Sunday, September 30, 2012

GRRRR-iiiiiZZZ Emotion Bowl Win Repeated by Grid Kids

(A rival trying to hold J. back....)
So I missed the BIG game. I was forced to listen to it on the radio and about had a nervous breakdown.
After rallying back from behind, the Boys in Blue, now up 24-20; faced 40 seconds (something like that) and a first and goal from I.F.
At the 5 yard line.
Why must you do that to us team??
Then it was 3 yards but the D held them twice over and we
The next day the mini versions of 2021 carried the momentum of the nationally ranked rivalry
between Skyline and I.F.
and beat the Idaho Falls Grid Kid team!

(Not gonna happen today, guy! In fact, not only will I get around you, but I will do this:)

You might be wondering what the afros on some of the helmets are,
They are called The Guardian and are extra protection for concussion.
That makes me feel better.

A sweet TD.

And another sweet touch down.

All made possible by these guys... the line. This is a different game- the one that handed us a loss.
These guys were HUGE. And a some were a year older. Sorry, I have to give the disclaimer.

It didn't stop J. from some sweet tackles, fancy footwork and dances after each one.
With all the games overwith he had some down time with friends. I asked him what he did:
"Played Football."

Parents, I have more pics of the kids. Will try to get them uploaded to our facebook page via Coach P.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Rewind back to: The Winding Down of Summer

Fall is very much underway but I had to go back and blog about a couple things about Summer
and the transition into Fall that always strike me. 
This day was one taken back when it was still Summer.
However, it was the first day that the breeze seemed to whisper for Summer:
"I won't be here much longer."
The breeze is a bit cooler, the sun somehow casts a different glow on the sprinklers and the water.
Things seem clearer, like getting an update for your contacts/glasses after an eye exam;
everything is in sharper focus.
For some reason I want to capture it and keep it because it's beautiful in a sad sort of way.
And it's not sad just because winter in Idaho can be dreadful.
It seems to fall into the category of watching something, or someone grow.
Such as the not so little boy above.
Wasn't I just taking pictures of him on his uncle's long board at the end of
Maybe my reasoning for trying to capture it on film, commit it to memory or somehow put down on  paper words to describe it, is so that I can return to it again some time.
Even the Sunflowers bow down to the fact; realizing they have to submit to the changes of Fall too.
My Mammoth Sunflowers climbed so high and peaked for about two days with large round faces before plunging head long over the potatoes.
That could be due to the fact I didn't get out there and "hill up" some dirt around them for a better base.
I like this pic for two reasons- the one sunflower bent over my project seems to have the attitude and
health that I had over the summer and spring:
"I've had it! Thank goodness I can lean on this pole my gardener stuck out here."
And I also thinking:
" Too bad that gardener didn't think about optimal placement in the direct sunshine and water me more!"
The second: The color of the weeds. The fires in the surrounding areas have been turning the sun into a deep orange and red at sundown and
have almost colored our air the same hue as these weeds above in my walla walla patch. 
And even though you can't see it because I can't take a good pic, the weeds in turn seem
to have been "burnt" by those fires and cast a rosy hue at dusk.
Quite lovely actually.
I can't wait to dig and see if any of the onions I planted are beneath the dirt.
And then there are cute little things like these berries beside my Rutabaga patch that pop out when fall enters the picture and I think:
"Oh, no! I'm not ready to be done looking at my garden!"
And I'm not done wandering outside and seeing my son play with the hose and be a kid.
Because, unlike my onion patch, there is no doubt that growth will take place
whether I watered him or not!!!!
Another summer, gone faster than you can blink an eye!
Wait- there is one more thing wrong with the garden that is visible above- the lettuce gone to seed.
After harvesting so much lettuce, going through the endless cleaning of the leaves and having mildly soggy salads and then NOT being able to eat it my much loved salads;
I got a little lazy and defiant.
So they are now towering and holding their own better than the Sunflowers.
Good news is that we have potatoes, carrots, and some rutabaga to live off of if it comes down to it.
Time to pull out those rutabaga recipes I printed off when I planted the vegetable.
And thanks to a neighbor, we have a bunch of peaches that need to be
An art that I need to work on. 

