"Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." Philippians 1:2
I would think by now, after 58 years of life, I would KNOW that the Triune God knows my every thought and need. Yet, I am continually surprised when He shows me He does.
This last week has been a roller coast week. A dear friend of Karyn's lost a baby who was a few short weeks of delivery. This friend has had a year that challenges any parent. My heart has been broken for her, but yet I tell her "Peace".
This morning I was reading the Issues, Etc. Facebook page. The Lutheran Pastors and theologians were posting about the various Christian beliefs. Calvin verses Lutheran. They use big words, I love words, but I was lost. Yet, I was getting a gist of it. My thought was, "Peace! Why can't we just get along?"
The answer is Sin. We can't get along. We might deceive ourselves that we have peace for a bit. The brokenness of the world will eventually intrude. When it does, it is time to search.
So, I opened my daily devotional (which isn't so daily for me) to today's readings. The first one was from Philippians 1:1, 2 "Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus, to all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the overseers and deacons. Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." What!!?!? That's it? A greeting? So I read the Psalm 85. It has a lot about righteousness, salvation, and peace. Faithfulness springs from the ground and righteousness looks down from heaven. I see the relationship of God and His people. He bestows His righteousness on us as we struggle to find peace. Okay, things are becoming clearer now.
I go on to the Gospel reading of the day. This is one of my favorites. "Peace I leave with you: My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." John 14:27. Jesus is speaking here - He is our righteousness, He is our peace. We will have a relative peace in the world at times. It doesn't take a longview of world history to see that people really can't have it for very long. It will be taken away by some one, some country, some thing. Our hearts will be troubled by this anger, this warring, this selfishness on this side of heaven. Yet, Jesus promises us that the Peace that passes understanding is possible. As a Christian, I need to take the longview and look heavenward. God is in control, He is my Righteousness and Deliverer, He will bring Peace that lasts. I rest in that promise and struggle to trust it. As a baby struggles in the arms of his parent and the parent gently rocks and shushes him, so God gently rocks and shushes me. "Peace I leave with you; My peace, I give to you." Thank you Lord Jesus for holding on to me and giving me your Peace. AMEN
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Thursday, September 15, 2011
The Hunter
I have known/been married to Tom since 1974. He is an avid outdoorsman and hunted nearly everything requiring a game license. Early on, I tried to be a hunter too. My first antelope took most of the day to bag but I did finally bring one down with a clean shot. I discovered if I keep my eyes open when I squeeze the trigger it works better.
My second antelope was when Karyn was a baby and David was about 3 years old. He took his little play rifle along. Tom spotted a nice little buck taking a nap alongside a hill. We all got out of the truck, walked carefully and spotted the antelope. I took aim, David took aim, we pulled are respective triggers at the same times and the antelope was bagged. David was quite excited about his "first kill" and even to this day he argues with me about who shot that antelope.
My best friend, Lee, and I were taking a breaking while the guys were beating the brush for deer. A buck came peeking out of a grove trees. Lee told me to take the shot. I did, hit it, it turned and went back into the grove of trees and fell at the feet of the guys. Fortunately - they got to gut it.
I have hunted now and then since then but mostly I just tag along and enjoy the "hunt" the "kill" isn't my favorite part. This past summer, Tom was getting his hunting licenses in order. He asked if he should buy an antelope license for me. I think the devil took hold of me and answered, "yes!" I tried to take possession of my mouth and change my mind but Tom's obvious joy at my affirmative answer kept my mouth closed. He was like a kid in a candy shop - I couldn't take that joy away from him.
His attempts to encourage me to go to the shooting range with him, fell on deaf ears though. I wasn't too concerned about really shooting anything. By having a license I could have a rifle and if something dumb came my way, I'd probably be good enough to bag it. After all I hadn't spent hours on the shooting range before and I was successful (with some guidance by more successful hunters.)
Opening day was fast approaching. We have a number of rifles and Tom asked which one I wanted to use. I said "mine". The .243 is actually mine, Tom bought it for me and it is the one I used before. However, my eyes are doing weird things and when I compared the scopes on that one with the new Thompson Center 7mm-08 scope and it was better for me. So I shrugged and said, "Sure, I'll try the new one." And promptly forgot about it.
