Cowcamp news...

It has been crazy around here, what with hospice people, friends, and family in and out. Dad is still with us, but weaker.  My brother blew in for a day an a half, and has gone back home to Ideeho.  It was so good for Dad to get to see & talk to him. They went through old photos, and told hunting stories, and loaded my brother up with things that Dad wanted him to have. Now if Dad will just hang in til my Sean gets here to see him. 

I love my kids, they are straight up awesome. When I put the word out to them that Grampa was on Hospice care they went into action.  Marymine rounded up her brood, loaded'm up in her crewcab pickup, and headed up to spend the day with Gramps. 

My Sean texted to say he and Amy would fly down and spend the weekend with Grampa and I.  If I thought he needed to come sooner, he would make that work, too. I didn't think that was necessary... So they are flying in Sat and staying til sometime Monday, Yay!

In the Best News department... 

My Sean has popped the question to his girlfriend Amy and her response was "Oh Hell Yes!"

She is a really nice gal and Sean and his girls love her and her boys. 

I'm pretty excited, she just might fit pretty darn well in this crazy clan.

 

A Blessed Christmas...

Celebrating the season in our small town church. It is nice to know that I'm not the only one who likes unadorned trees.  The Latin is John 14:6.

The family news: 

We have a new member in our extended family via my niece, Rachel.  Welcome to the clan, Emet James.

My Sean and his adorable Amy having a good time on the slopes. (You would not believe how much he looks like his dad.)  When did my son get old enough to have grey hairs instead of giving them...

The Gingerbread house wars are on at Marymine's. Though I must admit I didn't quite get the aliens coming home to the pyramids at first. Yes, we have an outside the box thinker!

Marymine and crew are coming here for Christmas! Dad doesn't know, so keep it under your hat.

Dad said he didn't want a Christmas tree, not even the small one, stored in a box in the garage.  I don't always listen to what he says, as much as what he doesn't say..

So, instead of getting a new rug shampooer, that I had been saving for, I went and got an 8' lighted Christmas tree. Didn't tell Dad, til I got it setup in the living room window. Plugged it in, and watched Dad's face light up as bright as the tree.

"It's Beautiful, Sis!"

Made my Christmas.

Wishing you and yours a Blessed Christmas.

Time and again

What a year...
fraught with sadness over the passing of Himself, worry at the deployment of my Navy medic grandson to Afghanistan, and concern for the youngest granddaughter, during her recent surgeries to help with her mobility.
And Gus has been black listed by the groomer for unbecoming behavior. What? he's a Scottie, he has attitude bred into him...
There have been many good times as well: The grand kids sports games, I try to go often, and not cheer overly loud...sometimes I succeed. I've been up to see my mom & dad more often this year. Dad at 88, is still taking their money on the golf course...
Visits with my dear brother, here at the bunkhouse and on the Oregon coast. Gus and I driving up to Vancouver as often as possible to spend time with Sean and his girls. Always a good thing.  Marymine and the kids just across the way from the bunkhouse, to hug on & enjoy.
There is a long To Do, To Learn list...so if you see a Scottie driving an ol SUV with a white haired, wild eyed granny, best get outta the way...

I loved camping and still do

I was always the kid that loved to go camping at the lake. Water skiing til our arms were ready to fall off. Swimming, skipping rocks, packing fire wood, finding treasures. Eating fresh peaches from home, trout from the lake.  The smell of the forest, the smell of wood smoke from the fire.  The sounds of the loons calling in the evening. Up early to watch the sun come up, the lake was like glass. I loved camping and still do.
Mom and dad had an ol army tent to sleep in.  My brother, the three boys that came with us, and I slept out under a blanket of stars.  We had ancient camp cots to put our bedrolls on.  The only flat ground was taken up by the tent, camp table, and fire pit, so we dug holes for our cot legs.  If you moved around too much on your cot you would find yourself rolling down hill into the lake.  Not real great, as you would invariably bounce off a few boulders on the way down and as you were usually snugged into an old mummy bag, the air hole having become fixed at the back of your head, you couldn't see, and you sure couldn't stop. You just knew you better hope that one of those thick headed boys would wake up and keep you from turning into the girl of the lake.
One night after more smores than any kid should eat, we slipped off to dreamland. Then the screaming began, up popped five heads, again the scream. Now there are five heads up,and five flashlight beams whipping around amid a chorus of frightened voices.  Dad called from the tent to "pipe down out there and go to sleep".  "But, but, what was that, who had screamed, and it seems to be getting closer?"  Dad said, "it's just a mountain lion, across the lake, go to sleep, now."   "OK, if you say so, but, it sounded like a woman screaming." "It's not, it's just a big mountain lion, they sound like that."  We finally settled down, and went back to sleep. 
I was woken by the sound of something moving around in camp, oh God, it's a bear or the mountain lion come to get us.  Having scrunched down to the bottom of my bag, I could only see a small area in front of my cot, but I could hear what ever it was getting into stuff in camp.  I could hear it eating what sounded like Fritos, and getting closer to my cot.  Then an ol doe stuck her nose in the end of my bag,  and that's how come I screamed, rolled off the cot, rolled down the hill, bounced off a bunch of boulders, and nearly drowned in the lake.  I loved camping and still do.

The Other Mothers...

  Many years ago while in the process of cleaning out closets in the big house at my mother-in-law's, we happened on the fur coats.  She hadn't worn hers in years, and she was putting them in the thrift store box.  Oh, I fell in love with one, it was a beautiful three quarter length mink, and fit me perfectly.  "Take that if you want it," says she.  Trying to act like it was no big deal, I quickly put it back in it's special bag and hustled it out to my pickup.

Now I lived on the family cattle ranch in the middle of nowhere.  Most of my time was spent with kids, cowboys, cows, horses, dogs, and barbwire.  What would I be doing with a fur coat.

  I so wanted a reason to wear that coat.  A call to a friend was the hatching of the Plan. You see the friend also had an ol fur coat she loved, lived in the middle of nowhere, & had small children. Her kids and mine went to the same private Catholic school in town. 

Getting kids to school entailed a lot of mad dashes to town in what ever vehicle was available at o-dark-thirty in the morning. Me wearing ratty jammies, old leather slippers and trying to keep from spilling my mug of coffee. I often pulled into the parking lot with screeching tires, dogs barking, baling wire, curlers, and hay flying.  My friend arrived a bit nicer but not by much.  There we were met by the Other Mothers.  The Other Mothers lived in town, drove polished cars, had their makeup on, and were dressed fit for a brunch at the Cliff House.  They weren't very friendly to us, even though we never turned the kids or dogs loose on them. 

After another morning of the Treatment by the Other Mothers, I decided that the school parking lot was to be the place I would implement the Plan.  My friend was game.  We would wear our fur coats to take our kids to school.   We still screeched into the parking lot, with cowdogs barking, hay flying, messy hair, and ratty jammies, but also wearing our glorious fur coats. We kept it up til the weather got too warm to wear our furs.  The Other Mothers never did take a liking to us, but dang we had a great time.