The Long and Winding Road

2052 miles and endless hours of driving.



Ladies and Gents, this is one big country. And there is lots of corn in the middle of this country. genetically modified corn. ethanol corn. high fructose corn syrup corn. acres and acres and acres. But I digress.

the point of this blog was to fess up to the foibles of a city girl living a rural life. Sad to say, my shortcomings are not limited to the housing market.

Getting ready for the drive back to Atlanta, I installed the rooftop carrier on the new used Subaru. Having lost the keys to the carrier (another story -- how can I possibly lose a key chain with everything on it?) I use my handy dandy canvas ratchet strap thingamajigs that I bought from a hardware store because they looked cool and my sons had them.

the departure day arrives and I hit the highway.... there is a funny noise. Now, this is a new car to me so I really don't know what to expect. I don't really notice anything while I am on the dirt road... start to hear something as I near Columbus, MT... get on I90 and really start pondering the issue. Noise is coming from outside the car. Tires? Alignment? Clearly, there is something wrong and I am getting ready to drive 2000 miles. In Billings, I pull into the dealership where I bought the car. The service guy on duty is, shall we say, unmoved. If I can leave it for a few hours, perhaps he can take a gander. I go into the showroom and find the salesman who agrees to ride around with me for a diagnostic exercise. We get back on the highway and, yes, he hears the noise. After a few miles, he opens the sunroof and diagnoses the issue as VIBRATION FROM THE CANVAS STRAPS HOLDING THE ROOF TOP CARRIER.

hmm. I told him that I hoped he was now a shoe-in for dumbest customer story of the week.

The Best Birthday Party EVER

Tonight is my last night in Nye. insert visual image of weeping woman.

Deb suggested a send-off burger at Carter's. NO PROBLEMO.

I arrive at Carter's , the local saloon, to find that it is a surprise party for me! Pappy got all dressed up. Gretchen came. Maxey, Lynn and Tom too. Bill was working but in on the gig -- Suzi and Trudy as well. We all sat at the bar and I had a splendid time. even though my birthday is a week away. Beer and the best burger in the world...what else could I want???

Pappy gave me one of the precious "What would Pappy do?" bumper stickers for my new car. Gretchen made a watercolor with an Emerson quote. Tom gave me note cards from his art -- Deb made cupcakes (with funfetti icing whateverthehellthatis) and gave me an audio book on Buddhism and Maxey passed along a symbolic pan flute.

Trudy brought out the cupcakes -- everyone in the bar sang and Tom passed cupcakes all around. Cupcakes and beer? Yummy!!!

....seriously, this was the best birthday party ever with my Montana peeps.

my heart is full. tear ducts too.

My Achy Breaky Heart

Ginger's Coffee Corral special of the day! Yum....

188,592. I salute you, old friend

1. Ode to a car

My beloved 4-Runner is being retired to Montana. 188,592 miles. In 40 years of driving, this is the first emotional bond I have had with a vehicle. This car and I have been through a lot -- many trips to NC, 5 round trips to MT, a zillion trips up and down my "road" in Nye. Through it all, this car has been trusty and loyal....not a looker, mind you, but a pal. I feel like a cad.... tossing aside the faithful companion for automotive arm candy (a "harvest gold" 2009 Subaru)..... I suppose I will recover and enjoy my new wheels but I am feeling a bit like an adulterer. Rest assured, dear 4-Runner, you will always be my Montana car.

2. Book ends

I arrived in Nye with snow on the mountains and now, there is a new dusting of snow after the summer melt. The evenings are crisp and mornings chilly. If I did not know better, I would be calling a cardiologist. My heart aches right now... I love my mountain house. I love my mountains. I love my wacky little town (it is like reality tv without the commercials). Snow on the mountains is serving as my visual bookends.