Tom's daughters, Kristie and Lorie, dropped by one evening and visited with us. Tom was busy loading shells at the dining room table. Yeah, it's his house, too. He was loading lots of shells. Kristie and Lorie noted this and asked what he was doing. I really didn't know either that he was loading shells for my gun. He was on shell #25 when this conversation took place.
I quipped, "Why, so many? I only need 1." Lorie and Kristie howled.
Opening day - September 10. On September 8th, we left for the family cabin which would be our base.
We got to the cabin on Thursday evening. Had a nice meal of bacon wrapped, marinated in OJ doves that Tom barbequed. Yummy! We played a few games of cribbage and headed to bed. In the morning we got up and went scouting. We called long-time friends - Dallas and VivienneTalbott who now lease the land we wanted to hunt on. Vivienne was busy but invited us to dinner, and she told us to hunt up Dallas. We found Dallas with no problem - got permission to hunt, exchanged a few pleasantries and hugs and were on our way.
Tom insisted I needed some target practice and since I can't seem to hit anything when I'm on the shooting range (that's why I don't go), he was probably right. We found a place on the Forest Service and practiced with the 22. When I sit on my rump and use my knees for a rest, I do pretty good hitting what I aim at. Then it was time to get out the big rifle. No problemo. I'm a dynamo!
We decided to explore the woods a bit and found what looked like an abandoned campsite. There was a tent on its top, a very nice sleeping bag out in the woods, a three shelf bookcase, a plastic patio loveseat, fireworks in a campfire ring and more junk just scattered around. This didn't seem right to us. We got the coordinates (but no pictures, dumb us) and thought we might report it to the Forest Service. As we were headed down the main road, a dilapidated van was headed up. I told Tom that looked like just the kind of vehicle that would belong to such a campsite. Tom doubted me.
We pulled off onto another dirt road for a bit of lunch and one more shooting lesson. As Tom is taking aim, I hear a vehicle coming up the road. Guess what? It's the dilapidated van. The young man waves and smiles at us so we wave back but as he passes us, I look in the back of the van and see the 3 shelf bookcase! Strange. Tom finishes shooting and we decide this is just too weird so we go follow him and see he is parked off the side of the road. We take down his license plate and head out to the main road.
We both decided we're curious as to whether this van did go to the original campsite. So we go back. Yep, most of the stuff is gone and now there is a fire burning in the fire ring. The fireworks are off to the side but unlit matches are in the fire ring.
The fire is mostly smoldering but it is still a live fire and a bunch of junk the guy didn't want to take is burning slowing in the ring. We do take pictures this time and Tom finds some water and pours it on the fire.
We are now mad! So we go to the Centennial Information Center that is closed but 3 US forest people are working on it, taking down the old getting ready for the new. We tell them what we know and they call their FPO - Fire Protection Officer. He shows up, we tell him what we know and promise to send him the pictures when we had access to the internet. We kind of want to be his posse but he doesn't invite us along so we sadly head up to the cabin to get ready for our dinner date with the Talbotts.
The Talbotts have a beautiful spot at the foot of Sheep mountain. Dallas is a workaholic after he works all day at the ranch he comes home and is turning the backyard into a beautiful outdoor patio/garden area. It was too chilly to stay out there (darn!)l so we head inside and exchanged stories and health histories because that is what old people do. Dallas bbqs some lovely beefsteak and Vivienne put on quite a dinner for us. Gotta love those ranch wives, they sure know how to cook!
Charlie, the dog, is our kid now, so he just goes along with us and rarely complains. He was a digging machine up at the cabin. Whereas at home, he'd rather be underfoot all day, up at the cabin he'd rather just check in at supper time. He generally came when called. At the Talbotts he hung out in the pickup and was happy to reclaim his spot - the front passenger seat.
We were up early for opening day and on the land before sunup. We heard shots just as the sun rose. We saw those folks on the other side of the fence. One hunter said he took a shot but it was too far away. We spooked up lots of antelope and they all ran up the side of Sheep Mountain. Tom found a good spot for me and said he'd take a hike and see if he could push them down to me. While he was doing that another herd came up behind me. They were kind of far and I just saw does. Does are okay but it's hard to tell if they are does or fawns so I waited to see if they'd come in closer. Then the herd on the mountain headed towards me. A number of bucks in that group. They get closer and I have one spotted but I'm not sure just how far back Tom is and I can't see him. Then they start moving and I'm not sure how much to lead on a moving animal so I let them go. But the other does are closer now so I take aim and shoot and miss. Oh well. I guess I'm not as good as I think I am, I still need instruction.
