wished she had kept that news to herself, at least for another hour.

I don't know if I thanked her for the hot scoop from Las Vegas.

Well, like the rodeo, last night's pageant news did not stay in Las Vegas long enough.

It's not too exciting watching your potatohead queen do her thing--in vain--when you already know a cheesehead has won.

Still, I do like cheese with my potatoes, so no complaining there.

I'm still convinced our Miss Idaho represented the state in nothing less than stellar fashion.

Throughout most of my life I've enjoyed a good beauty pageant. It sorta makes up for the "there but for the grace of God go I."

In my case, God didn't dish out grace, beauty, coordination, talent or anything that would allow me through the door of any respectable beauty pageant.

The closest I ever came to "strutting my stuff" on a stage was in a potato sack (just like Miss Idaho), black leotards, black turtleneck and a huge paper mache head.

Good ol' Sally O'Donnell and Marsha McComas, the Pep Club honchos that year, dreamed up my starring role for the Drill Team Variety Show back in 1964.

"You'll be the rat fink," they told me one day while proposing the idea in secret. "Comic relief, that's what you'll do."

My job was to appear outside the curtain, dance around, fall down, do stupid things and keep the audience occupied while stage scene changes were taking place behind the curtain.

They had found the perfect candidate, and I did not even need to practice.

Fortunately, my name, playing the role of Rat Fink, did not appear on the program, but I'm sure it did not take the audience very long to figure out my real identity.

In addition to performing comic relief, I helped Marilynn McKenney that night.

I think she played an gorilla swinging across the stage on a rope for a number from South Pacific.

Her contact dropped from her eye as she swung.

When Marilynn's segment had ended, the curtain closed, I ran out, did my thing and then got called back. As I ran back across the stage, I looked down and saw the contact lens.

So, there ya go, Marianne's closest brush to stardom. The Drill Team Variety Show that year was a success as was the show a few years later when I was actually advising the drill team.

Remembering the success of those shows during my high school days, I was happy to continue the tradition.

We had some rollicking good performances back there in the '70s, and I remember some acts today as if they were yesterday: Pat Gunter riding a tricycle and falling on the floor, Jim Hubbard using a brownbag as a duck call----blowing it up really big, taking it away from his mouth and yelling "Here duck. Here duck," and probably most memorable, Tom Evans miming the ten o'clock curfew siren.

Definitely "you had to be there" situations, but so funny.

One year the Drill Team Variety Show presented a "Miss Ellaneous" pageant. I wrote up the basic format----probably again a way for me to deal with beauty vicariously.

We were looking for the true "Miss Ellaneous." We had about a dozen candidates, all members of the Ponderettes.

Miss Adventure---climbed a metal ladder while wearing hiking books and German liederhausen.

Miss Spell----did not get a 100 on her spelling test.

Miss Calculate---wasn't so good in math.

Miss Shapen---ate spaghetti and drooled it down her face.

Miss Matched---could not figure out the right ensemble.

Miss Fortune----I think a crystal ball was involved.

Miss Quito---long nose, zipped around the stage looking for victims

Miss Judge----well, you get the verdict

There were others . . .

. . . And, then there was "Miss Ing."

She had a handsome escort but never showed up for the pageant.

Still, she won.

Nobody was jealous. Everybody seemed happy. A good time was had by all.
And, best yet, nobody knew until the very end of the pageant who was gonna win. I think it was a lot more fun back then.

Saturday Slight--Miss America Tonight

2012-01-14T08:01:00.000-08:00

Just a reminder that tonight's the night for Miss Idaho, Genevieve Nutting, to appear on the 2012 Miss America Pageant.

It starts at 9 p.m. PST on ABC.

Again, thanks to all who voted in the video contest.

It looks like Genevieve finished in the top tier of vote getters.

The question on some folks' minds is if the results are determined based on each state's population.

Guess we'll find out.

In the meantime, Miss Idaho did win a scholarship the other day, based on an essay she wrote about the meaning behind the four points on Miss America's crown.

It's been fun promoting her video votes and especially fun for Debbie, who's been receiving little tidbits of information from Genevieve's mom during this pageant week.

~~~~~

Bill and I took another walk through the Albertson property yesterday. It was his third this week, and my second.

This time we walked the log across Gold Creek and set out into some new territory I had not seen before.

This part of the walk, some of it along a bench with a few rock outcrops, offered views of meandering, partially iced-over Gold Creek below and the Selkirk mountains to the west.

Unfortunately, a cloud cover had come in, diminishing the chances to catch any stunning light effects. It was also late afternoon, so once the sun disappeared completely, things were pretty dark and dull.

Nonetheless, it was a fun hike, and we even went to some places Bill had not seen before.

We came out of a wooded area to a big sandy beach alongside Pack River.
Fields and fencelines across the river led over toward the farms along the Rapid Lightning Creek Road.

If it hadn't been so close to dark, we probably would have kept walking along the river bank.

On our way back, while trudging up a pretty steep hill from Gold Creek, I got to thinking about how our age group---especially women---are probably following a fairly different lifestyle from our predecessors of a few decades ago.

"I wonder how many 65-year-old women would have been out here hiking up one hill and down the other in the middle of January," I said to Bill.

I may be wrong, but it seems like our generation got tuned into fitness at a good time.

Guess we'll find out how much good it did in a couple of decades, Lord willing, that is.

~~~~

We went to the Blue Heron Restaurant at Samuels for Friday-night dinner with just Willie last night. Debbie's on the road in Northeastern Washington for Girl Scouts.

Willie was looking forward to some down time on this three-day weekend---after a grueling couple of weeks with three away basketball games.

Bill's looking forward to his Saints game today. We won't even talk about prayers on this one, since praying did not seem to influence the ZAGS game the other night.

Ouch!

Maybe they'll bounce back tonight.

Busy day for TV watching, so I'd better get out there and accumulate my quota of pedometer steps before all the fun begins.

Happy Saturday.

We're All Connected

2012-01-13T07:49:00.000-08:00


In this shot, Bill was talking to Annie yesterday on my iphone.

Bill's cell phone spent Wednesday night near this spot.

Annie was heading home from work early yesterday, due to a cold and runny eyes.

Even though we were out in the "wilds" of the Albertson Fish and Game wildlife management area, she caught up with us while she was walking from Fremont to Wallingford in North Seattle.

Not a big deal, but usually we don't spend a lot of time talking on cell phones while out hiking.

Readers from yesterday, however, know that Bill lost his cell phone the day before after his boss called him.

As predicted, the iphone found the lost phone.

Bill used his GPS to lead me and four Border Collies on mostly untrodden ground in the Western portion of the F & G property.

We walked through timber and through brushy low-lying wetlands, mostly frozen from the cold temps of late.

Bill was trying to retrace his steps with his GPS.

We got into an area close to where he thought he may have dropped the phone, so I dialed his number.

Within seconds we could hear the high-pitched music coming from an area where we had just walked.

"Let's find it with no more help from the sound," I suggested.

Within a minute or so, Bill stood over his phone, which still works after a night out in frigid temps.

So, we walked on to see some spots where folks usually can't walk most of the year.

We came to a pond where the dogs had a great time racing across the ice.

Bill said the pond used to be a part of the Pack River.

Later we came across some downed barbed wire, sure to trip someone and almost grabbing hold of Todd as he raced along the path.

So, we gathered pieces of wood and made a temporary bridge over the wire.

Bill may take some wire cutters with him on his next visit to remove the hazard.

We walked and dogs ran through big open meadows, stood above the Pack River and went to the spot where Gold Creek bisects the property.

One loan log allows walkers to cross the creek without getting wet feet.

Dogs had a great time racing back and forth across the log and standing precariously on thin ice to grab a drink of water.

As we were walking back to the parking lot, Bill's phone rang.

He spent about 15 minutes conducting business with one of his colleagues at Inland Forest Management, while I found a soft dry spot on a hillside, sat down, soaked up sun and watched dogs play in the tall grass.

Later, we moved on and a few minutes later, Annie called. So, we caught up with her life via the speaker phone.

I told later told Bill that if we'd keep losing things, we'd really get to know the countryside.

I was thinking back on a couple of years ago when I lost that belt buckle and we made several return trips to the Cowboy Trail from Gold Creek to Grouse Creek, only to have the buckle returned a month later by some bikers who picked it up about five minutes after I lost it.

These kinds of trips definitely prove that when something's lost, a lot can be gained.

We gained some good memories and fun images from yesterday's search, and we stayed connected.

Happy Friday.

Thursday This and That

2012-01-12T07:29:00.000-08:00

When your kitty cat could use some sunglasses in January, it's a good thing.

Fuzzy Wuzzy was living the epitome of a cat's life yesterday, snoozin' in the warmth of an intense sun shining from a brilliant blue sky.

Fuzzy Wuzzy's 13 this year, so if she could talk, she'd probably shout out a few praises of this winter right alongside her human friends.

The nice winter worked in a bad way for Bill yesterday.

Whenever he gets off work early, he likes to go for hikes.

Yesterday---second Wednesday in a row---he headed for the Albertson wildlife management area on Gold Creek Road.

Even on the Albertson property, Bill can't get away from work.

His boss Mike called him.

Bill fumbled with his gloves and managed to pull out his cell phone in time to answer.

After saying good bye, he stuffed the cell phone back in his pocket---or so he thought.

He discovered, however, after arriving home from his hike, that the cell phone was not in his pocket. He looked all over his pickup with no luck.

I even went outside to the truck and called his phone.

No answer.

I'm betting a coyote out there in Albertsonville probably heard it and yiped a few hellos.

But coyotes haven't been watching TV, so they don't know anything about "Can you hear me now?"

Today, after work, Bill will get to hike the Albertson property again, retracing his steps which did not follow any set trail.

I might go with him, carrying along my iphone and dialing his number every so often.

Had it not been sunshiny and nice, Bill would probably not be hiking that area, so we can blame it all on the good weather.

Can you hear me now????

I don't like to sound like a broken record too often, though I know it happens occasionally with ZAGS and weather talk, but I feel obligated once more to mention Miss Idaho.

Today is the last day of voting for the video contest determining the "People's Choice" finalist for Miss America.

Genevieve Nutting continues to rack up the votes, and I can say she's definitely in the running.

So, one last appeal to any and all out there who know potatoheads who may not have voted.

www.missamerica.org

Click on the above, then click on video contest.

Scroll to Miss Idaho.

Watch her video and vote.

Simple as that.

Tell friends, neighbors, all potatoheads and friends of potatoheads to vote today.

Voting closes at 11:59 p.m.

If you're on Facebook, you can also get to know a little more about Genevieve by visiting the FB Miss Idaho Organization wall where photos of her activities at the Miss America pageant continue to be posted.