Monday, September 24, 2012

Skyline HS Football Info., Fav. Tackles and Mouse Darbs

Well, our boys in blue suffered a loss.
It was a tough blow.
But the good news is- the address to send donations help our Grid Kids is:
3045  Laurence Ct.
Doug Swanson heads up the program.

Even though we had a loss to a very good team, J. was in high spirits after the game.

Immediately afterward he asked me: "So, mom, what was your favorite tackle?"
uhhhh.... hmmmm. I dunno.
He did do a different little dance after each tackle and I was tempted to base my
decision on this. 

ya know, I think I liked the one where you tackled the kid behind the line of scrimmage
and you were up so fast and did your skip and arm pumping as you walked
away from it.
"Yeh, that was a pretty good tackle." he smiled looking down at his excited and admiring little cousins staring up at him and recognizing who he was, now that the helmet was removed. 
 I asked his 3 year old cowboy nephew
if he was going to play football when he got older.
"No, I'm not."
he replied matter of fact.
But after seeing J's mouth gaurd-assuming it was candy- he had a change of
heart, vowed he'd play the game if he could just get a 
a "mouse darb."

Sunday, September 23, 2012

How To Sharpen Your Pencil

On a routine trip to the library this book, displayed on the new book cases, shocked me, and I will tell you why.
Padre had given us (J. me and La Madre) a tutorial in
pencil sharpening
within the last six months!

 J. had crammed a crayon into the best double barreled pencil sharpener we had, and Madre, who'd felt it was "broken";  beyond repair, had thrown it away. Only to have Padre rescue it
from the garbage and fix it.
However, the holder for the shavings went out earlier and was never recovered.

I don't know if an antique one, or not. Regardless, all items must be
reviewed for throw away....

So back at the library, my eyes widened,
due to the time restraints, I quickly grabbed the book off the little easel propping it up for attention    on the shelf and checked out.
As one who likes to write, I was utterly astonished that there could be a book published on the art of pencil sharpening.
It had to be a joke. The author had been a political cartoonist before venturing out
on pencil sharpening.
I opened it to this page and was reassured...
Warm up exercises before sharpening the pencils.C'mon.
 But the witty author commenced to give a very detailed book on sharpening pencils.
I never knew.

Well, I'd had Padre's tutorial after he'd meticulously mended the
double barreled sharpener.
Which is the best one I've ever used.

If this doesn't give hope to writers everywhere, I don't know what does.


Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Old Trail Town, and Madre's Sympathies for The Sundance Kid and Pals

The cabins and the school house pictures from my last post from the
Old Trail Town; one of the many sights to see while in Cody, Wyoming. Surrounding cabins from that area were carefully taken down, put back together again and made into a "little town" that would resemble the olden days.
Each cabin is filled with furniture and tools used from that time period

and most are identified by who stayed in them. The Saloon there is pretty authentic, but of course bone dry. So if you are passing through remember to bring your own water or drink of choice to ease the pains of your long haul.

Remember, I didn't actually "see" any of these cabin's insides until I got home and the pics were uploaded. They make me want to go back when I can because I love old stuff. 
The Irma hotel

(the telephone and J.)
was the one  establishment I did get through. I love the old woodwork, clever suites called 'Buffalo Bill;, and such, and the sound of your footsteps creaking up old stairs and down old hallways.
Which is why I was glad we stayed at the Tuckered Out Inn where everything was quiet and quite simple in comparison.

It was early morning, I thought we were gonna bee line home. But then Padre veered to the Old Trail Town.

Once I was home, able to go through Padre's pics I got excited for J. to study more of this during his Idaho history year. Can you imagine meeting some of these characters?

Madre missed seeing Old Trail Town, too as she was pow-wowing with me in the car- so as she looked at the pics on the computer her ever optimistic, believing self couldn't believe this picture of fine looking young men could have been so bad.

"They look like fine men. Oh, that couldn't have been Butch Cassidy they look like upstanding individuals."

Mom, they robbed banks, trains- took off with horses and cattle.  Murdered. They had  highly concealed places  in the canyons that are the equivalent of today's Taliban, Ji-ha has. Of course they are dressed nicely for this picture. They could afford to buy nice clothes and live the high life. That was their motivation: The money and luxury.
And loose women from the expensive brothels!!