Tom comes back = he also took a shot but no animal. He's all smiles because he watched me through the binoculars and says he could tell what was going through my mind. He pretty much did. That's what happens when you've been married a long time.
We go over to the leased ground and look it over. Plenty of antelope but pretty far away and kind of stirred up so we are making our plans when this dumb buck comes over the hill. He stops sideways and looks at us. We move slowly and look at him. He just stands there like the welcome committee. I get out of the truck and plant myself over the hood and take aim. He turns his chest to me. Hmm, not sure if I should try a chest shot or not. The truck is still running and I guess Tom is telling me to wait until he turns but I don't hear him. I figure I better take the shot, aim at the middle of his chest,- the buck's not Tom's - pull the trigger - kawaam and kathunk and and the antelope quickly turns over the hill. Tom asked where I hit him and I said the chest, and he said why didn't I wait for him to turn and I said, " I dunno."
We wait for a bit, because we know I broke the buck's leg. Then we drive towards where he ran. Conveniently, he is lying up against the bank of a road and he is dead. I did hit him in the chest but the bullet went through and broke his shoulder and pretty much pulverized one shoulder's meat. We take pictures on the camera and the phone camera- gotta brag, you know.
Tom is getting ready to do the gutting stuff, cuz I don't do that. A white pickup turns on the road. We are sort of in the middle of the road. We approach the truck to tell him we will get out of his way when he says, "Who gave you permission to hunt this land?" I immediately respond, "Dallas Talbott" Tom says, "Who wants to know?" The fella whips out a badge and says, "Deputy soanso of the Albany County Sheriff's Dept." Gulp. Well we know we have permission but we don't have written permission. We tell him again and his name finally registers with me, "Are you Rory?" I ask. He affirms this. Rory is Dallas' son and we met him when he was a snot nosed kid. Anyway all ends up well and he tells us to check in with him or his wife next time we hunt because he needs to know who is hunting. We agree even though Dallas never said anything about that. Since Rory and wife live on the house that is part of this leased ground it isn't a big deal.
Tom and I finish prepping my "goat". I do watch and try to take lessons and help here and there. We get it loaded up. Look around for another antelope - it's getting hot and they are kind of skittish now so we decide to get my goat up to the cabin where it is cool and take a break. Antelope and "goat" are the same thing just in case you didn't know.
We take a nap, have lunch, do a few chores around the cabin - I paint around the new door. Tom fills the marmot hole with cement, we play some cribbage, visit with the cabin neighbors have supper and go to bed.
On 9/11 we got up a bit later cuz we didn't want to wake up Rory's wife too early and let her know we'd be on the property. But we were still out the door before 7. We headed down Towner Lake road and had to slow up for the Moose parade. There were 3 of them trotting down the road. I told Tom that a cabin trip wouldn't be successful if we didn't see moose from now on.
We should've left a little earlier because going east on the road is blinding when the sun hits the horizon, however, we didn't run into anyone or another moose.
Tom stopped at the house and got permission to hunt. The gate was locked so we were told to go into another gate. Wouldn't you know there was a dumb as a post buck standing out there in that pasture. We were far enough away from the road, so Tom got out, situated his rifle on his shooting sticks (I didn't need those) took aim and shot. And MISSED! The buck took off and headed toward the does and fawns who didn't seem disturbed by any of this action at all. Well, Tom decided that he forgot to sight in his rifle to he grabbed "my rifle" aka "Antelope Killer". We got a bit a closer and Tom tried again. He shot at the buck who was standing sideways but was farther away than mine had been. Tom hit him, this time and the antelope went down.
The herd of does and fawns could care less -fickle females and children. We were able to drive right up to buck and throw him in the back of the truck. We weren't far from a dump sight so we drove there and gutted him and then went back to the cabin to finish the job. All this by 8 in the morning. Hardly seems like a hunt but I'm not complaining.