3. Warning: if you encounter me over the next few weeks, expect a sullen and grumpy soul. And it had better not be hot in Atlanta.

and the local color for the day: Fried Spam Sandwiches!!!!! Take that you celebrity chefs of the "deconstructed waldorf salad" menus!!

A Perfect Day!

1. I woke to the smell of rain.... damp, piney rain. I was completely socked in with fog. Over the course of 3 cups of coffee, I watched the shrouds slowly lift from the mountains and readjust themselves as the weather moved.

2. the temperature is in the low 50's so I am wearing my favorite clothes (jeans, Fishtail Mt sweatshirt, boots) and have a roaring fire.

3. Kaite and Ally came over for hot chocolate and neighborhood "bidness."

4. Laurie, the postmistress, called to say that letter I was looking for had come in.

4. I drove to Columbus (45 minutes away) to visit the county courthouse to .... ta dum... register my car!!!!!! and register the warranty deed for the river lot that our neighborhood owns. The county clerk opens this enormous book and I see that ownership for every bit of land is handwritten. It was like being in Mayberry. The nice clerk wearing a pink jacket and blue hair just chatted away with me..... and I complimented her on the lovely knickknacks on her desk.

5. I was going to stop by Potter's Rock and Coffee shop for a latte... but forgot that he always takes a nap after lunch so the place does not reopen until after two.

6. Evan came over and we made plans for my new clothes line.... yes! I hang the clothes out to dry in the sun.

7. I have enough dry firewood to keep the fire going all night..... what more could I want?

Hey, I saw a bear last night

NOTE TURKEY IN TREE

YOU ACTUALLY COULD SEE CLAW MARKS

NO, CUPBOARD WAS NOT OPEN WHEN I WENT TO BED

Long, long day at the Crow Fair yesterday.... which is another story. It was hot and I was tired but I loved the pow wow.

I went to bed early and then the wind picked up (the Nye breeze as it is called). I actually find the wind a nice companion (when it is not sending chairs flying.....the chairs around the fire pit did get toppled last night). Anyway, the wind was loud enough that I heard it slam the bathroom room downstairs from my sleeping loft. then I heard the wind rattling papers I have on the refrig door. hmm. wait. I took that big piece of brown paper with a note from brother's family down last week. After a bit, I realized that it was a bit too noisy for wind. So, I got up and headed down the stairs. As I turned on the light halfway down the stairs, I saw a BEAR..... I said a BEAR... calmly walking out OF MY HOUSE onto the deck. So, leaving all of my intelligence sleeping soundly with my alleged protector, Wally the wimp dog, I continued down the stairs. Went to the door of the deck and closed the screen. Hmm. On the second thought, I will close the sliding glass door as well. Turning towards the kitchen area....a mere 15 feet away... cantalope rinds on the floor, trash can cover off, chicken pot pie pan licked clean, cupboard opened, jar of peanut butter open on floor with discernable claw marks.

I went back up stairs to bed...... not to sleep. Holy S**T, Batman!!!! There was a bear in my house. So I went back down and turned on the outside lights hoping that the bear had not heard Motel Six commercials with Tom Bodette (I'll leave the light on for you).

It took a while to get back to sleep. u n d e r s t a t e m e n t. By morning's light, I also discovered that the bear took the metal lid off the can with bird seed and dragged the plastic bag off into the woods. There is a trail of thistle down one side of the deck and I spotted a piece of plastic bag in the yard.

Oh, and there was a flock of wild turkeys in the yard this morning and Wally chose to chase THEM. Great..... yeah, turkeys are a big threat..... where were you when the bear was in the house?

For once, I am without words........... I believe I am simply gobsmacked.

Ranch Eggs

Ranch Eggs. A treasure. These eggs are NOTHING like what you buy in the store. They are huge, the yolks are huge, the color is vibrant and the taste..... well....... I just can't tell you how delicious they are. and fresh. I mean fresh.