Again, my daughter-in-law Debbie Love knows Genevieve, through their mutual involvement with the Girl Scouts of USA, and thinks the world of her.

Miss America pageant will air Saturday night at 9 p.m. on ABC. Ten finalists will be named and then the People's Choice finalist.

Thanks so much.

In the meantime, we're all mustering up our spirit and maybe saying a "Hail Mary" or two for tonight's ZAGS game against WCC powerhouse St. Mary's.

Come to think of it, maybe we'd better stick with the "Apostle's Creed" since "St. Mary's" probably has a monopoly on all "Hail Mary's."

Anyway, it's gonna be a hard-fought game so we need positive energy to see the ZAGS pull off a victory.

8 p.m. PST - ESPN2

Go ZAGS

Happy Thursday.

Winners, Losers and Twinkies

2012-01-11T08:04:00.000-08:00

It was a tough night for Bulldog basketball in Coeur d'Alene last evening, but JV Coach Love remained very gracious after his team lost to the Vikings JV's.

No stomping off the floor; instead, taking time, before heading for the locker room, to visit with his cousin Laura's family who came to watch the game.

Those triplets are getting their early experience at playing basketball and loving it.

So, the game provided a fun setting for family and for following some fast-action b-ball, while nibbling on popcorn.

The team rebounded from its rough beginning by scoring several baskets in the last two minutes, so the game ended on a positive note.

While watching the game, I did pull out my iphone a couple of times to see what was happening in the New Hampshire primary.

Anyone following yesterday's election pretty much knew that the second-place finisher would be the newsmaker.

I was interested to see if Mr. Huntsman could pull it off. Well, he came in third, so I'm guessing he figures that's reason to move on.

It's fun to listen to these candidates spin their results into making us think that earning .005 percent of the vote is a big victory.

Wish high-school basketball teams to take that approach.

Of course, the 24-hour news folks love the spin doctors cuz the drama of it all keeps their ratings up.

Well, when it comes to winners and losers, though, I have to talk about the most recent biggest losers of them all: the American people.

While all the hoopla was happening in New Hampshire, I did notice a disturbing headline spinning around under the radar.

Twinkies Will Soon Be No More.

Hostess Brands is going bankrupt---for a second time.

That means no Ho-Ho's. Not funny, I'll tell you!

Furthermore, there'll be no Hostess cupcake, looking like a chocolate porcupine with its 65 candles, when my sisters "bake" my birthday cake next year.

No donettes to dunk in our French roast coffee.

When I heard the news, I thought about Romain.

Romain was our French visitor for three summers back in the 1990s.

When Romain got let out of France and away from his mother's ultra-formal influence, he went bonkers with his new freedoms.

Romain watched TV until well into the morning hours.

Romain took food from the refrigerator any time he pleased.

Romain also learned Annie's method of picking all the pepperoni pieces and piling them up on the plate while methodically enjoying every morsal of his Schwan's personal pizzas.

Romain could have cared less whether he had Idaho grown French fries, but Romain did care immensely about his Twinkies.

If there were anything Romain would want to take back to France when he'd climb aboard that plane, it would be a box of Hostess Twinkies.

We knew how important the sweet treat was to Romain, so we stocked up for his visits and made sure his going-away gift included at least a dozen of those yellow cakes with creamy marshmallow filling.

Romain went on to become a respected cardiologist, now practicing in Luxembourg, but I'm betting he'd still bite in to a Twinkie with no sense of cardiac guilt.

I'm really concerned about what Romain will be thinking when he hears this news.

I'm also concerned about the state fairs and community events with food concessions across this country.

I have yet to bite into a deep-fried Hostess Twinkie, but I'm betting their absence at all upcoming annual events is gonna take a big bite out of concession-booth profits.

Talk about a problem for the economy.

It's a Twinkie trickle-down effect: Hostess goes bankrupt, food concessions which provide financial support for other community activities/student scholarships, etc. end up in the red.

Now, that's something for the "vulture capitalists" to consider as a new issue to dominate this year's elections. I bet some of them like Twinkies as much as our friend Romain.

Who cares about wars, jobs, birth control, education, terrorists, etc. when we have a Twinkie crisis on our hands?

Let's get our priorities straight, figure out a way to bail out Hostess Brands and help out our country where it really matters: our stomachs.

In the meantime, I'm headed to town to buy up all the boxes of Twinkies I can find, put 'em in cold storage and plan for some profit-making when they disappear from the shelves of grocery and convenience stores across this nation.

Now, that's true "vulture capitalism."

Yum! Yum!

Tuesday Twitterdeedum

2012-01-10T08:05:00.000-08:00

I think the ski reporter from Schweitzer called it "blue-bunny powder." He was ecstatic this morning while announcing a fresh six inches of snow overnight.

While finishing up my stall shoveling, I was ecstatic for the skiers and for the flat landers. That six inches of snow was rain down below. Probably not six inches, but enough to wash things down a bit.

And, now there's blue sky and white billowy clouds are floating over "the mountain." Maybe by the time I finish this morning's babble, I can snap a photo and show you one of the few ski resorts in the West, doing well this winter.

Once again, the stars lined up and gave folks here what they wanted.

I walked down another road in Selle yesterday and dealt with a little mud and a little ice. Still, West Shingle Mill Road provided me a nice walk on a springlike afternoon and some good visiting with two former students----Keith Johnson and Sandy Compton.

Keith farms, logs and boards horses. He was out working on a piece of heavy equipment when I walked by. We visited for nearly an hour.

Sandy writes. He's an author, columnist and outdoors lover. He was visiting a friend across the road from Keith's.

Sandy was a senior in my student-teaching English class back in 1969, while Keith came along as a sophomore in the '70s. I had good experiences with both.

I also spent part of the day writing. Finally, I've come up with a format for my alumni profiles. At first, I entertained the "bold" idea of putting together 90 profiles to be read every single morning on the SHS bulletin.

After sending out the surveys, though, I found that busy people are busy people. Responding to my survey was pretty low on some of their lists of priorities, so I scaled back to one profile per week.

Teachers will probably accepting of the weekly dose anyway.

It's been fun putting together the profiles AND very inspiring to track the directions these students have taken since high school.

So far, I've formatted profiles on two college professors, one weed-control specialist, a wedding photographer and a Hollywood box-office analyst.

I'm trying to provide a cross section of interests, ages and experiences in hopes of something for all the students sitting in those classroom desks, hopefully listening.

Wow, that image out the west window is nothing less than breath-taking at this very moment: fog below the mountain, snow-capped trees on the mountain and billowy clouds starting to envelop the snow-white runs.

Too early to take a picture, though. Maybe the mountain will turn pink like it did yesterday morning. Tough having to look at that view every morning, but someone's gotta do it.

Speaking of tough, it was tough to watch that national championship football game last night and even tougher watching the guy in the LSU cap on the couch go from intensity to nodding off during the last quarter.

Bill's Tigers lost their growl early on and never regained it. I saw one headline this morning that called the game a dud. I'm wondering if the hash, rehash will be more of a blame game or singing praises to the toughest defensive team ever.

Alabama was more than stingy last night, and LSU wrote a perfect chapter for the Idiots' Guide to Losing the Big Game.

Too bad, but we move on. So far, our ZAGS have hung in there. We hope they can continue their winning ways with their big game against St. Mary's Thursday night.

Willie has a big JV game tonight in Coeur d'Alene. He's gonna have some family fans there too, in the form of 9-year-old triplets from Plummer who love basketball. I'd like to go, but too many chores around here. Good luck, Bulldogs!

I hear CHEEEEEEZEburger, CHEEEEEEZeburger outside my open window. Love that sound because it always seems to announce spring, even in the dead of winter.

Guess that's enough muttering for today. I'd better go snap that picture of the mountain and post it.

Happy Tuesday.

Photo Run

2012-01-09T07:51:00.000-08:00

No gnawing "to do's." House relatively clean. Two alumni profiles formatted for a project I'm doing about Sandpoint High grads.

Animals happy. No visitors coming.

It was an afternoon without too many cares, and what had started as a gray morning with new snow on the ground turned out to feel like a spring afternoon.

I took the dogs for a short walk on a road paralleing the Union Pacific tracks off Forest Siding.

The place where I'd planned for a long walk was locked off with a gate: No Trespassing.

We went there for a change of scenery in my walking regimen, so I took the camera.

The sky was a dull gray, no sun and not much color, so that meant just walking back to the car and heading home.

Just wasn't enough, I thought, use this afternoon and go have fun shooting pictures.

Bill came home from church. I told him my plans and told him he could come along if he wanted. He said he'd stay home and get a few things done.

I knew he wanted to keep track of what was happening in the Denver Broncos game, and I told him he probably wouldn't be too thrilled to stop every time I wanted to take a picture.

The dogs once again accompanied me as I headed to town, with no particular goals, except snapping pictures, going down a few new roads, and enjoying the independence of designing my own itinerary.

Heading toward Priest River seemed logical since I've gone all the other directions a few times this winter.

Before taking the Dover highway out of town, I remembered a picture I've been wanting to take for some time: the original house where I spent my first three years of existence.

I've appreciated that house more and more, even though I have virtually no memories of living there. It's important to me because the other house where our family lived during our formative years and young adulthood went up in smoke several years ago.

The only memories left on our childhood farm might be the cherry tree in the front yard and the woods, full of pine, hemlock and cedar trees, behind the spot where the house, barn, sheds and corrals once housed a hard-working family and all their beloved cows, horses, dogs and cats.

So, every drive down Euclid makes me happy and nostalgic to see one vestige of my childhood still remaining intact---pretty much looking the same as it did back in 1950 when we left town for the country.

I also stopped off just down the block to snap some pictures of another structure which also served as a venue for molding me into the muttering, quirky hick I'm proud to be.

Lots of fond and some not-so-fond memories at the "old junior high" formerly known as Sandpoint High School and now known as the Sandpoint Events Center.

Then, it was on to the highway, westward bound.

I promised the dogs they could get out and walk, so, after turning off on a few new roads that went virtually nowhere interesting, I stopped at the Laclede store for coffee and chocolate---my afternoon caffeine fix.

Then, we turned off and headed for Riley Creek campground, which is closed for the winter.

The only ground cover during our walk around the recreation area came in ubiquitous deposits, especially in designated walking areas: green goose poop.

Not a pleasure, to say the least, for a springlike January stroll.

The dogs could have cared less, but I didn't like dodging green, mushy bullets.

So, we headed back to the car and continued on toward Priest River, where the sun was shining brilliantly and casting beautiful wide rays across the big farm fields along the East Settlement Road.

I turned off, figuring this was going to be prime picture-taking time and territory.

It was.