Tom spent most of the morning taking care of his goat and I cleaned up breakfast - took a walk over to the snow that is still behind the cabins. I sccoped some into a container to keep our food cool. I can't believe there is still snow that close to the cabin! So we just kind of puttered in the afternoon and visited with cabin owners - a nice relaxing time at the cabin.
On Monday morning we did our chores, got the cabin cleaned up, our stuff loaded up and headed out. No moose parade this time. We decided we were curious enough about the weird campsight and wanted to check it out. So we did - the fireworks were gone but it was still junky. Then we decided to see how much the van guy dumped at his new parking spot so we went there, too. He wasn't parked there so we walked into the woods and found quite the compound - outhouses, shelters, tables - whiskey JUGS on the table, what a mess but spooky. We didn't see anyone so we got out of there - took the coordinates and left.
We stopped at the Forest Service office in Laramie and gave them the new info. We ran into the FPO we talked to on Friday. He said he had picked up the fireworks and then found the guy in the van and took pictures of the license plates when the man suddenly appeared out of the woods. He said it was creepy. I don't think the FPO did anything - he's a bit wet behind the ears. Anyway by the time we got home, we got a call from the Enforcement Officer asking for more info. I wonder if we will hear anymore about it.
Our friends, Barb and Ted, have a place that family and friends can processes game. We are considered friends. It works great - very handy! So we got it all done in an afternoon. Kind of easy to do when 3 shoulders were destroyed by our fine marksmanship. It is now in the freezer and what we have sampled so far has been very tasty. I keep hearing that folks don't like antelope. I always have - maybe it just tastes better when you are the one hunting and processing it?
My second antelope was when Karyn was a baby and David was about 3 years old. He took his little play rifle along. Tom spotted a nice little buck taking a nap alongside a hill. We all got out of the truck, walked carefully and spotted the antelope. I took aim, David took aim, we pulled are respective triggers at the same times and the antelope was bagged. David was quite excited about his "first kill" and even to this day he argues with me about who shot that antelope.
My best friend, Lee, and I were taking a breaking while the guys were beating the brush for deer. A buck came peeking out of a grove trees. Lee told me to take the shot. I did, hit it, it turned and went back into the grove of trees and fell at the feet of the guys. Fortunately - they got to gut it.
I have hunted now and then since then but mostly I just tag along and enjoy the "hunt" the "kill" isn't my favorite part. This past summer, Tom was getting his hunting licenses in order. He asked if he should buy an antelope license for me. I think the devil took hold of me and answered, "yes!" I tried to take possession of my mouth and change my mind but Tom's obvious joy at my affirmative answer kept my mouth closed. He was like a kid in a candy shop - I couldn't take that joy away from him.
His attempts to encourage me to go to the shooting range with him, fell on deaf ears though. I wasn't too concerned about really shooting anything. By having a license I could have a rifle and if something dumb came my way, I'd probably be good enough to bag it. After all I hadn't spent hours on the shooting range before and I was successful (with some guidance by more successful hunters.)
Opening day was fast approaching. We have a number of rifles and Tom asked which one I wanted to use. I said "mine". The .243 is actually mine, Tom bought it for me and it is the one I used before. However, my eyes are doing weird things and when I compared the scopes on that one with the new Thompson Center 7mm-08 scope and it was better for me. So I shrugged and said, "Sure, I'll try the new one." And promptly forgot about it.
Tom's daughters, Kristie and Lorie, dropped by one evening and visited with us. Tom was busy loading shells at the dining room table. Yeah, it's his house, too. He was loading lots of shells. Kristie and Lorie noted this and asked what he was doing. I really didn't know either that he was loading shells for my gun. He was on shell #25 when this conversation took place.
I quipped, "Why, so many? I only need 1." Lorie and Kristie howled.
Opening day - September 10. On September 8th, we left for the family cabin which would be our base.
We got to the cabin on Thursday evening. Had a nice meal of bacon wrapped, marinated in OJ doves that Tom barbequed. Yummy! We played a few games of cribbage and headed to bed. In the morning we got up and went scouting. We called long-time friends - Dallas and VivienneTalbott who now lease the land we wanted to hunt on. Vivienne was busy but invited us to dinner, and she told us to hunt up Dallas. We found Dallas with no problem - got permission to hunt, exchanged a few pleasantries and hugs and were on our way.