So, how does it work? Well, you go to the Fishtail General Store and pick out a carton.... the rancher's name and phone number is on the carton. Enjoy your eggs and return the carton to the store and the carton will make its way back to the rancher. Even if you buy nasty ol' grocery store eggs, you need to take the commercial/industrial complex carton to the store so some rancher can use it. off to make bacon.

CSI: Nye

It appears that 2 boys found "human remains" at the nearby Woodbine campground. Upon further examination by law enforcement personnel, it was determined that bone fragments and "dental work" were most likely cremains. Unlike Waffle House that specializes in scattered, smothered AND covered, it appears that the bereaved only scattered. Not cool. and not a crime scene.

So, my children, LISTEN:

You know that I want my ashes (sounds nicer than bone fragments) in the Stillwater River. Do NOT dump them at the campground. I want you to hike up to where the river flattens out and there is that rock island. (see attached photograph) Then WADE into the water and gently let half of me go. If you want, you can fish afterwards but please cast away from my ashes. Then, hike back to Carter's and buy everyone there a round of drinks. Make sure Pappy has an open tab and a ride home.

The other half I want under the trees by the deck, scattered, smothered and covered with the wonderful trophy pudding stone (see attached photograph) that I found today halfway to Sioux Charley and hauled all the way back. Can I tell you how heavy it is??? My arms have turned to rubber and I look like Gumby.

so, here is the picture of the river and the pudding stone. and, just for the heck of it, some beautiful Indian Paintbrush that was growing along the river.

love, Mom

Sunday morning musings

I wax on about the wildlife that I am privileged to view..... mule deer nearly every day, the occasional marmot... elk... bear. But yesterday, alas, the dark side of nature. I went out for a walk and at the end of my drive...... the remains of a bunny, head neatly chewed off. Hmm. mountain lion? coyote? By the end of the day, most of the bunny was gone except a pile of entrails. Frankly, I prefer my wildlife bouncing across the panoramic meadows. geez, the food chain in action ain't so pretty. I also found fresh bear scat about 100 feet from the house.

I believe I will focus on the traffic congestion at the birdfeeders.

Last night I went to a "Pitchfork Fondu" to support an alliance to erradicate weeds in the valley. Alas, many of my colorful "wildflowers" are weeds!!! Since I am not ranching -- raising cattle or grains, it is not imperative that I deflower my land but I am ready to get rid of the darn thistle. I was going to borrow a neighbor's goat but after the bunny assassination, I am less inclined.

Oh, a pitchfork fondu you ask? Well, you build a fire, suspend an enormous cast iron pot from an industrial strength tripod. Heat this vat of oil to the appropriate temp. Take a pitchfork and load it with slabs of beef (I am not kidding) and jab the pitchfork into the boiling oil. So, it really is like fondu. The whole cooking process is rather colorful and a great spectator sport. Deep fried steak? not so good......I am not sure if we were dining on loafers or steak.

There is a bit of fall in the air... flannel sheets are on the bed. I break out in hives each time I think about returning to Atlanta. seriously.

The Griswalds Go to Glacier

photos to follow.

My brother, sister-in-law, 2 nieces and I decided to visit Glacier National Park (before the glaciers disappear in 2020-- seriously).

Brother Scott generously planned the whole trip with 2 days in a lodge on the west side of the park and 2 days on the east side. We know the first day will be a long day in the car so I suggest an early start. Suggest being the operative word. I have learned that I have no power..... it was like herding cats to get everyone in the car Friday morning. And did I mention that my nieces have grown enough that 5 people in my car was similar to the Shriner's mini-car at the parade? Yep, flesh on flesh. "SHE IS TOUCHING ME!" no kidding... all 5 of us are touching each other. I ended up sitting on the hump in the backseat in the interest of world peace.... which was a good solution. The day dragged on. how muccccchhhh looooonnger? At last, we could count down the miles.... 30 more to go, chickadees! 20 more!!! darlings, hold your breath -- we are 4 precious miles away!!