I've always loved the Kaniksu Stock Ranch barn, which overlooks the fields as it sits at the base of a mountain. Harold and Barbara Anselmo owned that place when I was growing up. Their son Tommy and I competed against each other in first-year 4-H fitting and showing.

Thankfully, that year I had not yet met Millie, the giant mother cow who dragged me around arenas, guaranteeing me bottom white ribbons.

Dorothy had no calf. She was just a yearling heifer, and she behaved well enough for me to get a blue ribbon, alongside Tommy and Jim McNall.

Harold Anselmo also owned the saddle I now ride on my Lily.

It's a heavy thing but a beautifully made roping saddle. I'm betting Harold got tired of lifting it, and that's probably the only reason he sold it.

Anyway, the Anselmos, in those days, ran quite a ranch.

The place is showing its age, but it's still beautiful. I especially loved the section of old picket fence along the hillside across from the barn.

By the time I finished taking pictures in the East Settlement area (and having a brief visit with Marylyn Cork who came driving by), it was 3:30 and time to head home.

I stopped once to snap one more photo along the highway and arrived home, pleased with the nice outing.

Bill had come back into the house from the woods, ready to watch the last quarter of the Broncos game. I finished my chores and joined him.

What a game! And, what an afternoon!

Good present-day memories combined with those from the past.

Doesn't get any better than that.

~~~~~
Happy Monday AND do vote in the www.missamerica.org video contest. Our Miss Idaho, Genevieve Nutting, is up there in the running.

Voting closes Jan. 12, and it's one vote per computer, laptop or cell phone.

Pass the word to all potatoheads and friends of potatoheads. It's looking like she has a chance to win the People's Choice finalist. Thanks.

A Bit Like January . . .

2012-01-08T08:03:00.000-08:00

I don't know quite how to handle the morning. There's a dusting of snow on the ground, the sky is gray. A slight and quiet sense of gloom is hanging in the air.

Could it be we're experiencing a real January sort of day?

We've been spoiled.

We've been downright giddy about our winter. In my case, I've even pushed aside some fleeting moments of guilt.

It's like we've been getting away with something---all this sunshine, bare ground for adding up those pedometer steps, ease in doing daily chores, safer winter driving, snow shoes sitting idly in a pile by the door.

I've loved every minute, as has just about everyone else I've met in town and around our rural neighborhood.

One person said calving on their ranch could be great this year. Another told me she's glad cuz she rolled her car on a patch of ice last February and feels much calmer driving to work this winter. Even the deer seem happy and quite content to hang around.

I did notice one bad side to the situation last night.

Mice are moving with ease. One found its way to a trap just inside our garage door---a big fat mouse---and four Border Collies, hanging out in the garage while we ate hamburgers and watched the ZAGS, did NOT even notice.

That's probably cuz doggies don't usually go looking for mice in January.

Anyway, the mouse met its demise. I opened the trap and flung it into the barnyard for the crows. Then, I reloaded, in case some more of those nasty creatures decide to come for a visit.

On this January morning, I'd say another aspect of typicality (iz there such a word, or will it be one of the favorites coined in 2012?) is my preoccupation with geraniums.

My Burpee catalog came almost as a gift---either the day before or the day after Christmas.

I had casually thumbed through it but had not gotten serious about ordering anything until the day I thought about geraniums.

Before I go to Pack River Cemetery for permanent rest, I want to figure out how to keep potatoes from going bad in the winter and an effective way to save geraniums for dormancy---not death.

I've tried many methods for both. This year our "depression spuds,"as Bill calls them, have developed a case of gray spots.

The other day while cutting open about half a dozen spuds, for French fries, I found gray blotches within. I cut around them and managed to glean enough leftovers for a batch of fries. Most of the taters went into the garbage.

So, I've got to try something new next year. Apparently, storage within boxes in the new-old motorhome inside the shop is not adequate.

Around the time of the potato discovery, I decided to purchase some potting soil and revive the geraniums I'd stuck head-first inside a double-strength brown bag in the shop.

Pulling one from the clump, I surmised that it didn't look good.

And, now, five days after planting the lone geranium in the new brand of organic potting soil from Co-Op, I have decided that my geranium dormancy worked about as well as the spud project.

Since I've only seen geraniums in pots and garden plots, I wasn't really sure if one could actually purchase geranium seeds.

So, I opened my Burpee catalog to find several different types of geranium seed. Spendy, but worth it if I can get a few dozen baby plants going.

Sent my order yesterday.

On this January day, I'm looking forward to having those seeds arrive in my mail box and carefully planting them in that new brand of organic soil.

I'll set them under the grow light upstairs here and hope for the best.

That's the kind of stuff we usually do in January; it mainly involves dreaming of a time when we can escape the cabin fever, get outside and actually work on projects with ease.

Yes, we've been spoiled with all the nice weather, and, yes, we need to be reminded occasionally that we DO live in North Idaho, and there's no such thing as a "free lunch" when it comes to the weather.

We'll pay somehow.

Before spring, I'm sure we'll endure a few more days of dreaming how it's gonna be when we can play in the dirt and plant those geraniums with a clear conscience.

For now, however, let the guilt trip continue.

The snow has stopped and the rest of the week is looking clear and nice. I'll take it.

Happy Sunday.

Saturday Slight

2012-01-07T07:44:00.000-08:00

Had some nice visitors this week, both human and winged.

Jim and Laurie are up here from Arizona for the week.

They're SHS Class of 1982 grads, and they come to Sandpoint several times a year.

I took them to some nice hiking spots, and we enjoyed "yum-yum" desserts and coffee at the Pack River General Store.

The afternoon spent with them was exilarating and especially fun, showing them around new recreational spots near their hometown.

~~~~

For Christmas, Irene, who's my daughter-in-law Debbie's mom from Boise, sent us a beautiful cranberry-filled ring to add to our bird-feeding smorgasboard outside the living room window.

Yesterday, Mr. and Mrs. Woodpecker came to have their breakfast, and I was able to snap a few photos while they grabbed bites.

There must be something about the pecking order of woodpecker couples, cuz we noticed that they rarely came to eat at the same time.

Nonetheless, we enjoyed watching them while visiting with Debbie.

~~~~

Speaking of eating meals, I guess I'll blame it on an almost-empty bottle of A-1 sauce.

Willie had a Philly cheesesteak sandwich last night at Slate's Restaurant and asked for A-1 sauce.

The server brought a bottle and announced it was the last one in the restaurant and that it had just a few drops left inside.

We joked about the situation but were not joking a second or two later when she informed us that Slate's is closing in a couple of weeks.

The business has been sold to the Bonners Ferry man who ran the restaurant out at Hope---iz it called Lou's? Not sure on the name cuz we've never made it there yet.

We were sad to learn that Steve Coffman has decided to hang it up.

Slate's has been a wonderful place to enjoy a meal, and we'll miss seeing Steve greeting us at the door.

We're hoping the new owners can rise to Steve's level of quality for putting out great food and wonderful service.

Best wishes, Steve. Slate's has been one of our family institutions, to say the least.

~~~~

It's ZAGS day again. Tonight they play Santa Clara in the McArthey Athletic Center, and we've learned from reports that they may have to put up a more intense fight than their first two league games.

Willie will head to Moscow today with the Sandpoint Bulldogs junior varsity.

