my photo drop

Two studs!!

During Hope's high school graduation...

October 2009...gettign ready to marry off Hope...

Isn't this the day we did the bridals?

Chores

Remember when we had actual chores?

I'm not talking about regular sissy chores, but real down-and-dirty chores.

I can distinctly remember waking up early, pulling on those old fire-fighter boots, wrapping some dingy, old (yet warm) coat around me and trudging my way to the goat barn with one of those blue plastic buckets. There you'd break apart a bale of alfalfa, you'd probably have to rummage in the hay for an old string so you could rub it against the new one and burn through it. You'd fight those momma goats away from the gate so they didn't stampede out of the pen area, and then try and separate one at a time so that you could milk them. Always being wary that they didn't step in the pail, or worse, knock it over. Momma wouldn't be happy if you spilled the milk. Repeat x3.

Then you'd drop the milk off on the porch, or take it into the kitchen and make your way next to the rabbit barn/chicken hutch/ pig pen. Each posed their own unique set of challenges, requiring a different set of skills and diligence.

An hour or so later you'd come back to the warm house smelling like animals. If you were lucky, you had time to shower before you would run down the 18 mile driveway, avoiding the mud-puddle, with wet hair in time to catch the bus. Where you would ride to school with a bunch of kids who knew exactly what you were going through, because they had just done it themselves.

A long day of Mrs. This, and Algebra that, and you'd be back home to repeat the process before dinner. Because "you don't get to eat until those animals do" can't you hear Momma saying that?

Today my day was filled with sissy chores. Vacuuming, dishes, the eternal toy pick up, and I remembered those other chores fondly. Heaven knows why.

The family bed in the house on Gambol Quail

We have always had a family bed.........since Sara was a brand new baby and I was determined to breastfeed her no matter the hardship....my doctor saw how exhausted I was and said, "Lisa take that baby to bed with you!" I got the best nights sleep that I had in months.

Family bed had begun.

WHen I think about our beautiful house in Colorado Springs on Gambol Quail, I am grateful for so many things....one of them was our king-size waterbed.

As I sit here tonight at my computer listening to soft music, "quiet music" we have called it since those Colorado nights on Gambol Quail.

It wasn't unusual for there to be 3-4 kids in our bed with us at any given time.....Sara was older and rarely came to our bed, unless there had been a been a bad dream in her night.

Abby was usually there and of course Owen, he was born when we lived there, almost born in that house and Hope too....

Beautiful quiet music began to waft there, Temple in the Forest our first tape....back then there were tapes......

Now there are cd's....and itunes and ihomes.......

but I remember the lovely master bedroom that attached to the bath, it was a good sized room and decorated so nicely....

I labored in my chair there in that bedroom for 2 births....

I had a nice little nitelight in the headboard and I could read after my hubby went to sleep

We made sweet love there and a baby named Hope.

Such a nice place...........

Lake Almanor

That house ROCKED. I remember:

• spending hours and hours on the dock
• all of us trying to squeeze in that kitchen to "help cook"
• bundling up in sweat pants and hoodies at night
• bats dive bombing us at dinner
• the porch that would give you splinters if you werent careful
• those AWESOME bedrooms with treasures in every untouched drawer
• the storage room under the porch, if you were brave enough you could find all sorts of watercraft
• learning how to play poker with Grandpa
• Uncle Elvis playing football with us
• watching Grandma Cecile hold onto the hand rail as she "swam" in the morning
• realizing one summer that I recognized the way to get there....

Soon we leave....

Soon, in a week or so, most of my family will head back to where it all began. TO the Indianapolis 500.

I don't remember much about the race that year, but here is a synopsis.

What I do remember was watching the race with a new guy in the short shoot between the first and second turns.

We will be able to show that place to our kids, relive some old times, create new ones and look to the future....

Scooping Steer Feed

I remember the Wiersma's who so kindly donated feed for my 4-H steers. They said I could take the "push outs". Push outs are what the dairy cows didn't eat because they pushed it too far away from themselves in the feed troughs. Every day Momma or Poppa and I would go to the dairy and fill two big plastic garbage cans with feed. It was this great mix of alfalfa, grain and other wonderful things. It was BY FAR the best feed I could be giving my steers.

Tiny won Grand Champion once he was on the hook, I have no doubt that his great marbling and musculature was because of this great feed. I didn't know enough to have done anything else to make it happen. :)

Doing this every day meant that we dealt with A LOT of weather while we salvaged feed. I remember scooping up feed with the snow whipping against my face. I would put on my big work gloves and use my little hands as big paddles to fill up the buckets. Often times it would be dark before we got over there and we would be working underneath the big yard lights of the dairy.

I can still smell the wet alfalfa and the sweet grain... Funny how I remember that smell over the actual smell of the dairy.