Monday, August 31, 2015

Thursday, August 27, 2015

Turn Pride Upside-down (The way it should be.)

Someone posted this to FB:


I made my own:

I'm not from the south, but I am sweet. I'm not a Barbie, though I've lived many years in CA. I am not from WY, but my island blood flows fire and ice. 

I drive in snow with gritty tires, clenched fingers, and a prayer in my heart. I've finally learned how to dress for the cold and am thankful that my WY beats the heat for me. 

I wear no tu-tu, choose never to throw a mean right hook, and refuse to drink with male or female. 

I'd love nothing more than to cook a wicked meal and share it with you at my table along with the many experiences and opinions that make me ME, and you YOU. 

Repost if you are human being who doesn't need to be up in anyone else's face to make this world a better place. 

*@ll LiVEs M@tTeR*

Sunday, August 23, 2015

Star Wars Prepping

Would I? Quite possibly. 

Friday, August 21, 2015

Permit Weasel

Rylee has been dying to practice driving with a trailer. She had her first experience yesterday when she weaseled her way into permit driving thirty minutes away to exchange a broken insulation blower for a working one. Know what permit driving means? Yeah. Having another licensed driver in the vehicle. Guess who that was yesterday? Yeah. Me. Guh 


Rylee in the driver's seat of the old Rover. 

The trailer rolling along behind us. 

There was unintentional swerving. Eek. 

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Hooshy Strikes Again

When I came home from my trip to Chicago, guess what was sitting in my kitchen? My long awaited for rolling butcher block!


Never thought I'd say such a thing, but a kitchen can actually be too big. Having this baby saves me about twelve steps going from stove-peninsula-stove. Plus, a big plus, is that my trash now sits in a pullout cabinet. Yay! 


On the other end is vertical storage which I cannot rave enough about. No more fighting my cookie sheets and cooling racks. 





Then, of course, are the unique design aspects. Check out the metal accents and the distressing characteristics. (Meaning, you take a beautiful piece of wood and beat it up.)


Jake experimented colors and came up with what looks sort of like a milk paint wash which still allows the wood grain to show through.

I now have more prep space closer to my stove, and a chopping block ready for whatever I need to chop at it! Isn't it fabulous?

Here are the building stages:

Here's how you make an end-grain butcher block. Lots of time. Cutting, then gluing. 

Then, lots of sanding. 

This is after the first oil application. You like the effect of the grains running in different directions? How about that single block of black walnut? 

Here's how it looked the last time I saw it many moons ago... 
 I left my family for a week. I guess they missed me, and wanted to show their appreciation for me. Ha. 

In our last house, I designed a beautiful (installed) Hoosier cabinet to be my baking center. If you've never heard of a Hoosier cabinet or just wonder about their history click here. And, to get a belly laugh at the advertising angles used to target wives back in the Hoosier hay-day click here.

We aren't the Hoosier company, so this is what Jake named it. This is his version of a love note. Not a bad way to let your wife know you love her, eh?


Star Wars Prepping

Saturday, August 8, 2015

Tiny Body, Big Burl

Hubby invited me to go with him to a couple of small lakes he and Harris wanted to fish. I decided I could go romp the area as my workout while they cast their lines in the water. 

The drive turned out to be about an hour into Smith Fork road. I hadn't been down that road since we were first married. The day was perfect. The overcast sky kept the temps from being too hot. 

Here is lake #1. You can barely see my guys on the other side. 

I found a nice level spot in the trees to do my pre-warm up and enjoyed the shape of this old, dead, tree stump. Lots of squirrels came to "check me out."


Wandering further I found this tree with its top half lobbed over from its bottom. I don't know how it hasn't tipped over. Could've happened right on my head, I suppose. 

There were tons of flowers. 



I walked up a two track path which took me through a meadow where I saw a doe enjoying her breakfast. The path then curved around through a strip of trees. When I came out of the trees I halted. Completely. I had the distinct idea that I should stop, look, and listen... for wildlife. I started to my right, moving my vision to the left, and when I got completely around to my 8 o'clock, there was a moose staring at me. So, I stared back.

He was only thirty yards away. Yeah, I was a little concerned. He must've been a little concerned also because he moved halfway up the hill and stopped, turning his head to stare at me some more. 

Im such a tourist. Everywhere I go. Even if I'm completely alone. 

The two track teed into another two track so I stopped again at this intersection just to enjoy the beauty around me. I'm really a chicken about getting lost in the wilderness so I dared not collect too many turns in my cortex. 

On my way back, my young bull moose was at the top of the hill, snacking. He turned his head and we resumed staring at each other. When he turned his body around to completely face me, I got a little worried. I mentally calculated how fast his strong muscles could get him down to my location. So, I moved along just a little to get trees between us. I could see him. He could still see me. But, he relaxed. Taking bites and looking at me while he chewed. 

I got back to the truck and my guys were still fishing so I headed down the road on which we had driven in. I just happened to look down as I was walking and caught site of this tiny body dead on the ground. He was in perfect condition. I wondered what had caused him to pass on. I was impressed by how teeny tiny he was and thought of the scripture saying that God was aware of the passing of even a sparrow, and how much more He would be aware of us and our needs. Farewell tiny mouse. I'm sure you are as thankful for your mortality as you are to know that your story continues in another realm, where you no longer need fear for your life. 

Finally, the guys decided to check out the next lake. It was a short drive and then a short hike. Short, yes, but steep also. For me, it was a pretty intense workout. They went to investigate the water and I, the land. 
There was a massive, old tree. 

I tried to think of how old this tree could be. How much of human history had played out while this tree stood guard over the lake below? In fact, the lake may have died and been resurrected several times depending on precipitation levels while time, weather, and critters shaped and influenced this aged monument of perseverance. 




Were these scars created by man or beast? 

Can you spot the guys?

I continued up the side of the hill using long sprouted grass as a bug deterrent. Something on a tree in the distance caught my eye. I had never seen this before. What in the? My woodworker guy said its called a burl. Lumber made from burls is pretty expensive and desirable for its unique patterns. I felt sorry for the tree. 

Can you see the truck way down there? 

Harrison liked telling us the truck was so tiny he could smash it with his fingers. 

This not so little nine year old loves going out hiking. He loves wildlife. He wants to be a wildlife photographer or have a zoo. The addition of fishing has added another purpose to hiking. 

I told him he should get a book on wildlife scat, so that when we're hiking he can tell us what animals have been around. He planned to go to the library as soon as we got back.