His team split this week's games, losing the first in overtime but winning the second convincingly.

~~~~

Not a whole lot of other stuff happening this morning. It's quiet and gray, but I'm looking at yet another wonderful weather forecast for the week ahead.

So, the beat goes on for getting out and enjoying the semi-spring-like weather.

I think I'll brush and clip some horses today.

Happy Saturday to all.

Walkin' in Selle

2012-01-06T07:59:00.000-08:00

I don't know if there's a parallel, but we sure have enjoyed a lot of happy pills lately---sunny weather and the ZAGS keep on winning.

It doesn't get much better than that in January, especially here in North Idaho.

The great part is that Schweitzer Resort keeps on rolling in spite of the mild weather. I heard yesterday from the morning ski report that they're one of nine resorts in the country still touting good skiing, boarding, tubing, etc.

I also listened the other day as Janice Schoonover told some friends that their sleigh-ride numbers at their guest ranch have been more than impressive this year.

So, Mother Nature is distributing something for everyone around here, and we aren't complaining.

This is the happiest January/winter I've seen in years.

Two days ago, I showed former students and friends, visiting here from Arizona, some of our favorite hiking, riding, biking spots---Trout Creek, Ginter and Albertson wildlife management areas.

I also showed them one of Bill's geocaches after we walked a trail on bare ground and flanked by tall, dry grass.

Later, when we arrived at Western Pleasure Guest Ranch, whose owners went to school with my visitors, there was still snow enough for their sleighs.

So, it's a good life, and we're not taking one minute of it for granted.

I enjoyed a nice walk through some Selle Roads yesterday afternoon and snapped a few photos of farm houses, barns and general Selle scenery.

I'll leave you with the photos and remind you to tell friends about voting for Miss Idaho at www.missamerica.org. Scroll down, find her video and photo and vote. One vote per computer, so if cell phones and laptops, they work too.

You have until Jan. 12 to vote. Thanks.

Happy Friday to all.

Let's Support Miss Idaho's Job Promotion

2012-01-05T07:29:00.000-08:00

Serving as a Salvation Army bell ringer last month in Boise fulfilled one of Genevieve Nutting's bucket-list items. She has several goals, including vying for the title of Miss America Jan. 14 in Las Vegas.

Boise's Genevieve Nutting is taking off for Las Vegas today. She's hoping for a job promotion.

To prepare for this advancement, the 22-year-old Boise State University communications major spent this past Sunday, wearing a long gown, walking up and down the steps inside Idaho's State Capitol Building.

She figures the practice will be helpful since she has been known to trip and and fall on stairways while wearing a long dress.

"At first she was reluctant to practice there because of an incident she had at the Capitol," her mother Mari Beth Nutting recalls. "It took place the evening of the Governor's Inaugural Ball at the Capitol last year. Genevieve was wearing a beautiful black evening gown with a train that evening. She and her handsome date were descending the stairs of the Capitol to where Governor Otter and the First Lady were greeting people.

"Kind of like a Cinderella story," Mari Beth adds. "She is elegant, graceful and then . . . she slips and starts sliding down the stairs, grabbing the leg of the man ahead of here to stop herself. Everyone is horrified, but, in true Genevieve fashion, she stands up, brushes herself off, says something funny (can't remember what she said but I remember that it was quite funny) and continues on with the evening.

Genevieve also figures practice is important because what happens during her visit to Las Vegas will not stay there.

Millions of people will be watching.

Therefore, staying upright is important whether she's walking in an evening gown across a big stage or sitting at a piano playing George Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue."

On Jan. 14, Genevieve Nutting aka Miss Idaho 2011 will be competing in a long-established beauty pageant at Planet Hollywood in Las Vegas. The pageant will air on ABC beginning at 9 p.m. PST.

If she's successful at her job promotion, she'll wear the crown of Miss America and travel the country and the world during the next year.

"I am ready for the job," Genevieve says.

Her resume and comments from those who know her offer ample evidence that she's an exemplary candidate to reign as the 85th Miss America, the first ever from Idaho. Margaret Gorman from Washington, D.C. was crowned as the first Miss America in 1921.

*****

I learned about Genevieve recently in a conversation with my daughter-in-law Debbie Love, Girl Scout representative for North Idaho and Eastern Washington.

Before transferring to Spokane, Debbie worked with the Silver Sage Council of Girl Scouts of the USA in the Boise area.

During that time, she met Genevieve and worked closely with her as she completed requirements and earned the Gold Award, the highest, most coveted award in Girl Scouting.

The two have continued their friendship ever since. I can also tell you also that there's been a lot of texting going on between Debbie and Genevieve over the last few days as the latter has been preparing for her competition in Las Vegas.

Debbie was nice enough to arrange for me to interview our reigning Miss Idaho.

I must say that I consider this opportunity a great honor and truly appreciate the time she took from her busy, busy schedule to answer some questions.

"She's the real deal," Debbie says, "genuine, quiet but funny, talented and independent."

Also, thanks to Debbie's help, I've also connected with Genevieve's mother Mari Beth, an active Girl Scout volunteer in the Boise area.

Since her daughter won the Miss Idaho crown, Mary Beth has acted as her personal assistant of sorts and her No. 1 cheerleader.

"I know that I am her mom," Mari Beth told me in a recent email, "but I will tell you that Genevieve is an exceptional person.

"She is very compassionate, kind and caring. . . One of her favorite quotes is by Maya Angelou: I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.

"And having people walk away from her feeling good is what Genevieve strives for in her life," Mari Beth adds.

*****

Now for some responses straight from Genevieve, daughter of Todd and Mari Beth Nutting, older sister of Reba and proud owner of Sunni, her canine stress reliever.

Full Name: Genevieve Marie Nutting

Where all you've resided throughout your life? I was born in Spokane, Wash., and lived there till I was 3. We then moved to Morton Grove, Ill., and lived there till I was 6 years old. I attended kindergarten in Morton Grove. When I was 6, we moved to Boise and have lived here since then, so I consider Boise, Idaho, to be home.

(Education and areas of focus: I am a senior at Boise State University and am studying Communications with an emphasis in Journalism. Boise State doesn't have a Journalism specific major. In the Spring 2011 semester I was a sportswriter for the Boise State Arbiter.

Interests, activities, favorite genres of literature/music/food/movies, etc. Being from Idaho, I love the outdoors! Camping, snowboarding, running, bicycling, spending time in the outdoors.

This past year though one of my new activities is hot yoga. I feel that doing hot yoga has made me more limber and has toned me in preparation for the physical fitness part of competition.

The big bonus is that it has helped to calm me and keep me centered while preparing for Miss America, which is a very stressful undertaking.

Another activity that has eased the stress is playing with my Golden Retriever, Sunni. He is the love of my life!! I can’t help but smile when I am with him, he is such a happy dog!

I also love sushi. When I have time to get together with my friends, we typically go out for sushi.

My favorite movie of all time is “Breakfast at Tiffany's.” Audrey Hepburn is a role model of mine---not only because of her sense of style and her acting but also because of the work she did as a humanitarian.

Overall career goal at this point in your life: I had originally thought that I wanted to work as a writer for a women's fitness magazine, but this year I have been considering other careers.

I have enjoyed the public speaking that I have been able to do as Miss Idaho, and I was also able to see Katie Couric and Robin Roberts speak at the Girl Scout National Conference in Texas this past November.

My experiences speaking and then hearing these two women speak at the conferences and the differences they have made as broadcast journalists have inspired me to consider being a broadcast journalist also.

Who and what have most influenced you in life and why/how? My family and friends have been the most influential in my life. My parents have encouraged me to be adventurous and to truly live life to its fullest.

They have also kept me grounded and remind me to always be true to myself.
I have always been surrounded by great role models and mentors (like Debbie [Love] :)) who have also shown me that I can do anything I can set my mind to do. They have inspired me to follow my dreams.

Why did you run for Miss Idaho? I first competed as a teen in the Miss Idaho Outstanding Teen pageant. I had never done a pageant before but was approached by the Miss Idaho director after she had heard me play piano at a recital.

The teen program had had a contestant drop out at the last minute, and they needed someone to take her place. My mom always encouraged me to try new things so I thought I would give it a try. To my surprise, I won and competed in the Miss America Outstanding Teen Pageant in Orlando, Florida.

I continued to compete as an adult in the Miss Idaho Pageant because I was inspired by my fellow contestants. They are all women who are intelligent, driven and involved in their communities.

Being with them inspires me to be my very best at all times and in all situations.

Do you have to put your other activities aside while reigning as Miss Idaho, or can you do both? Miss Idaho leads a very busy year so I am not able to attend school for the entire year. I was, however, able to work at my part-time job at White House Black Market.

They have been so great at working around my busy schedule. My colleagues there have been very supportive while I have been preparing to compete at Miss America.

What are your duties for the year? The first six months I have been busy preparing for Miss America as well as traveling around the state and working with various organizations.

For example, I have traveled to Pocatello to give a "Free to be Me" self-esteem workshop to a Girl Scout troop that is a part of the "Girl Scout Beyond Bars" program at the Pocatello Women's Correctional Facility.

In Idaho Falls, I spent time with Special Olympics athletes that I had met at the state Summer Special Olympics. I spoke at the state Soroptimist club meeting and then helped them at the Garden City Boys and Girls Club Christmas party.

I was a bell ringer for the Salvation Army at Christmas, attended the coin toss at the Famous Idaho Potato Bowl and performed at the Festival of Trees. I typically have 2-3 appearances on an average each week. My duties as Miss Idaho are varied, and I have enjoyed every moment as Miss Idaho.

So far, what has been most satisfying about being chosen to represent our state? The People! I love interacting with the wide variety of people I have met as Miss Idaho. They have all had a huge impact on me and have brought me so much joy.
Just when the stresses of preparing for Miss America are wearing me down, I'm rejuvenated by the people that I meet that week at an appearance.

What's most important to you in this whole wide world and why? Without a doubt, my family and friends. This past year has been a reminder to me as to how much I love them and how important they are to me.

Give me a general summary of what's on your mind and your calendar these days and what's ahead for you with the Miss America pageant? I would love to have a job promotion and be promoted to the role of Miss America.

What an amazing year it would be to travel the country as Miss America, promoting my platform "Building the 3 C's Through Girl Scouts - Courage, Character, and Confidence" and to meet even more people! I am ready for the job!

I do know that there are other incredible state titleholders who want the same dream and who have worked equally hard. So if I don't win Miss America, I will be thrilled to come back and continue my year, traveling around our beautiful state, as Miss Idaho 2011.

Anything you care to add? This year the Miss America Organization is having a "People's Choice" contestant in the Top 15.[See video below]

This contestant will be decided by the highest number of votes in an online contestant.

People have till Jan. 12 to vote.
I would like to ask people to consider voting for me and to spread the word to vote Idaho in the Top 15 at Miss America. Idaho hasn't been in the Top 15 in 40 years.

Go to www.missamerica.org. From there they will be directed on how to vote for their favorite contestant.

Special Note: You can learn more about Genevieve and her day-to-day activities by following her blog and her Facebook page at the following links:

http://www.genevievenutting.blogspot.com/

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Genevieve-Nutting-Miss-Idaho-2011/193285070724101

Now enjoy this video, vote and tell all your friends to do the same. Thanks so much.

Good Luck, Genevieve!

Can't wait to have the next Miss America come and sign the Lodgepole Log here at the Lovestead!

Wednesday Walk the Talk

2012-01-04T07:43:00.000-08:00

My pedometer fell on the floor yesterday, and the battery popped out. That was after I'd already taken about 3,000 steps.

When the battery popped out, the pedometer flipped back to square one---0.

At first, I just laid it on the bathroom counter, somewhat disgusted, and walked off.

Within seconds, however, I could sense a mild feeling of disappointment taking over my mind.

After all, I had just taken ten steps---ten uncounted, unrecorded steps.

For me, techno-addiction once more takes over common sense.

I tried to remain strong, going about my usual business, but the gnawing thought of taking all those unrecorded steps eventually drove me right back to the bathroom to get that pedometer working again.
Probably a couple of hundred steps had already gone unrecorded during the pedometer lapse.

I picked up the pedometer, took it to the kitchen, and ten more unrecorded steps later, my life was back to the new norm, a norm established when I first purchased the pedometer before Christmas.

Having the pedometer back in action meant working hard all day to walk and walk and walk some more.

I gave myself those 3,000 steps taken before pedometer breakdown. Even then, I kept wondering if I might have really taken 3,123 steps.

Fortunately, I could let the possible loss of recorded steps go.

This walking to satisfy a machine has been a good thing, albeit a little crazy.

It bothered me the day before yesterday when Bill came home and said he'd already recorded around 15,000 steps on his pedometer while I was at a mere 6,000.

He had taken the car into the shop for maintenance, so while waiting he walked from Rokstad Ford to Home Depot and back. That walk will rack up a lot of steps, I'll tell you.

His announcement signaled a lot more work for me that day, but I caught up, almost, ending my day with 15,372.

Football games on TV for Bill to watch as a couch potato helped out in that challenge.

It's a little insane to be ruled by a piece of technology.

I grant that, but I must also report that my moods have been much better since I started walking the talk.

My body must be happy with all the activity. Plus, I make myself get outside to breathe fresh air a lot more than usual for January.

Mother Nature, of course, has helped this along, allowing us to walk on bare ground rather than to trudge through deep snow.

At night, while trying to sleep, I have noticed a few more aches and pains in my knees, but during the day, the knees shut up and let me take off to enjoy the next brisk stroll down the road or through the fields with the dogs.

Today some guests from Arizona will join me at one of the Fish and Game areas in the Pack River area.

I'm figuring on not having to check the pedometer too often on this day cuz the steps will mount up without much extra effort.

And, I figure my body will continue to benefit from my obsession with the pedometer.

Besides, having to walk keeps me from spending too much time sitting in front of the computer.

So, in my case, one addiction trumps another and that is good.

Oh, by the way, yesterday's total: 14,132.

Happy Wednesday.

Schweitzer Valley Dwellers Shine

2012-01-03T07:46:00.000-08:00

While I was growing up, the 4-H program played a major role in my life. The skills, especially those dealing with organizing, leadership, public speaking and keeping records, provided a fantastic foundation for my teaching career.

I can't say so much about my success with some of the projects. Sewing---white ribbons three years straight. No more years after that cuz my mother promised me I could quit if I'd just finish those flannel pajamas with their stovepipe legs and flat-felt seams.

She held the sewing project over my head, insisting I could not take horse or beef unless I also took sewing. She knew how much I loved my animals and the livestock projects so she dangled an effective carrot.

I finished three years of sewing and three years of modeling my sewing projects---all white ribbons there,too, and said "good bye" to sewing forever---except for one time in my adult life when Carol Pietsch, then a home ec teacher at Sandpoint High, guided me through making a dress for a prom. It actually turned out wearable.

Though I loved livestock, my record in beef showing wasn't so good either. Three or four straight years of earning the bottom white in fitting and showing----all because "the rules" said we could not show bull calves in fitting and showing.

My Millie cow only knew how to produce bull calves. So, I always had to show her, and she always had to show everyone else what a fool she could make of me as she dragged me around the arena while bawling for her baby bull calf back at the barn.

Yup, 4-H had its good times and bad, but I swore by it and still do as a phenomenal program for kids to learn basics about achieving goals, about working with others and developing a sense of leadership.

I went on to become a 4-H leader, serving for several years in the horse project, junior leadership and photography. My sisters did the same, and my mother led 4-H forever, it seemed.

During all those formative years, kids from our general area were members of the Mountain View Livestock Club, the Mountain View ABC's (that was home ec), the Mountain View Dudes, and, finally, the Schweitzer Valley Dwellers.

I'm pretty sure the latter club enjoyed the longest run. Somewhere around the community someone has the scrapbooks for the Schweitzer Valley Dwellers.

Among those pages, I'm betting there are pictures of Chris Pietsch and Cathy King. Both participated in livestock 4-H. Chris took photography with help from his dad Gary and Cathy also took veterinary science with help from my sisters and Dr. Don McCormick.

All this is leading to the fact that today--this very day--both Cathy and Chris have distinguished themselves in phenomenal ways, and all of us who ever had anything to do with the Schweitzer Valley Dwellers 4-H Club have reason to be shouting out our pride.

First, let me talk about Chris. He's an award-winning photographer working for a newspaper in Eugene, Oregon. For the past week or so, he's been posting photos and comments on Facebook about his most recent photographic gig.

Chris went to Los Angeles with the Oregon Ducks football team. In case you haven't heard, and I'm sure my friend Janet has told a person or two, the DUCKS WON the Rose Bowl yesterday. What a game!

Well, Chris probably has a bazillion shots of the week-long festivities leading up to the game. He even shot a video of the press conference last week featuring an Oregon lineman who helped a player's father stop choking at a restaurant.

This morning, Chris has posted the best of his many shots taken during yesterday's Rose Bowl game. If all works out right, you can find his show at http://tinyurl.com/2012-rose-bowl

Hats off to you, Chris. We, and anyone associated with 4-H and the Schweitzer Valley Dwellers, are proud of you.

Now for Cathy. She's featured in this morning's Spokesman-Review. Her story can be found at http://www.spokesman.com/stories/2012/jan/03/serving-saving-animals/

While practicing in Deer Park, Wash., Cathy, now a veterinarian herself, created an organization called World Vets.

Following the general principles of Doctors without Borders, Cathy and her team of volunteers go into countries around the world and provide their services, including spaying and neutering.

As the story states, they have served 36 countries in the world thus far. A few years ago, Cathy, now living in North Dakota, extended an open invitation for me to accompany her and her group sometime to cover their activities.

So far, that has not worked out, but I still like to keep track of what she's up to, and I can tell you she follows a rigorous schedule setting up several trips a year.

Both Chris and Cathy have come a "long ways baby" from the time when their career seeds were planted as 4-H members in the Schweitzer Valley Dwellers.

Their achievements not only elicit great pride within those of us who "knew them when" but also clearly demonstrate what can happen when young people dream big and follow the steps to capture those dreams---even the baby steps.

Congrats to both and hats off to the 4-H program for influencing people like Chris and Cathy and millions of others who've said the pledge to head, hands, health and heart.

DO IT RIGHT

2012-01-02T08:05:00.000-08:00

"The Duke" would tell you it's a close crop on this photo.

His constructive criticism would deal more with photographic composition than the fact that part of "HIS" face was cut out.

Bob Hamilton was a modest, private man but so proud and for so many reasons.

This shot was snapped by a server at the Blue Moon Cafe a few years back when Cindy Wooden came to town.

Bob had to be busting his buttons during lunch on that summer day as two, among his many students with a PASSION for journalism, shared experiences.

Cindy, a former assistant editor of the Sandpoint High School Cedar Post, has served as Vatican correspondent for the Catholic News Service for more than 20 years. She's traveled with the Popes on the Papal jets when they've visited countries round the world.

Bob, his lovely wife Ruth and his family have been on my mind and in my prayers for the past couple of weeks.

Since his passing this past Friday, I've continued to search for the right words to express what this educator, journalist, basketball coach, sports statistician, author, Forest Service aerial fire observer and beloved family man meant to my life.

Bob knew.

I told him several times and even wrote about his influence in my last book.

I seriously doubt there would have been a last book or even a first book if it hadn't been for Bob's influence and guidance at a crucial time in my life.

Call it raw material or a rough cut---Bob saw something in this awkward 16-year-old looking for a niche in life. He taught me, he guided me, he encouraged me AND allowed me to shine.

He did the same for hundreds of other students so many times in his teaching career at Sandpoint High School.

On this morning, I'm betting there's are countless former Cedar Posters who could tell similar stories on Bob.

He taught us the basics of journalism and to "DO IT RIGHT."

I remember seeing those three bold-faced big words still posted on the Cedar Post light table when I began advising the newspaper after Bob's retirement.

That sign stayed there throughout my tenure, and Cedar Posters knew it was the cardinal rule for anyone serving on the paper---be they photographers, writers, graphics specialists, ad staffers, etc.

The rules of good journalism are pretty basic and brief.

The job of instilling the importance of these rules is challenging at times when working with high school students.

Bob Hamilton had the fire in the belly and a special knack for making believers out of his students----that journalists provide important roles in our society and that we must work to high standards at all times, regardless of how insignificant the assignment may seem.

Bob Hamilton also made believers out of his student journalists---believers in themselves.

In my case, I walked into his class with a pretty low self esteem, having failed miserably at other interests requiring some God-given talent, i.e., music, drawing, sewing.

I happily discovered under Bob's tutelage and constant encouragement that God may have dished out a little portion of talent for using the written word.

And, when he mentioned one of those traits necessary for good reporters called "a nose for news," I knew there was hope for this curious soul who always liked knowing what was going on in the world and especially knowing it first so I could tell somebody.

As a student of Bob Hamilton's, I enjoyed a significant spike in my self esteem, especially the day he pulled me aside in the hallway and asked if I'd like to serve as editor of the Cedar Post.

That's a day and a moment I'll never forget.

As Cedar Post adviser, I modeled my mentor's style in selecting Cedar Post editors because I knew just how good that moment felt.

Bob treated his staff like professionals, not snotty-nosed high school students.

He expected professionalism from us any time we represented the newspaper in our production, our travels around the community and with our peers.

For the most part, we honored his wishes.

Occasionally, however, he did utter a quote I later found myself using while advising the paper: when they're seniors, their heads turn to jello.

Well, most Cedar Posters probably went through their jello phase and lived to tell about it.

Nonetheless, a quick glimpse at their professional achievements after their respective stints with this phenomenal mentor/coach/teacher would quickly demonstrate why Bob was so loved, admired and respected as an educator.

Whether they became journalists, judges, lawyers, business owners, military officers, photographers, etc., virtually any student of Bob's will speak of their journalism teacher with gratitude and reverence.

His legacy is vast and everlasting.

I know that my son, William Love, as adviser of the Cedar Post, feels the responsibility to instill the same principles of sniffing out stories and approaching them with fairness, accuracy, professionalism and solid reporting that Bob taught his students decades ago.

A stellar educator, mentor, colleague and friend has left us.

I'll miss you, Bob, but will keep your memory alive through my day-to-day writing and by always reminding myself to "DO IT RIGHT."