"You're right." she said with reluctance, saddened that these 'fine young outlaws' hadn't made better choices back then but I'm sure she is confident they have repented of their ways on the other side. And if they haven't they will one day meet her and probably have a turn about.

She's good to have around if you are a guilty party and could probably be a US government ambassador for one of the countries that we are not on good standing with in the political arena. She could make friends of us all before the day was out.

Or be on the bad guys good side.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

A Padre Vacation

This summer perty darn near came to an end without an "official" camp out: we'd not been on a "family camp out."

(i.e.  one involving me, Padre's camping gear, and more than 1 night)

Such as this pic from last year. Me. One night.
The whining from Jaden picked up speed when he saw pictures of me as a kid, crying on a hike somewhere in the Tetons. I was around the age of 6 or 7 when Padre thought I was big enough to have my very own back pack, carry a sleeping bag, mat, and my clothes into the 7 mile hike into Alaska Basin.
"Look," he said, pointing to the pictures. (which I will add later)
 "You at least had a childhood where you could camp, and freeze outside in the bear infested wilderness. What do I get? A bunch of sports camps, playing with my friends.

You got to do a paper route every day so you could buy your own clothes.What do I have to do? Mow lawns on occassion and save my money. Pay for things that I want. I didn't get to take cold showers outside by next to a picnic table every night before bed!
I don't even have my own sleeping bag.. " he  pointed to a pitiful pic of a sleeping bag hanging below my green Kelty aluminum framed pack and added: "look you are carrying yours up a mountain."
"How fair is that?" he harumffed.

Totally unfair.
I thought as the tortous event rekindled in my brain.
These pictures were only the begininng of what fueled his fire of ambition to nag and saw to it that we saw some more suffering before the summer was out.

 Before you feel too bad for him, please know he had slept in a tent on a Father/Son outing, played daily with his buddies, boated and waterski all over Gem Lake, fished, hiked and went on some of the coolest outings with his cub scout group, that I'm tempted to nominate his leaders to the
National Boy Scouts of
But I have to admit, every trailer pulling away from the curb pulled by the truck slowly trudging up the small hill that is our street coaxing the boat, motorbikes and 5th wheel in the direction of FUN did make my heart a bit sad and envious it wasn't us that was going out -
With family. With lots of time to spend fighting in the car with each other until you can settle into a spot without someone touching you and listen to your play list whilst gadgeting with your Ipad, and texting your friends/sweethearts like mad.
Not that I know what kids do these days on long excursions

As a family, we hadn't been able to forge a trip with these kind of nuances and J longed for the kind of extended camp out that, with Padre, involves forgetting necessary items. Or necessary items getting destroyed by the smaller folks and that item happens to be something very new or very old and very special. Jaden needed the Padre-type camping to seal in his memory for all time, to share with his children and instill in him the desire to buy or borrow equipment of Padre's to continue the tradition.

Jaden hadn't been able to come home this summer with millions of mosquito bites, a sunburn baked into his skin and smoke buried into the threads of his clothing and being.

He didn't get to see the daunting Grizzly Bear, in all its glory amongst its natural habitat.  Feel the emotions well up with excitement when visitors from around the world stop their car off to the side of the narrow National park road and peer into the pines to see a silver haired mad man running, or hopping on one foot, because he's sat down on the searing black poker stick seconds from being emerged from the fire pit, the charred marshmallow oozing down the back of his Wranglers.

Since this grey tipped Grizzly had not yet been seen, lots of over time work,
mom and I set our minds to creating a situation to pull off  the best camping trip with out involving a tent, cots or sleeping bags, and any fires whatsoever.

And do this as effortlessly and quickly before school,


This is what we came up with:

Don't let the grave of the man whose name became our destination fool ya.

A drive through the park, minus tents and Coleman lanterns, just the car beneath our feet and
a hotel awaiting our arrival in Cody, Wyoming was all us old folks could pull off.
In just two days.
Seemed easy enough while looking at a map. Pack some extra underclothes, a swimsuit.
And we are set.

