Wednesday, October 28, 2015


When they close the range for deer season and you have to pack up the long gun...

When the rains haven't come...

When you are trying for incognito at the parish picnic and your neighbors shout Hello and call your name, just as Padre is shaking your hand...


Monday, October 26, 2015

Happy Birthday Bean!

On the occasion of my oldest grandchild's 25th birthday...

His mom sent this awesome card to him and it speaks for all of us.

Love you beyond words Bean, Happy Birthday, Nanny

Thursday, October 15, 2015

Stink Bait & Gun Powder...

Dad has been calling in all his markers to get back on the river fish'n. 

 He talked Flash (pilotman) into pre-flighting Ol Ugly, so bright'n early Monday morning we put'er in the river.  I had rigged my new Pink pole just the way my SIL (fishing goddess of the Columbia River) told me. 

 Dad wore his hat backwards for luck, Flash took the helm and away we went. It was cold on the water at o'dark thirty, but beautiful.  We only saw one salmon jump and didn't even get a bump on the stink bait coated flatfish. A trolling motor on Ol Ugly, and having Father Sherman bless the poles might be the answer. We saw lots of turkeys, hawks, and deer. None of which I managed to get a picture of...sigh.

headed up river

Iron Canyon
 Dad has been having vocal cord problems so his ENT had him scheduled for an Echo and a stress test (pre-biopsy) this morning. They were cancelled due to equipment problems at the doc's, and rescheduled for later in the week. I'm worried about the ol guy, though the ENT surgeon says that if it is the big C there is a 97% cure rate. 
With the cancel on Dad's tests, and a call to arms from the gals, I headed to the range for a few hours of therapy...

 The pistola gals gett'n ready to put some down range.

With the new front sight on the Walther (thanks to Flash) I managed to put a couple hundred rounds were they were supposed to go.  Still having low left problems with the little Sig. Still a good morning.

I have no idea who would shoot the balls off that cowpoke, range master sir.

Monday, October 5, 2015

Learning to fly...

A great weekend, even though the North wind blustered on Friday night and Saturday. 

Pilotman flew up Friday evening ahead of the weather, while I brined Dad's catch in preparation for smoking it.
Saturday am, while we were waiting for the smoker to heat up we made a run to the airport to check the tie downs on the plane, all good & secure. 
 We smoked the salmon, which took constant refilling of the Alder chips due to the wind conditions on the patio.  10 hours later we pulled it out, sampled a couple of big strips, and declared it done.
Sunday was sunny and calmer weather, a little turbulence aloft but nothing worrying. We spent the morning scrounging through the old tools, farm implements, and camping stuff at the local antiques fair. It was fun to see if we knew what all the items were used for back in the day. We only got stumped a few times, and usually the owner of the booth could tell us the ones we didn't know.  Pilotman said it was different taking me. "What, how so?"  "You go racing by all the girly girl stuff, and make a beeline for a plane, or a draw knife or an unusual caliper or a bridle."  Sensing the possibility of trouble ahead, I kept my mouth shut. (Yes I know you find that hard to believe, but if I try very hard and concentrate, it is possible... for short periods of time.)  Pilotman laughed, and said he was having a good time.
In the afternoon we took Dad up flying to air him out... and scout the river for future fishing and kayak trips.  I got some time in pre-flighting, and assorted in-flight processes.  When we got back to the airport, as I put the steps in place, and took hold of Dad's arm to help him out, I said... "Thank You for flying Flash & Co Air, the pilot can't be bought... but the help can."