~~~~RIP Bob Hamilton~~~~

A Fun Adieu . . . Happy New Year to You!

2012-01-01T07:56:00.000-08:00

It was an all-day party, as far as I'm concerned.

We feasted on worn-out Christmas cookies, ice cream birthday cake, enchiladas, pizza, and almond M & M's, along with a full plate of peaceful, quiet splendor in the Kootenai Valley.

Doggies had a good day running up and down hills, checking on their peeps and sniffing countless scent spots.

Peeps carried cameras and guns.

Shooting netted at least 500 images---no pheasants.

We never really connected with Bill, although we could see his bright-orange garb nearly a mile away as he tried to flush out a rooster pheasant. Only hens were making appearances yesterday.

As for my sisters and me, we moved slowly along the dike at the north end of the Nature Conservancy, simply taking in the moments and taking pictures of all angles, lighting, and subjects.

The subjects, including dogs, were pretty cooperative. Those mountains to the east put on some great shows as the sun lit 'em up to showcase their snowcaps and cool blues.

The river did okay too, providing us continuing colorful reflections of dormant cottonwoods and leafless bushes.

We still haven't figured out why that huge, bushy spruce sits out there all by itself alongside the dike.

We were on a schedule yesterday and sadly left the vast preserve, hurrying back to Sandpoint to feed animals, grab goodies and pick up our mother for the ZAGS game.

My sister Barbara couldn't have asked for a better birthday with her bounty of gorgeous pictures and that phenomenal victory which the ZAGS posted over Xavier.

Lots of whoopin' and hollerin' every time the ball swished through the basket---on the ZAGS side that is.

We sang "Happy Birthday" to Barbara and enjoyed pieces of her cookies and creme ice cream cake.

Each of our groups took home framed ZAGS patches, compliments of Debbie.

Mother enjoyed a great day. We took her home, came home ourselves and, in this household did no whoopin' and hollerin' at midnight.

We were sound asleep and content that we'd ushered out 2011 in style!

Now it's a new day and a new year, and all I've got to say this morning is "Bring it on!"

Happy New Year. Enjoy the pictures.

Saturday Slight

2011-12-31T07:41:00.000-08:00

Who woulda thunk it??? Bill just announced that he'll probably go pheasant hunting today.

"It's bare ground, it's nice and it's the last day of the season," he said while looking out the window at the blue sky and grabbing the pile of newspapers.

"Where did you see those pheasants?" he then asked, ". . . whereabouts on the trail?"