Tom insisted I needed some target practice and since I can't seem to hit anything when I'm on the shooting range (that's why I don't go), he was probably right. We found a place on the Forest Service and practiced with the 22. When I sit on my rump and use my knees for a rest, I do pretty good hitting what I aim at. Then it was time to get out the big rifle. No problemo. I'm a dynamo!
We decided to explore the woods a bit and found what looked like an abandoned campsite. There was a tent on its top, a very nice sleeping bag out in the woods, a three shelf bookcase, a plastic patio loveseat, fireworks in a campfire ring and more junk just scattered around. This didn't seem right to us. We got the coordinates (but no pictures, dumb us) and thought we might report it to the Forest Service. As we were headed down the main road, a dilapidated van was headed up. I told Tom that looked like just the kind of vehicle that would belong to such a campsite. Tom doubted me.
We pulled off onto another dirt road for a bit of lunch and one more shooting lesson. As Tom is taking aim, I hear a vehicle coming up the road. Guess what? It's the dilapidated van. The young man waves and smiles at us so we wave back but as he passes us, I look in the back of the van and see the 3 shelf bookcase! Strange. Tom finishes shooting and we decide this is just too weird so we go follow him and see he is parked off the side of the road. We take down his license plate and head out to the main road.
We both decided we're curious as to whether this van did go to the original campsite. So we go back. Yep, most of the stuff is gone and now there is a fire burning in the fire ring. The fireworks are off to the side but unlit matches are in the fire ring.
The fire is mostly smoldering but it is still a live fire and a bunch of junk the guy didn't want to take is burning slowing in the ring. We do take pictures this time and Tom finds some water and pours it on the fire.We are now mad! So we go to the Centennial Information Center that is closed but 3 US forest people are working on it, taking down the old getting ready for the new. We tell them what we know and they call their FPO - Fire Protection Officer. He shows up, we tell him what we know and promise to send him the pictures when we had access to the internet. We kind of want to be his posse but he doesn't invite us along so we sadly head up to the cabin to get ready for our dinner date with the Talbotts.
The Talbotts have a beautiful spot at the foot of Sheep mountain. Dallas is a workaholic after he works all day at the ranch he comes home and is turning the backyard into a beautiful outdoor patio/garden area. It was too chilly to stay out there (darn!)l so we head inside and exchanged stories and health histories because that is what old people do. Dallas bbqs some lovely beefsteak and Vivienne put on quite a dinner for us. Gotta love those ranch wives, they sure know how to cook!
Charlie, the dog, is our kid now, so he just goes along with us and rarely complains. He was a digging machine up at the cabin. Whereas at home, he'd rather be underfoot all day, up at the cabin he'd rather just check in at supper time. He generally came when called. At the Talbotts he hung out in the pickup and was happy to reclaim his spot - the front passenger seat.
We were up early for opening day and on the land before sunup. We heard shots just as the sun rose. We saw those folks on the other side of the fence. One hunter said he took a shot but it was too far away. We spooked up lots of antelope and they all ran up the side of Sheep Mountain. Tom found a good spot for me and said he'd take a hike and see if he could push them down to me. While he was doing that another herd came up behind me. They were kind of far and I just saw does. Does are okay but it's hard to tell if they are does or fawns so I waited to see if they'd come in closer. Then the herd on the mountain headed towards me. A number of bucks in that group. They get closer and I have one spotted but I'm not sure just how far back Tom is and I can't see him. Then they start moving and I'm not sure how much to lead on a moving animal so I let them go. But the other does are closer now so I take aim and shoot and miss. Oh well. I guess I'm not as good as I think I am, I still need instruction.Tom comes back = he also took a shot but no animal. He's all smiles because he watched me through the binoculars and says he could tell what was going through my mind. He pretty much did. That's what happens when you've been married a long time.
We go over to the leased ground and look it over. Plenty of antelope but pretty far away and kind of stirred up so we are making our plans when this dumb buck comes over the hill. He stops sideways and looks at us. We move slowly and look at him. He just stands there like the welcome committee. I get out of the truck and plant myself over the hood and take aim. He turns his chest to me. Hmm, not sure if I should try a chest shot or not. The truck is still running and I guess Tom is telling me to wait until he turns but I don't hear him. I figure I better take the shot, aim at the middle of his chest,- the buck's not Tom's - pull the trigger - kawaam and kathunk and and the antelope quickly turns over the hill. Tom asked where I hit him and I said the chest, and he said why didn't I wait for him to turn and I said, " I dunno."