So, we arrive at West Glacier.... ready to spill out of the car and stretch legs.

Scott returns to the car sheepishly..... he had reversed our plans in his mind and we were actually supposed to be on the EAST side of the park. I was ready to grab any hotel room, emergency shelter, anything but Scott said that we were a mere 2 hours away from the correct hotel!

I will admit, it was a beautiful drive over Logan Pass. that is all I will admit.

so, here we are at St. Mary's Lodge.... one big happy, extended family in one room. Actually, we are not all in one room.... I escaped to the coffee shop with my computer.

Yesterday was a magnificant 6 mile hike to Hidden Lake with snow pack, streams of run-off, mountain goats galore, big horn sheep, mule deer and marmots. It was simply glorious... we added a mile hike to a waterfall, a few scenic overlooks, an exhibit at the visitor center on the Indians that we displaced, "giving" them arid high plains land in exchange for the most beautiful park in North American. Ain't imperialism grand? for an extra little bit of drama..... my car key suddenly turned inoperative and we could not open the door locks. I was ready to just collapse in a heap but Scott kept jiggling the key and finally, the door lock responded. No more locking the car. Geez... the car only has 187,000 miles -- what is with this quality issue? Oh yeah, we got a bullet hole type crack in windshield from a rock and have entertained ourselves watching a large crack traverse the windshield.... it has advanced about 10 inches so far.

I almost fell asleep in my dinner plate.

today is Many Glacier and surrounds

Seemed like a good idea at the time.

My brother, sister-in-law and nieces are here for a visit. So much to do! Well, tubing the river was a popular choice and we hooked up with the Mayfield family to enjoy a leisurely float down the Stillwater. (remember this: STILLwater). not.

Got the inner tubes pumped and drove up the road to put in just below the mine.

clue #1 that this might be an adventure: the water was f r eeeeeee zing.
clue #2: a long patch of white water before we hit "still" water
clue #3: the water was low enough that we could see all the rocks... which meant that any dragging fanny would hit rock.

undaunted, we launched amid shrieks of agony as the cold water hit... well, you know, the more temperature sensitve parts.

within 2 minutes, my tube wedged up against a rock, flipped and my special Wal-Mart sunglasses were lost to the ages. since the water was so fast, all I could do was hold on the to tube and ride the water.... banging against rocks. The current was pulling off my shorts which had the car keys in a zipped pocket so one hand held on to tube and the other my shorts. I would say that this was akin to being a human pinball in a machine of ice water. Let the record show that I have what appears to be an exceptionally large eggplant bruise on my arse. And numerous other bruises. If I were a child, DFACS would have been summoned immediately.

About halfway down the river, we spotted Debbie and her dog, Barty, on the bank with NUTTY BUDDIES!!! So, we pulled out for an ice cream social and set off again.

oh, and did I mention that my tube had a leak so I was holding a thumb over the leak as much as possible... a race against time to get to the take out point before I was completely out of air. This decompressing tube had the added feature of making me ride lower in the water (as in closer to the rocks).

A minor wreck at the end involved Maddy getting caught under a tree, losing her tube, Kristy trying to rescue her and getting stuck, Henry getting jammed against the bank, Shannon falling twice trying to get to them. But all ended well and we threw ourselves on the Mayfield deck ... happy, exhausted and ready for another day of adventure.

and I am so tired, that I uploaded pictures in reverse order. oh well.

Free Range Quilting, the Epilogue and a Commentary on Friendship

The quilts are "done" or at least as done as they will be this summer. Why did I think I could do this? I didn't even know that there was such a thing as "fabric scissors." I am done, done, done with projects. So, guess what? There will be NO "Free Range Quilting: The Sequel."

The bunkroom is done... pretty much. Have to repaint the stairs but that can wait. My brother's family arrives tomorrow so this is done in the nick o' time!

Now, we segue into the friendship discussion.