Luckily, this trip didn't involve us taking a stage coach because immediately into the "vacation", it became apparent that leaving the city of IF, for me, wasn't such a good idea.
I know.

I should have looked back on my trips across town with Padre to Sam's Club or to run errands as a deterrent. I should have looked at how difficult it was to take the heavy kitchen trash out to the garbage on the side of the house.

 But it was our LAST attempt at a family vacation!
Sacrifices and plain denial had to be implemented as we tossed our luggage and sound judgement in the car.
Without going into a huge amount of detail of why it was so hard to go, I will just say that it wasn't until we reached Cody, that I really felt that I fit in by the way I walked and the locals did.
The pain I suffered also wasn't a deterrent to Padre's slow driving, pulling over for every sign along the way to show J, or one upping me on complaining.

 The standard Yellowstone Sign Picture just for pure torture.
(see top picture)
Dad, we already have several of these.
 I whined after enduring the two hours it took just to get to West Yellowstone.
"I know but the sign is new."
Padre knows because he frequently passes it to reach the businesses he serves for his work.

But once you have ONE of these, isn't it enough? I plead from the back of the seat.
"It is tradition."
Mom said, her voice trailing off into a forest of spindly pines.

It is.

And as an avid scrapbooker, history/journal keeper, I am the first to admit these moments are important.
 But, reader, what you need to understand is that we have several of these pics...

 from the SAME year -
And multiple Entrances.
After the traditional photo was taken with Padre's tri-pod, we piled back into the vehicle with some degree of hope that it wouldn't be too far to Cody from this point.

How wrong I was.

A beautiful geyser somewhere along the way.

Faintly, I recall going passed Norris and Canyon junction. But it was hard to tell as I was laying on my back, because inside, I felt akin to being cut by something like this saw below, but the jagged job was done on the inside by an uncertified Doctor from this time period.

Sitting up, I felt like I was riding my bike with this saw as a seat instead of the tractor seat.
Without even a doily for cushioning, I was in some serious

So I lay there,
in the back of the car, staring at the gray ceiling above me and fighting off
feeling like a pirate with scurvy minus Dramamine on the
high seas.

After reading this sign AFTER the trip, I wondered why I didn't just get in one of the springs like the Indians did to treat their wound and sickness. There are some new rules since the Shoshone used this practice.

So I'd swallow back the accumulating sickness, wipe my upper lip and brow of the sweat that was attempting to bring equilibrium back to my body as I felt every bump we passed over with quivering muscles all in the effort to get out there and do some good 'ol campin.

  Jaden erupted over the minutest details from the middle seat. Things like:
"Mom! Did you see that Mountain Goat?? Look it's trying to climb up that rocky ledge with its kid."

click, click, click.
he worked the camera from the middle seat.

I sat up and couldn't help but think: "Ah, how cute."
"Look at all these buffalo!" he shouted as a troupe off of Dances with Wolves panned out in front of us.
" It's like the olden days when the Indians had a whole valley full of buffalo to go after and shoot with their bows and arrows."
I nodded,  mildly impressed. Recalling all the buffalo herds I'd seen in my life with Padre.
With most kids back in school- I hate to give this tip- the drive was not crowded. It felt like we had the calm waters, lazy buffalo, Mountain Goat family and lone Moose to ourselves.
And though I jest about these things, create tall tales- this is what I wanted to see- my son taking in what I was able to take in as a child; the outdoors
and the wildlife.

(This is of a different moose than the one J. saw that day because we couldn't get a good shot of it. But still one taken in the park earlier in the spring.)

I would arrange my pillows so that I too could gaze at J. as he was enthralled with the beauty of Yellowstone.

And had to admit he was right.

It gets your heart beating for some reason.