We wait for a bit, because we know I broke the buck's leg. Then we drive towards where he ran. Conveniently, he is lying up against the bank of a road and he is dead. I did hit him in the chest but the bullet went through and broke his shoulder and pretty much pulverized one shoulder's meat. We take pictures on the camera and the phone camera- gotta brag, you know.
Tom is getting ready to do the gutting stuff, cuz I don't do that. A white pickup turns on the road. We are sort of in the middle of the road. We approach the truck to tell him we will get out of his way when he says, "Who gave you permission to hunt this land?" I immediately respond, "Dallas Talbott" Tom says, "Who wants to know?" The fella whips out a badge and says, "Deputy soanso of the Albany County Sheriff's Dept." Gulp. Well we know we have permission but we don't have written permission. We tell him again and his name finally registers with me, "Are you Rory?" I ask. He affirms this. Rory is Dallas' son and we met him when he was a snot nosed kid. Anyway all ends up well and he tells us to check in with him or his wife next time we hunt because he needs to know who is hunting. We agree even though Dallas never said anything about that. Since Rory and wife live on the house that is part of this leased ground it isn't a big deal.Tom and I finish prepping my "goat". I do watch and try to take lessons and help here and there. We get it loaded up. Look around for another antelope - it's getting hot and they are kind of skittish now so we decide to get my goat up to the cabin where it is cool and take a break. Antelope and "goat" are the same thing just in case you didn't know.
We take a nap, have lunch, do a few chores around the cabin - I paint around the new door. Tom fills the marmot hole with cement, we play some cribbage, visit with the cabin neighbors have supper and go to bed.
On 9/11 we got up a bit later cuz we didn't want to wake up Rory's wife too early and let her know we'd be on the property. But we were still out the door before 7. We headed down Towner Lake road and had to slow up for the Moose parade. There were 3 of them trotting down the road. I told Tom that a cabin trip wouldn't be successful if we didn't see moose from now on.
We should've left a little earlier because going east on the road is blinding when the sun hits the horizon, however, we didn't run into anyone or another moose.
Tom stopped at the house and got permission to hunt. The gate was locked so we were told to go into another gate. Wouldn't you know there was a dumb as a post buck standing out there in that pasture. We were far enough away from the road, so Tom got out, situated his rifle on his shooting sticks (I didn't need those) took aim and shot. And MISSED! The buck took off and headed toward the does and fawns who didn't seem disturbed by any of this action at all. Well, Tom decided that he forgot to sight in his rifle to he grabbed "my rifle" aka "Antelope Killer". We got a bit a closer and Tom tried again. He shot at the buck who was standing sideways but was farther away than mine had been. Tom hit him, this time and the antelope went down.
The herd of does and fawns could care less -fickle females and children. We were able to drive right up to buck and throw him in the back of the truck. We weren't far from a dump sight so we drove there and gutted him and then went back to the cabin to finish the job. All this by 8 in the morning. Hardly seems like a hunt but I'm not complaining.
Tom spent most of the morning taking care of his goat and I cleaned up breakfast - took a walk over to the snow that is still behind the cabins. I sccoped some into a container to keep our food cool. I can't believe there is still snow that close to the cabin! So we just kind of puttered in the afternoon and visited with cabin owners - a nice relaxing time at the cabin.
On Monday morning we did our chores, got the cabin cleaned up, our stuff loaded up and headed out. No moose parade this time. We decided we were curious enough about the weird campsight and wanted to check it out. So we did - the fireworks were gone but it was still junky. Then we decided to see how much the van guy dumped at his new parking spot so we went there, too. He wasn't parked there so we walked into the woods and found quite the compound - outhouses, shelters, tables - whiskey JUGS on the table, what a mess but spooky. We didn't see anyone so we got out of there - took the coordinates and left.
We stopped at the Forest Service office in Laramie and gave them the new info. We ran into the FPO we talked to on Friday. He said he had picked up the fireworks and then found the guy in the van and took pictures of the license plates when the man suddenly appeared out of the woods. He said it was creepy. I don't think the FPO did anything - he's a bit wet behind the ears. Anyway by the time we got home, we got a call from the Enforcement Officer asking for more info. I wonder if we will hear anymore about it.