A friend is someone who nods with a smile when you announce that you are going to piece together quilts from old jeans despite the fact you do not know how to even thread a sewing machine (borrowed from Kaite Howes -- thank you!). "Oh, that's nice."

A friend is someone who knows that you are going to be in way over your head and she is going to have to bail out your sorry ass and still lets you go ahead with this project.

And then you call with a whimper and she gives up two whole days of her life sewing, patching, adjusting, moving 20 lbs of denim everytime we do a seam.
without glaring at you,
carping,
bitching,
snarling
or whining.
Debbie Griffin, I owe you!

Free Range Quilting

As you recall from last post, I decided on a quilting project. Cut up old jeans, bought denim, assembled. My straight pins are all bent.

I pieced and pieced and finally ditched everything to start free range quilting (my term). I started with one piece and just kept adding. I borrowed a sewing machine. There is some Bible verse about getting into heaven.... I just remember that being rich does not do it and there is a reference to the eye of a needle. Damn, that eye is small. My eyes are shot and I have been cussing up a storm trying to get that stupid thread through an elusive hole.

And then, there is the bobbin. Every time I get on a roll, the bobbin runs out of thread.

Nieces arrive saturday.... I may need to just buy sleeping bags. Next post will be finished project of bunkroom.

I hearby request that master quilters Leigh Douglas and Mary Barrett forgive me for this grave insult to the art of quilting. I could not help it...........

SewWhat

Sewing is a major source of trauma in my past.





Starting with Girl Scouts. I was a very successful Brownie, I'll have you know. Girl Scouts was a different story. We had this lame project of making an apron. Materials: thread, rickrack, a long piece of canvas type material. That's it. the apron was to be a long rectangle with a tie fashioned out of a long skinny piece of material. Sew rickrack on bottom. How tough can that be? As it turns out, it was overwhelming for me..... I cheated and had help and was caught by the troop leader and I resigned in shame. To this day, I never wear aprons.



Flash forward to adulthood. My father gave me a sewing machine as a present (wedding? christmas? don't remember). Well, that was as useful to me as nuclear warhead. To make it worse, he gave me a kit to make a down vest for my brother. He might as well have asked me to perform a self-lobotomy. The material was slick and impossible to sew.... down feathers flew in the air, and a ZIPPER??? I soldiered on, setback after setback. Finally, the vest, as it were, was finished. A tragic looking thing. I hereby apologize to my brother for the ugliest sewing project ever. But, it was not my idea in the first place.



So, here we are today and I am, of my own freewill, undertaking a sewing project. With the optimism of an amnesiac, I have decided to make throws for the twin beds in the yet-to-be photographed bunkhouse project. I decided that old jeans should not be tossed but saved for future use. Ok, I was inspired by the Gee's Bend quilts. Now any observer could note that if I could not assemble two pieces of fabric to make an apron, how in the world am I going to piece together random patches to make a duvet cover? Good question. No answer.



I suppose all this shows is the triumph of the human spirit in facing the ghosts of the past......or being a damn fool and thinking that I can pull this off.

Time Travel

I believe in time travel. Really, I do. I left the 1950's in Montana on Thursday and jetted into 2010 in Raleigh, NC. There are more stores in the Delta terminal of the Raleigh airport than in all of Fishtail and Nye combined. And stuff... plain old stuff that no one needs. Reason for the trip? My ex-father-in-law's 90th birthday -- a celebration of a live well-lived and a much loved person. Can I call him my father-in-law? Do I need to put an ex by his name?

but... the return trip... the RDU airport this morning ... at 5:20 am. I was reminded of Temple Grandin's work. She has become a recognized authority on the design of kill floors and slaughter lines--- so that the animals move to slaughter without becoming agitated. Seems that the TSA has adopted some of her measures as bidnessmen were shuffling compliantly ahead clutching boarding passes. I heard and --- I KID YOU NOT--- a bidnessman tell a fellow traveler "if you can monitor it, you can measure it. If you can measure it , you can manage it." and I can dump manure on your pithy sayings.