I told him the approximate location where the dogs had scared up two on my way down the trail and a rooster on my way back."

That was a couple of weeks ago.

"If yer asking for GPS coordinates, I'm not gonna give them to you," I said, with a teasing tone. "I'm sure those pheasants aren't sitting there waiting for you."

Still, who woulda thunk pheasant hunting in North Idaho on the last day of the year?

Amazing!

Had to use that word because it made the thumbs-down list of overused words for 2011. Still, I can't think of a more fitting way to express the shock that we've been able to do so much more fun stuff outside during this month of December.

Over the past several days, I've been enjoying pleasant walks through the forest here at the Lovestead.

Pine-needle blankets beneath the trees are really cushiony this time of year. I've discovered that wonderful sensation while taking steps through areas seldom visited during the winter, except for an occasional outing on snow shoes.

Usually, those pine needles are buried deep beneath a long-lasting, thick blanket of snow.

On these walks, I've discovered that other creatures have been enjoying those brown needle beds too.

Many deposits of deep green droppings indicate regular visits to these areas by deer who've chosen to stick around.

Usually, we don't see a deer around here from late November until sometime in the spring.

No need for them to leave this year cuz conditions are pretty comfy for them.

Their numbers are down from what we usually see in the summer time, and I suspect that they, like humans, have their population of snow birds who head to Sunnyside.

Anyway on this last day of December, my window up here is open and I can hear the crows cawing outside.

We appreciate the gift of being able to be outside and to do more than plow, shovel or go snow shoeing occasionally.

Later today we'll be celebrating my sister's birthday and hoping the ZAGS can go into Cincinnati and come back with a victory over Xavier.

The paper says Xavier's back in full force tonight after several players were suspended because of that well-publicized ugly brawl with Cincinnati a few weeks ago.

I'm sure those players will be on best behavior during their re-entry game tonight, but I'm also sure Gonzaga's got a challenge on its hands.

Coach Mark Few pointed out that Xavier (9-3) was undefeated before the brawl and their being at full strength tonight will mean a tough game for the ZAGS.

Still, the ZAGS are looking better all the time, so I'm thinking they may find a way to win this one. Go ZAGS.

Happy Saturday to all. Stay safe and enjoy welcoming in the new year as we say good bye to 2011 on this beautiful Saturday.

Friday Stuff

2011-12-30T08:04:00.000-08:00

I used the term "bucket list" on Facebook this morning while sharing a Groundspeak video Annie posted about the past year in geocaching.

Annie is the "Voice of the Hamsters" at Groundspeak, so if you view the video, do listen at the beginning.

She's enjoying her hamster role immensely, even providing us some exclusive samples of her chirping talents one evening this week.

While sharing this video site, I suggested that Facebook friends add geocaching to their 2012 bucket list.

That got me to thinking about my own bucket list.

Hard to fill it quite like I did in 2011, with that Ireland trip and all, but I'll make an effort. This past year definitely stood out as for the memory books for so many good reasons.

Now, it's time to look forward and hope for the trend to continue.

Of course, knowing that the "Medicare" birthday is coming up reminds me that decision-making will play a role.

I think when the time comes in June, I'll just post a bunch of "Plan" choices up on the dart board here in my office and let the dart decide---if the dart hits the board, that is.

Since it's the "Medicare" birthday year, with luck, I'll also reach the point of no longer pondering the thoughts expressed in that country tune "When I'm 65."

I know one thing: I'll not take for granted one moment from that point on because life with good health will continually become more precious.

I told Annie the other day that sometime I'd like to load up the two Border Collies and take off by myself for a road trip. Maybe this will be the year to do it. Having those dogs with me would add a lot of bravery to my cowardly ways.

Plus, it would be nice to see if I could pull a trip like that off, like I used to do in my 20s.

The route could be determined by where good friends from the good ol days (those before 65) happen to live. Of course, maybe they won't be home cuz they're on the road doing precisely the same thing I am.

My longtime friend Susie pulled off a nice bucket-list project this past summer, taking off with her husband and a friend into the back hills of Colorado via horseback, staying for a week.

I think that would be nice, but I'd need more than Border Collies to do that cuz they may not protect me from all the mean bears at night. Plus, the dogs don't like going with the horses. Have to work on that idea.

I keep telling Bill this is the age when we've gotta do these things--especially the traveling part---cuz we never know when life can change dramatically.

For now, I'll just keep the 2012 adventure bucket cleaned out but ready for ideas. I'm sure brainstorms will unfold as the days roll by.

There's no doubt there will be geocaching, hiking, picture-taking, gardening, horseback riding, visiting with friends and family and taking off on down roads untraveled.

Somehow, I don't really think a "plan" is really all that necessary----instead, we must simply seize the opportunities as they come along.

One thing is for sure---when I'm 65, I'll have that Medicare plan all figured out AND hoping I don't need to use it for a long, long time.

Happy Friday.

Another Geocaching Adventure

2011-12-29T07:39:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, when high winds put the kaibosh on Annie heading to Schweitzer for a day of snowboarding, Plan B went into effect.

Annie said I could go along with her and the doggies on a geocaching mission.

This time she was using strictly her cell phone, so geocaching was limited to stashes within cell phone range.

Turned out geocaching was just one dimension of yesterday's adventure. That's the beauty of the sport. It comes with so much more in the good-memories department.

In yesterday's case, a visit to the Bread Basket Bakery, Annie's first, served as nourishment for the trip to Montana.

Actually, I just ate my chips and drank my coffee on our way east from Three Mile Junction north of Bonners Ferry while Annie held on to her sandwich for later enjoyment.

A short window of cell phone coverage allowed Annie to figure out the coordinates for a cache near the Moyie River Bridge.

Then, it was on to the always-magnificent Kootenai River Falls. Annie said it had been several years since her visit to the falls, so yesterday's outing was truly a treat.

She has a new fish-eye lens on her cell phone, given to her by Willie and Debbie, so she was anxious to try it out on the swinging bridge over the river.

The results can be found on her "Mia Wallace" Facebook page. Pretty neat photo.

She also tracked down a cache near the falls, adding to her Montana discoveries.

By the time we returned to the car, a substantial rain shower had started. The drip drops stayed with us all the way down the Bull Lake highway, hiding some of the most majestic of Cabinet Mountain beauty.

Still, it was a great trip, topped off by a stop at Wood's Meats, where Annie picked up a supply of German sausage and jerky to take back to Seattle.

It's been great fun these past few days having Annie home. She'll return this evening to continue her always-action filled schedule. I'm hearing about tag football on New Year's Day.

Bill will take Annie to the airport. Then, he, Willie and Debbie will attend a WSU-Oregon basketball game. Should be a good one for the Cougs PAC-12 opener.

ZAGS did themselves proud last night in their league opener, winning by almost 40 points.

Looks like a beautiful day coming up today after a blustery night of wind and rain.

Happy Thursday!
And, a special note to my classmate George. Check out my website guestbook. There's a note from our classmate and Moscow's birder extraordinnaire, Terry Gray, detailing another note from Delar Messmore. www.mariannelove.com

If all else fails, get the Yaks.

2011-12-28T07:36:00.000-08:00

I did my usual this morning. I do my usual quite often---fail to follow rules of common sense or fail to read directions (yeah, I saw that one about your new mixer, Cis---by the way, the young Loves have one like that too).

Yes, reading the manual comes only after many failures. I've often wondered how much time would be saved if I'd read directions or learn about a product by studying its manual.

In this morning's case, I bypassed doing the smart thing before going to the barn. Slipped and slid a couple of times and thought about those Yaks hanging on a door knob back in the garage. Still, I left them behind and picked out a route in the darkness to the barn.

Old Lady Still Standing----good reality show title and the results of some lucky navigating through water, bare ground and bone-breaking ice.

The barnyard wasn't too bad cuz nobody's plowed or shoveled it. Only where humans dared tread yesterday is there bone breaking ice today.

So, I did okay with two big armloads of hay, scattering them about on the ground about halfway out into the big corral where the horses stay in the winter.

It was looking like a pretty pleasant morning with balmy temps and easy cleaning in the stalls. Heather and Lily were even nice enough to leave some of their hay, allowing me to bypass shavings for their bedding tonight.

After chores, I headed toward the paperbox, a trip which I knew would present some challenges. The balmy weather is deceiving today, especially while walking in areas where I plowed or shoveled three-four inches of snow yesterday.

A sea of wet ice with only occasional bare spots greeted me in the darkness as I walked toward the road. A car went by----very slowly.

Upon reaching the road, I could see light reflecting of the surface both to the north and the south. Solid ice lay between me and the paperbox.

"I can do this," I thought, "just very carefully."

Let me tell you that this morning's ice allows NO room for error.

Taking a mini step forward, I slipped and headed downward toward the ice mass, catching myself in time to save the bruised-up knee from last week's clumsy fall on oneven ground is just now turning to normal skin color again.

With a wet knee and wet hands, I gave in.

"Get smart," I thought. "Get back there and put on those Yaks." Annie gave them to me a couple of years ago for Christmas, and they have been literal lifesavers many times, I'm sure.

So, I walked in the wet snow alongside the driveway, turned into the garage, grabbed the Yaks, sat down on an ice chest, and with dogs trying to lick my face, stretched the Yaks enough to fit over my boots.

Why is it that we think we're above directions or common sense? Seems like when we get to this age, we'd know better.

I don't. Probably never will.

So, I wasted some time this morning, going back and starting all over on something I should have done when I first left the garage.

This story netted two pluses. I walked more steps than usual for my pedometer, and, thanks to the Yaks, I can continue walking a lot more steps, even on bone-breaking ice.

Life continues to be filled with lessons for those of us who think we know better.

Happy Wednesday.

GO ZAGS!

Tuesday Twitterdeedumbsnow

2011-12-27T07:59:00.000-08:00

I didn’t mind this morning’s dump of Christmas-card snow until my Internet went off.

Shoveling a pathway to the barn was fairly easy. The snow stopped falling by the time I finished the morning chores.

Looked like it was just gonna be a pretty snow---one which we need to enjoy while it's here.

The weather folks are telling us to get ready for two days of rain, so it’s possible our morning blanket will be gone in no time.

Anyway, when you’re wearing your comfortable new slippers, when you fix up a fresh cup of latte, sit down at the computer, ready to write--------and the Internet’s off----disorder and cussing rule the moment.

Go put on the boots, dig into the snow looking for that dead mop top wrapped with a bath towel and climb the wet ladder to clean off the satellite dish.

The tech guy, while installing our HD dish the other day, implied that spraying WD-40 or PAM on the dish is purely myth.

I didn’t want to argue with him, knowing that a friend who lives out there in bigger snow country than we do, swears by the WD-40.