I grew up being able to go to the Park, often, was healthy enough back then to complain about long walks around the geyser board walks, but J. never does.
Okay, back to the exaggerating, tall tale parts of the attempted "campin trip":
When you are not in the best of shape it can be a real struggle. Especially on those who are driving you to your destination....
(This is part of an old strip of cabins but don't let the dry, sagebrushed desert fool ya into thinking it's a bad destination. On the contrary!)
"Remind me to never bring her on trips."
Padre quipped to Mother as he crunched on some pig skins.
"Well,, I don't think she anticipated be nauseated, in pain and needing to stop so much on this trip."
"What's nauseating, is making a pit stop every time we get going down the road." Padre chimed and chuckled at his joke, inhaling some pigskin dust that made him erupt into a semi close asthma attack of sorts.
What he said was very true. Pig skins and all. I did NOT want to visit every gas station, Park Ranger Station nor latrine from I.F. to Cody, Wyoming.
You don't set out on  a trip with those sorts of expectations.
Stopping to take in a mural or statue, yes.

Unless you have Crohns and in a flare- no.

Isn't this a stellar bust of John Colter?
Jaden, with the middle seat to himselfm happily snapped pictures of the wildlife, and the animals outside the car, too  despite our setbacks. He was pleased to get outta Dodge- even if it meant having to bring me,
 I found later that an infection amped itself up during the vacation which explained the low grade fever and extreme pain. It was a miracle that we made it, cause I would have caboshed any stops that were unnecessary, Like the road side signs that tell the stories and history of the surrounding area.
Luckily, Padre is stubborn and Jaden is sweet.

and oblivious to a degree of the real pain  it was and made those stops. Padre took pictures and read the signs that dabbled the road sides to all the way to Cody without paying too much attention to the moans from the back seat.
And I am so grateful because it brought the past alive to Jaden.
The occasional herd of buffalo roaming across the road, the backed up traffic made up of out of towners, that made you come face to face with a large headed bison standing nonchalantly next to our car, were all taken in stride.  
And I was glad I didn't need to "go" at any of these traffic jams.
Amazingly enough, we made it to Cody. We stayed in a hotel off the beaten path that was clean, affordable and even had a pool for Jaden to cool off in.
I hesitate to tell anyone about it, for fear they will spike their prices. But their hospitality and CLEANLINESS
forces me to reveal:

The Cody Legacy Inn.
The GEM of the entire trip:

This museum is amazing. Granted I only went inside to use the bathrooms a total of three times. But when I heard Jaden describe what he did, saw and then viewed the pictures from the camera-Oh, my.

 My teacher/history heart fluttered. The sad irony was that, just across the street was a hospital. They didn't take my insurance. The whole trip could have been different.(and added a couple thousand dollars to it) Jaden told me the museum had wheelchairs. But that was my problem. I could NOT even sit with my situation. Recall the ol saw from above.
It was a tragedy.
And I'm still trying to understand why it had to happen.
But listening to him tell all about it,
Oh! It was worth every bit.
I had visited the center almost 20 years ago but NOW they have renovated it and are still renovating
to make it one of the best museums to ever be built, in my opinion!
Please check it out!

Who can say they spent an evening walking around an Indian camp?

The movie:Night at the Museum must have been some inspiration because once I saw these pics... wow!
Included  was an outdoor show with different birds that flew over the audience and did some other cool tricks. 
Below is Jaden using the interactive media that allowed him to hear the sounds of animals and view them in their habitats.

Heck, there was even a beaver lodge cross sectioned that stood upon a glass floor with real fish swimming beneath it!
Unfortunately, most of the rooms didn't allow pictures taken or else I could have really "sold" this museum.

After a day of J. enjoying this, and me in the car swatting away flies (there was a merciful breeze) we went back to the hotel and J.
dived into the pool while I sat and watched the sun go down, casting a pink hue against the rugged rocky cliffs jutting out of the ground as you enter Cody.
Earlier in the day they had been the sandy yellowish color that may have contributed to why the French guy called it the Rock Yellow River.

Talking with people from different countries around the pool was interesting and finding out what they like about the area. Which has felt like my back yard because Padre was always into taking us out to "camp" and take in all the history around these parts.

Don't get me wrong, I was ready to actually not dawdle around the next day, book it back to I.f. but Padre made sure J. saw and did the important stuff.

What kid doesn't want to Lasso? Ropes are good souvenirs and we are glad we didn't opt for the fake arrowhead in one of the shops at the Irma hotel. Because you can lasso in the country
or in town.

So we got our trip in. Now we are
School is back in Session.


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