Airplanes are quite similar to the trucks that take animals to feedlots.... cheek to jowl... only a few have a view. I suppose the difference is that airline passengers do not have to stand in their own waste. Interesting that so many focus on improving the lives of animals when we could also direct some attention on the lives of humans.

But, I am back. Back in the land of no tv, no stores, no commercials. The trees smell fabulous and real manure is actually much more appealing than corporate manure.

Why I like Nye

Pappy and his shop

Carter's Camp

Reason #384: Carter's Camp. The local saloon.... the only watering hole around.

Reason # 385: The Nye Mall. Chipmunks have found my stash of birdfood and this is not good. Now that they have found my deck..... I worry that they will learn how to open the windows. So, I went down to the Trading Post (known as the Nye Mall) to find some container. Didn't see anything. Bill, owner of store with his wife Judy, asked what I was looking for. I told him and he said -- well, if you can mind the store for a few minutes, let me look in the garage. So, I sat down and ran the store. ... he returned in a few minutes with a large metal bucket with lid and gave it to me.

I am sure store owners in Atlanta would let a customer sit with an open cash drawer........

Reason # 386: Pappy. Pappy (he got the name after he married a woman with nine children) runs an automotive shop. He calls all women "Sweetheart," claiming that he can't remember names. He calls me Lee half the time now which warms my heart. I took him a homemade chicken pot pie a few weeks ago and he raved about it. So, I took him another when I went to get my oil changed. I asked him for a piece of paper to write down the cooking instructions. "Sweetheart, I saved that paper just in case you might make me another one."

Reason # 387: The Trading Post again. I was assembling a lamp on my deck and one stupid little nut fell through the planks and I never could find it. Down to the Mall. Found some washers and nuts but nothing to fit. Bill went off to his house and returned with just the right size nut and allowed as how I could come look at his nuts any time.

Reason #388: neighbors. Tom Wolfe and Lane Davis rode up on horses this afternoon as I was messing around with the home improvement project (turning room above garage into bunkroom). They looked around the garage and asked if I needed help getting the mattresses up the stairs. HECK YEAH. So, they took 2 mattresses and 2 box springs up the stairs for me. Got on the horses and rode off.

bling

Putting the "You" in Do-it-Yourself

as in project. do-it-yourself projects. The premise behind the DIY, as we shall call it, industry is that handy people can really do just about anything with proper tools and materials. Fine. But what if you are not handy? What if you are the Barney Fife of home improvement?

This little vignette should say it all. I am painting the stairs up to the room over the garage, the guest quarters of the future. I am painting the risers black and the treads barn red. I carefully taped all edges but ... dang it... the paint just drips and the brush takes on a life of it's own. I was showing off the painted stairs (and I DO plan touch ups). Shawna said ---"so what's the tape for?" and doubled over laughing hysterically. OK. So there is lots of touch up in my future.

One day, I was swinging the new paint can out of the car.... the Home Depot guy had not firmly tamped down the lid and a wave of brand new oil based high gloss paint went sailing over the driveway. Sure is permanent. Several have proposed methods for cleaning this up. I am going to just draw chalk around it and call it a crime scene.

Do you know how hard it is to paint baseboards???? They are too close to the floor and painting like Venus on the Half Shell is just not comfortable. But, I have painted the floor... twice... it is done and there is a collage type feel to it as a few moths were permanently encased in paint when they lingered too long on the floor. Also, a dust bunny or two became entombed. My standards slip.

Next up? applying barn wood to the end walls. and this is NOT DIY.... I draw the line when table saws are required.
stay tuned.

Don't Mess With Me

It is true that many here are fiercely independent and don't cotton to people messing with their bidness. (remember, the unibomber lived here). And sometimes these people make the effort to educate the rest of us. But, PLEASE..... I wanted to pass this guy and get in front and slow down so that he could fume over my Obama stickers on MY car.......