As of yet, I've not applied any WD-40, so I went out, got wet while cleaning off the dish, came back in and found the Internet still doesn’t work.

Another trip may be necessary before I post on the blog this morning.

Anyway, it’s Tuesday Twitterdeeday, so just tidbits today.

Annie just got up; she's watching a movie. Bill left for work about 15 minutes ago.

Willie, Debbie and the grandpups probably hit the hay in the wee hours this morning. They were in the Tri-Cities around 8 so they still had quite a drive ahead of them.

Willie will be crawling out soon to drive into town for basketball practice. Later, today we’ll enjoy their extended Christmas as they open presents.

And, tonight we’ll probably do Second Avenue Pizza for that all-important “family bonding” and another phenomenal eating experience----as if we needed that this time of year.

I'll be glad when people quit showing up for visits so I can put the cookie plates away. They're much too tempting during those walks through the kitchen.

As a result, I'm checking my pedometer more than ever. Mine doesn't tell how many calories I burn, just how many steps I'm taking.

The nice thing about the pedometer is that it keeps us from lying to ourselves. The numbers tell the story when we've bit slugging on the couch too much.

A pedometer serves as a conscience of sorts---reminding us to get off that couch and to start moving.

Unfortunately, though, it has no GPS and does not instruct me on what direction to go, so I can't break the routine of walking past the island filled with cookies.

You'd think pedometers would get smarter, if we can have smart phones that fart 16 different styles for us!

Yup, that app is now on my new phone, and, yup, we've had some good laughs.

I'm smiling. The Internet works. That means I'm gonna call it a day and post this bunch of babble.

Then, I'll probably get up and do a bunch of walking so I can earn a cookie.

Happy Tuesday.

Christmas Day Miscellany

2011-12-26T07:54:00.000-08:00

It's the day after the big day, and we're lazin' out this morning.

Except for Bill, that is.

He's gone back to work.

When you're working for a forestry-related company, there's lots of paperwork to be completed before the end of the year.

So, the folks down there at IFM are keeping their noses to the grindstone this week.

Annie's watching a movie, and she'll be traveling north a little later to visit a friend.

Willie will be heading north from Boise about noon.

When you're a high school basketball coach, there's practice through the rest of the vacation.

So, he'll be back at the SHS gym with his junior varsity players tomorrow morning.

Christmas Day here at the Lovestead began brilliantly, as you can see from the photo above.

We enjoyed a morning of sunshine, followed by a cloudy afternoon and a blustery evening.

We enjoyed opening presents, snacking, watching TV, walking and dining with the rest of the family at Colburn.

It was a great day.

So, with a lazy brain this morning, I'll leave you with just a few photos from yesterday.

Margaret, those sweater ornaments are beautiful. Thanks to you from the three of us.

Happy Monday to all.

From Our Home to Yours

2011-12-25T07:16:00.000-08:00

Our Christmas Letter

2011-12-24T07:38:00.000-08:00

Since writing the annual Christmas letter to family and friends a couple of weeks ago, I've listened to many versions of lovely Christmas music, AND this morning we have a new coating of snow just in time for Christmas.

As I write, Annie is probably at Sea-Tac waiting for her flight home. Willie, Debbie and the grandpuppies are in Boise with Debbie's family.

We wish the Loves of Boise and their family down in South Idaho a most wonderful Christmas.

Events of the Christmas celebration have been unfolding with yesterday's fun visits with cookie-plate recipients.

More plates go with Bill this morning on his assignments.

The fabulous tenors are filling the air with magnificent and nostalgic sounds associated with the Christmas story.

The celebration here in beautiful Selle continues.

I leave you with our letter below and the best of wishes for your annual traditions wherever in the world you happen to be.

Merry Christmas.

Dear Family and Friends,

I’m attempting this letter without the aid of soft Christmas music in the background and snowflakes falling outside the window. Usually, I cheat and rely on both to stimulate nostalgic thoughts of the season and memories from the past year. We have had snowflakes falling, but Mother Nature is giving us a nice pre-Christmas break from the snow. I haven’t heard too much complaining. As for the Christmas music, I have yet to pop in a CD for this year’s celebration. Still, it’s easy to feel the spirit of the season and to think back on a wonderful year.

In characterizing the overall impressions of 2011, I need just one word: fun. Whether they were firsthand experiences or living vicariously through family members, this year’s memories were nothing less than phenomenal. For Annie and me, a trip to Ireland; need I say more? There’s not enough printer ink to capture all those thoughts and images. For Annie, Bill and me, a weekend spent in Seattle, taking in a Mariners baseball game one night, a hike the next day and a Sounders soccer match.

For Bill, a retirement party; folks from throughout the region celebrated his 33 years of service to the Idaho Department of Lands. By the way, since that party Sept. 30, Bill has worked 3-5 days a week for another local forestry company. Nonetheless, we have managed to squeeze in a few geocaching adventures and some hikes.

Attending basketball games at Sandpoint High School where Willie coaches the junior varsity has added excitement to our winter season. His team is looking good this year with a 3-1 record as I write. Besides visits to Southern Idaho and Canada, Willie and Debbie have also taken trips to Seattle to watch the Sounders, Mariners and Seahawks while their doggies happily joined the Lovestead couch-potato crew watching the sporting events on TV.

As for Annie, it’s hard to keep up with her schedule of nonstop activity. This summer she spent a week in Europe, representing her company and touring Germany, Belgium, Liechtenstein and Switzerland. A one-day 5-country geocaching adventure also took her to France and Luxembourg.

In July, Bill and I thoroughly enjoyed the thrill AND fun of hosting three delightful ladies from Adelaide, Australia. In 2000 I had written a story about their equine search and rescue group which had escorted the Olympic torch. Our guests from Down Under brought us an Australian flag, which flew over the Lovestead during their stay.

We also enjoyed several family get-togethers, summer horse shows, hikes and the celebration of our mother’s 90^th birthday in August. Another highlight for me was joining my sisters on several photographic outings around the area.

All in all, 2011 turned out to be a wonderful year from beginning to end. In between all the activities, the forever constancy of good friends, a special family and getting to hail from America’s Most Beautiful Small Town sustained us, as always. As another calendar year winds down, we wish you and yours a blessed and pleasant Christmas and much joy in 2012.

Sending you best wishes from The Love Family and the Lovestead critters.

Celebration Beginnings

2011-12-23T07:30:00.000-08:00

Lovestead pre-Christmas Briefs:

Fed-Ex folks are something else; we see them after 10 p.m. Maybe their families will see them for Christmas.

All the delivery folks deserve gratitude pats on the back--if there's time in their busy schedule, that is.

Thanks to all who work long hours and drive endless miles to make sure we all have the joys of Christmas presents.

Miller's Country Store:

If you're local, go look at the beautiful artwork of co-owner Nan Miller.

I walked to the back of an aisle yesterday, saw her work for the first time and wanted to buy out the whole supply of notecards and mounted prints.

This lady bakes heavenly delights and paints magnificent slices of life.

Gorgeous work and nice stocking stuffers.

Techno Christmas:

My new lens captured the above photo yesterday.

I'm learning to use my iphone.

Last night I played remote operator as Bill and I watched the Boise State Broncos trounce Arizona State in their "Make-up for what they really deserve Bowl aka Macaroni or iz it Macco Bowl?"

Who cares what it's called----Boise State deserved a better Bowl.

While watching the Broncos, we also watched the ZAGS run their record to 9-2 in a tough-fought match-up against Air Force.

It was nip and tuck for a while, but the ZAGS figured out the Falcons.

We watched all this action on the new HD-TV delivered to us the other night by some Christmas elves named Willie and Debbie. Thank you.

Company coming:

One brother and his wife will arrive this afternoon, while Miss Annie Love arrives tomorrow morning.

So, there's much adieu about something here today.

I'd better get at it.

Have a great Friday.

From This Point Forward . . . .

2011-12-22T07:32:00.000-08:00

We've reached the point on our calendar where the days will get longer.

I tried balancing an egg on the island this morning, only to learn later that I had not picked the exact moment for when that phenomenon is supposed to happen.

When the egg kept toppling over, I said to Bill, "Maybe next year I'll have it figured out."

The egg went back into the refrigerator, and I went about my day.

For a lot of friends and family, their days are not going on as normal.

The chosen phenomenon of living in one's hometown forever and dealing with loss of familiar faces is striking again this week---big time.

So sad to deal with loss in what is supposed to by the joyous time of the year.

I selected the photo above, taken during a walk yesterday, because it's a part of the gateway leading into my friend, classmate and neighbor Gary Finney's driveway.

Gary's life is taking a new direction on this day as he says good bye to his dad.

I did not know Bud Finney very well, just that he was a big strapping, good-looking fellow. He died a few days ago, and I've been feeling sad for Gary ever since.

Haven't seen him, haven't heard his daily honks, but I did leave the annual Christmas plate in his mailbox yesterday.

Gary will stop by one of these days, and we'll talk about another loss in his family.

I did know Joe Venishnick and greatly admire his daughter, my dear friend and classmate, Andrea.

Joe's wife Pat used to send me notes. I still have a postcard here in my office which she sent when the couple were visiting Mark Twain's Connecticut home.

The postcard sat in my school desk drawer for several years.

I told Bill yesterday that I'm almost sure Joe Venishnick was one of the fire fighters I saw in that never-to-be-forgotten scene when our house burned down Dec. 20, 1984.

Joe died this week---on Dec. 20.

He served his country and his community admirably.

He also served the forests of the Northwest, and my husband, the forester, thought the world of him.

When I saw a note on Facebook where Shelley Brooks mentioned already missing her mother, I looked further and found that Mary Lou had just died.

"She was one of a kind," I wrote on Shelley's Facebook wall. "No doubt she's up there running the show in Heaven."

Mary Lou did a great job of that here on Earth.

Plus, I always heard about her cinnamon rolls, served at Priest River High School.

Mary Lou strong-armed me into doing a few projects to help out among the many she performed throughout our county.

I happily said yes because I'd known her for years and had never held it against her when she and her sister Cow Belles sat in the stands, giggling out loud as my cow Millie dragged me around the arena at the old fairgrounds.

My favorite story about Mary Lou deals with some folks who did hold it against her when she sat in the stands and yelled at the referees. I heard that she and her friend Barbara Anselmo even got kicked out once.

Yesterday I learned that another well-known person in our community---a former city councilman, father of of one of my students----died after a long struggle with brain cancer.

Bill worked with Chuck Spicklemire's dad at the IDL, and, for years, came home with Lowell Spicklemire stories.

Later, I came home with stories about how smart that Aaron Spicklemire--Chuck's son---was. Nice young man too.

And, anyone in town can tell you what a wonderful, upbeat lady Colleen Spicklemire is as she adds joy to the lives of all she meets.

The families of all these people will set off in new directions as the rest of us Northern Hemisperites celebrate the Winter Solstice.

I wish them all well and feel deep sadness for their losses.

Simply Seasonal Snapshots

2011-12-21T07:50:00.000-08:00

Love and Home

2011-12-20T07:23:00.000-08:00

This is always a day of reflection for our family of Loves.

It's an anniversary, of sorts.

I don't think "anniversary" is the best word for "the day our home burned down."

It is, however, very appropriate for what came after that tragedy.

Both are symbolized in the photo above.

The gift of love overpowered us.

Eventually, we returned to a new house which became our home for more than two decades.

For five-plus years, our house and our home have been in a different place.

Regardless of where we inhabit, love comes along for the ride.

And, that's what's on my mind today.

Enough said from this ever-grateful mind.

Twas the Week before Christmas . . . .

2011-12-19T07:35:00.000-08:00

I had planned to decorate the Christmas tree yesterday.

All morning was spent scurrying around the house, baking and cleaning----then a quick trip to town to grab a couple of items to help finalize the baking.

During this time, the Irish tenors were belting beautiful Christmas carols from the CD player.

When nobody else is home, I crank up the volume.

The experience of listening to exquisite renditions of "O Holy Night" and "Amazing Grace" reminded me why I prefer to put off listening to carols until just before Christmas.

They tug at my deepest emotions.

They remind me of the reason for the season so much that I slip into sentimentality of cherished Christmases past, on people who mean so much to me and on how much I love them all.

"Basket case" might be the best way to describe me when mesmerized by beautiful images, stories and sounds of age-old carols.

I often believe that the intangibles of the season exemplify its beauty better than anything.

For instance, a telephone call came in the middle of my second batch of those decadent praline, cream-cheese pecan bars.

A former student said he was working on his "bah humbug" attitude.

He was calling to tell me how much the time he spent in my class and with my yearbook students of long ago meant to him.

We visited for a few minutes.

Then, he wished me a deep-felt Merry Christmas.

"Thanks for the gift," I said.

There are, during this time of year, reasons to be glad and reasons to be sad.

The object of the season, and, yes, those carols tend to accentuate both.

When I arrived home from my quick run to town, Bill was home from church.

He fixed some lunch, ate some cookies and watched the Seahawks for a few minutes.

The lovely afternoon sun outside was too much.

"What are you planning this afternoon?" I asked.

He wanted to drive up Grouse Creek.

Within ten minutes, both of us had gathered clothing, gear and dogs.

Off we went.

Grouse Creek Road is plowed up to the North Fork turn-off.

From that point on, it's sorta plowed, but snowmobiles have left some open tracks for pretty decent walking.

So, we trudged up the road as dogs flitted up one hill and down another on either side of the road.

Not too many squirrels drawing their attention yesterday---just the usual Border Collie frisky fun.

I noted to Bill on our way back that Border Collies never seem bored. They have the knack to find fun in situations where even confirmed curmudgeons would be complaining.

Our walk gave us a pleasant and peaceful touch of Christmas-card beauty.

We're not complaining about the light coating of snow here at the Lovestead, but it was a pleasant escape to walk into snow country where tree limbs are laden with heavy white globs of snow.

So, it was a nice outing, especially with the camera.

Grouse Creek offered plenty of classic winter scenes, and the sun shooting its heavenly rays through dark trees was, at times, breath-taking.

Yep, it's the week before Christmas, and I'm still behind on the "to do's."

This Christmas stuff gets to be more than a full-time job, it seems.

What makes it very special, though, are the occasional kodak moments and those wonderful segments of solitude where Irish tenors blasting from the boogie box remind us so beautifully of its importance.

New-olds and Apps-titude

2011-12-18T08:06:00.000-08:00

There's not a lot on my mind this morning, but there's plenty on my plate.
And, that includes the daily rounds to see that all the plates for all the animals that hang around here are well-stocked.
If you feed them, they will come, and we're thrilled with our population of chicadees, finches and woodpeckers.
I think I'm in for good times over the winter with the new-old telephoto, if this shot is any indication of how upclose and personal I can get without disturbing a bird while it's grabbing the next bite.
Fun stuff, for sure.
As of yesterday, I'm also engaged in gleaning new Apps-titudes.
While returning from my sisters' house where we watched yesterday's phenomenal ZAGS victory, I noticed a note flashing on my cell-phone screen.
It wanted me to know that that text I'd feebly sent to Debbie, telling her that the ZAGS "wonbig" had not sent.
Seemed kinda strange, but I figured I'd resend it when I got to the house.
Well, once inside, Bill announced to me that my cell phone as no longer in service.
So, that explained the techno-communications breakdown----well, part of it, that is.
The reason it was no longer in service came out of a box on his desk.
"I got you a new phone," he said, bringing it over to the island.
Well, Steve Jobs, I now feel a real connection!
Bill bought me an iphone and gave it to me early as a Christmas present.
Too many complications were associated with taking this chip out of that phone and putting it in another phone and then taking it out again on Christmas Day.
So, my iphone and I are getting acquainted.
I've told everyone in my family numerous times that I did not need such a thing because of knowing my addictive self too well.
Bill says his motive for getting the phone is that when we're up in the woods somewhere and I want to check in with outside happenings, I can do so.
I think he rather likes knowing what's going on with Facebook and world events---only he prefers this knowledge once removed.
Better to have Marianne the techno junkie while he remains a purist.
I function as the operator and the messenger, and Bill likes knowing the stuff.
I guess that will work for me, once I figure out how to operate the phone.
So far, I have practiced with text messaging and actually dealt with a couple of calls, including a return call from Marla who owns the Ponderay Carwash just off HWY 95.
She wanted to make it right, so to speak.
Last Saturday, something in their machines had a glitch causing the carwash not to work.
A friend happened to be there with her cell phone, so she called the number to report both of us putting in money but not getting our vehicles washed.
Well, Marla called and asked, "How much did you put in and what's your address; I'll be sending you a refund.
I told Marla I was impressed----especially when I found out she's also a teacher at Borah Elementary in Hayden.
It's nice when folks in business make good on such situations.
Anyway, back to my new phone. There's plenty to learn about it.
Fortunately, we have "experts" here in the family, so I'm doubting a written tutorial will be necessary.
Of course, I'm sure it won't be long before a geocaching "app" gets added.
Then, we'll have a really good reason for taking the phone along with us to the woods so we can go find geocaches and so Marianne can check her Facebook and let Bill know what's going on in the world.
Anyway, this morning I'm an Apple, and proud of it.
Oh, yeah, I'm a PC, too, cuz I couldn't tell you I'm an Apple without the help of my PC.
Got that???
Happy Sunday!

Saturday Slight

2011-12-17T07:31:00.000-08:00

Not sure if it's the lovely Celtic music playing next to me or if it's just that Todd, the Wonder Dog (moniker given by his dad "Big Man") has the sweetest expression one could ever want in a dog.

I'm inclined to think the latter, even though the accompanying sound to this photo, adds to my admiration of this shot.

I like it for another big reason.

It's a photo snapped yesterday afternoon with my "new old" telephoto lens.

Yes, here at the Lovestead, we have a new-old motorhome, but I made a discovery yesterday that adds to our "new-old" collection.

And, what a find it was!

Over the years, I've used a variety of cameras, constantly updating accessories whenever the need was seen and the pocketbook allowed it.

Well, somewhere along the way, I purchased a true telephoto lens---not one of those gargantuan models you see along football sidelines but a long one.

Not the highest quality for total clarity and precision but still a telephoto which brings images much closer.

This may have been a divine find.

As I walked past the washing machine, a double AA battery bounced from the cupboard and landed on the washer top.

I didn't think my presence would cause the house to rumble; maybe there was a slight earth tremor in that particular spot.

Whatever the case, I stopped to put the battery back in its container on the cupboard shelf. Its container was kinda stubborn about wanting to stay in place, so it took two or three tries to find the perfect spot.

During that time I looked at the top shelf and saw a lens sitting there.

"Hmmm, I wonder if I've tried this old lens on my new digital camera," I thought.

So, I removed it, walked to the kitchen island, grabbed my camera and "Voila!" it fit the lens mount.

Next task was to see if it worked, so I pointed it out the sliding-glass door at one of the pasture sheds.

Brought that shed right up in close view.

Then, I pointed it at Todd, who was resting on the floor next to the door.

Snapping a couple of shots, I looked at the viewer window, and, by golly, I had pictures.

A very nice discovery of a new old lens, indeed.

Of course, Todd's spontaneous doorside portrait is enhanced all the more by his Christmas collar, complete with jingle bells.

I walked by a display of doggie Christmas collars the other day and then walked on, thinking the items were just too frivolous.

A few minutes later, I walked back and grabbed four collars.

The grandpuppies love them, and, so far, only one pull-off while playing.

Now, with Kea and Kiwi, there's a challenge, since Kea takes free rides with Kiwi all the time, while gripping tightly to Kiwi's neck. So, I don't know how the collar situation is going to work.

~~~~

In other news on this Saturday, is there anyone in the Northwest who does not know that today is the annual BATTLE IN SEATTLE?

Well, the match-up between the ZAGS and Arizona will highlight the television-viewing line-up in our family.

That would be at 1 p.m. on CBS.

I am already wearing my ZAGS sweatshirt. Usually, it does not come on until just before the games, but our young ZAGS team needs intangible support.

GO ZAGS!

~~~~

Willie most likely will be ready to step away from basketball after tonight. He and his JVs have been following a rigorous schedule, with a tournament in Pendleton last weekend, a game at Sandpoint Tuesday, in Bonners Ferry Thursday night and another match-up at West Valley this afternoon.

Once that game ends, Christmas break officially begins for him. I'm sure he'll be ready for some R and R.

~~~~~

Cookie baking continues. I'm almost finished, though, and the Christmas-card pile is dwindling. I'm thinking today or tomorrow will be Christmas tree-decorating time.

Someone landed on my blog overnight looking for information about how to get Christmas trees securely fastened in their stands.

I'm sure my blog entry was not helpful because it probably dealt with a bunch of cuss words and a tree that insisted on toppling over a few years ago.

Since then, wisdom has set in.

Those bushy but somewhat narrow Frazier firs do the trick. Small enough to wrestle into just about any position you desire.

Since I discovered them, decorating at this household has been much more peaceful. Heck, even family members could be in the house with me these days as I do the annual duty.

~~~~

Guess that's enough for this Saturday. That Celtic music could keep me rambling on forever, but there's work to be done and a great basketball game coming up.

So, happy Saturday to all.