Of course, there are those who just want you to know their hobbies. Betcha no one in Atlanta has the "we trap" tag!

And for those of you who wondered if Costco sells the same stuff everywhere..... you can buy yer tractor oil at the Costco in Billings.

but what I love best are the sunsets... no story here... just beauty that takes my breath away every single time.

Mayberry

Pappy's wife, Suzi, died last month. They had been married over 35 years. Note: when he married her, she had SIX children. That, my friends, is true love. Anyway, Pappy is so sad that I decided to join the casserole brigade. I called the shop to let him know I would bring dinner. Phone out of order. I call his house and "Becky" answers (a daughter, I think). She told me to leave a message with his son who works at Carter's (the local and only saloon). Following me so far? I call Randy and tell him that I am bringing dinner. When shall I deliver it?

"Sweetheart, the house is open. Just stick it in the fridge. Thanks."

I make a chicken pot pie and head down the hill. Can't remember which is Pappy's house so I enter the Nye Mall with chicken potpie in hand. Judy points out Pappy's house and I head down the side street (one block long). Bill Myers drives by. "You like asparagas?" Sure! He reaches in the back seat of his pickup and gives me a handful of wild asparagas that he had "harvested."

Later today, I get a phone call from the UPS guy who can't find my house (street signs would be helpful but there is some disagreement as to the correct name of my street). He is leaving my package at the Nye Mall and asks that I draw a map for him so he can find me next time.

and that is the best part of life in a small town.

Undaunted

Despite "issues" with every do-it-yourself project this summer, I am taking on a new one. A Big Project. This is a testimony to fearlessness, the inability to learn a lesson, or lack of money. Perhaps all of the above.



Problem: This cabin only has 3 beds and I have dibs on one. There is a crappy futon that can sleep another. My brother and his family are coming in a month and I need 4 beds.



Solutions:

A. I looked into buying a teepee (or tipi) and found a very cool one based on Souix designs. But I am not sure that I would be able to set it up and take it down by myself. In addition, this is a bit of a limited use item and a $500 purchase.



B. I have a free-standing garage! There is a large room over the garage...... that has not been used in - oh- 15 years. but, there is electricity. And, it is spacious. So, off we go.

Step one: drag a nasty mattress and boxspring down a flight of stairs.

Step two: gag

Step three: sweep up 15 years of miller moth particles, rodent droppings, dirt, etc.

Step four: look up "hantavirus" on Internet


that is all for today.... but



Next: use shop vac over whole floor, wash walls



Plan: use stack of old barnwood in garage for trim, exchange fluorescent lights for ceiling fans, paint, paint and paint.



Furnish with thrift store finds.

Stay tuned. I just don't think it is going to go this smoothly.

What's the poop?

Dear readers,

In Atlanta, the poop is neatly scooped up in the New York Times plastic bag and placed, typically, in a non-dog owning neighbor's trash can. And if you want to see a Montanan spray beer through his nose, inform him that you always pick up your dog's turds at home. He will simply not believe you.

But, it is a whole wide world of poop out here! the top picture is bear.... black bear... and there is lots of bear poop to be found this time of year. And below the bear, you find mountain lion. At least that what I think it is. Followed by fresh elk. Spring elk poop. It becomes more pellet like as the summer progresses. How did I learn all of this? Well, I have a handly little book "Scat and Tracks of the Rocky Mountains." I am sure you can all download this on your Kindle. No home should be without it. I did not include the more pedestrian deer poop and mule deer poop but if inquiring readers want to know........

Hail and rhubarb

You say you have already had rhubarb jam, rhubarb jelly and rhubarb pie? and you still have more from the garden? Fear not! Simply bring a box of rhubarb to the post office and someone will surely take it away.

Before the hail the beautiful West Fork of the Stillwater River. I was on an early season search for pudding stones.

I really get the giggles..... whenever we have hail, I always think of someone from North Georgia swearing.

Today was simply beautiful and then about 3:30, major clouds rolled in and the sky darkened. Soon, there was thunder and lightning and an anxious dog. And then -- Hail. (Hail, momma, I done filled the pawpaw truck with gas-o-lean).

now, an hour later -- the sky is blue and beautiful and the birds are chirping away. In this part of Montana, they say, "don't like the weather? Wait 15 minutes.) yep, it changes that quickly.

Small town charm

The howling winds of the past few days have abated and people are no longer quoting lines from The Wizard of Oz. So, time to focus on what is great here.

1. I went to the "Nye Mall" for some provisions (store is about the size of a small garage and every inch is covered with merchandise ranging from fishing line to diapers, from beer to thumbtacks). No carts or baskets. You just start stacking your stuff on Bill's table. I checked out and realized, halfway up the hill, that I did not remember putting the can of soup in a bag. Got home and there was a phone message from Connie apologizing for not seeing the can by the penny jar. huh? that does not happen in Atlanta... even at my wonderful Publix.

2. out on manuevers, I stopped at the Muddy Lamb to pick up a homemade candle. Carol, the owner, was nowhere to be found. Gretchen, a local artist, was finishing up and project and wanted to pay Carol for something. After 5 minutes, I just wrote Carol a note, left money on the counter, took my candle and left. Gotta love that faith in your customer!

oh, and while I was there, I signed for the UPS delivery. I went next door to the Fishtail General Store and the UPS guy went there too, bought a soft drink and a piece of pizza and sat by the cashier to enjoy lunch and a visit.

The latest episode of Green Acres: To save money, I decided that any idiot (namely, me) could stain a deck. How hard could it be? I bought a 5 gallon drum of stain. Naturally, the job was a bit more than I anticipated so the staining took place over the course of several days (interrupted by rain which is contraindicated for staining). I finished the last batch yesterday morning and the bottom of the barrel was a much different color than the rest. Had I not sitted the stain enough during the process? Was this a curse by the DYI gods? All I need is a pile of empty beer cans (PBR could be best) to complete the effect. great.

The morning is amazingly still today... the only sound -- birds. and my snoring dog.

Welcome to Green Acres - Big Sky

Well, the mass emails go to spam which I assume is not an editorial comment. So, I have decided to resume blogging after a lengthy hiatus. This chronicles my hapless adventures in home improvement as well as life in a small Montana town. My non d'plume? The Dudette

Today I learned the lesson of patience. Well, at least I was given the opportunity to learn that lesson. Unlike life in Hotlanta where you can hire someone to do ANYTHING at your house from roof repair to decorating the Christmas tree, Montana is the land of do-it-yourself because there ain't no one else. So, time to stain the deck. It rained last night but the sky was looking blue this morning. The weedwhacker was jammed so I decided that staining the deck was a great plan. The extendo roller kept collapsing. The stain dribbled all over my pants. My fingers were stuck together. and clouds appeared in the sky. Time to read directions. "Be sure to use stain when rain is not expected for at least 24 hours." shit. Not only that, a helpful neighbor pointed out that it is best to let the deck dry out from the previous day's rain. double shit.

Local color? YES! Book your tickets west as "Christ Clowns from the Life in Christ Circus are coming to Stillwater County." I just can't imagine Jesus with a Bozo wig. I will have to say that part of me really wants to go.... I just can't imagine.

Or, consider the Anipro Arena Spring Consignment Auction on June 19th!! Were you looking for a MVE 3523 semen tank? Perhaps a steak cuber or meat saw. And, yes, dear shoppers, "surrey, fringe top, very nice" also for sale. You can't make this up.

and finally, from the Law Enforcement Blotter of the local paper

" A Fishtail resident reported two men came to her door selling something and offered her a free mini-Kleenex box as a gift. She told the me she was not interested and they left, but the resident thought the incident was strange." Ya think?