Our friends, Barb and Ted, have a place that family and friends can processes game. We are considered friends. It works great - very handy! So we got it all done in an afternoon. Kind of easy to do when 3 shoulders were destroyed by our fine marksmanship. It is now in the freezer and what we have sampled so far has been very tasty. I keep hearing that folks don't like antelope. I always have - maybe it just tastes better when you are the one hunting and processing it?
Monday, July 18, 2011
1971-2011 40 Years!!!!
One of my classmates remarked that you should attend high school reunions not to relive high school but to put it past you. I concur. Each reunion I have attended has given me insights into my classmates. At the 30th I finally apologized to a now middle-aged man with whom I had agreed to go on date with, just to turn him down a few days later. We teased each other about that at this reunion but I think the whole event will be bittersweet for both of us. However, he did marry the girl who replaced me, another classmate. I kind of hated her that whole senior year which is too bad because I really like her now.
If you have bad memories of high school or think your classmates were more popular, more self confident, or more self determined than you ever were, maybe just put that away. I talked to many of those classmates this time and they were just as self-conscience about themselves as I was. Maybe they just knew how to cover it up better. It seems 40 years later, we are all willing to forget the awkward moments of high school, remember the fun times and just be comfortable in our skin this time. I was fortunate to get to hear some life stories and many of my classmates have had hard challenges to hurdle. Yet, they seem to have come out on the other side, richer, wiser, and more compassionate than ever.
Thank you, classmates that showed up, you have made me wiser, richer in relationships and more understanding of life. For those of you who didn't show up...think about it, I hear we are getting together in 5 years time. I hope you can make it.
If you have bad memories of high school or think your classmates were more popular, more self confident, or more self determined than you ever were, maybe just put that away. I talked to many of those classmates this time and they were just as self-conscience about themselves as I was. Maybe they just knew how to cover it up better. It seems 40 years later, we are all willing to forget the awkward moments of high school, remember the fun times and just be comfortable in our skin this time. I was fortunate to get to hear some life stories and many of my classmates have had hard challenges to hurdle. Yet, they seem to have come out on the other side, richer, wiser, and more compassionate than ever.
Thank you, classmates that showed up, you have made me wiser, richer in relationships and more understanding of life. For those of you who didn't show up...think about it, I hear we are getting together in 5 years time. I hope you can make it.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Seasonal Changes Part 2
Much has happened since the last entry in this blog. Several times I started to write about my fall and winter but I was too busy trying to figure it out. A simple update. In October, 2010, it was discovered I had a very large cyst growing off my ovary and it wasn't looking good. The blood work cancer marker, CA125, was 65 - cut off is 35 - it wasn't looking good at all. I had to go to Denver to see an oncologist/gynecologist. Oncology is a pretty scary word. Fortunately, I was able to get in to do the surgery quickly so I didn't have much of a chance to panic.
It did end up being atypical cells and was staged as a 1a cancer - benign, but I have to have 6 month follow ups for 5 years. I was recovering nicely from that surgery when I started feeling really crappy. It turns out I developed abdominal abscesses that had to be drained via catheters inserted through my gluteus maximus and when that wasn't doing the job, another through my my abdomen. It worked and all is again well. I had my first 6 month follow up and my CA125 cancer marker was a 12.
So now it is spring. The weather is warming up, the wind is breezing instead of blowing. Things are turning green and the bulbs I planted in October are springing to life. We haven't taken many trips except to the East to see Karyn and family, to the West to see my mother and some friends and a trip South to see David. Not the longed for winter trip to Arizona. We are making plans to get there for November dove hunting though.
Our spring will bring the family together for a wedding. Our grand-daughter (by Tom's daughter, Kristie) is getting married in April. Looks like all the siblings will get to be there. It has been awhile since everyone gathered and we have added a few great-grandsons to the mix. Then Fishing Season is right around the corner and Tom is hoping to stay healthy enough to get his fill of fishing which means we will be eating lots of walleye.
Summertime plans aren't fleshed out but my 40th! class reunion will be in July. How did that happen? I remember when my dad talked about going to his 40th and I wondered how many of his classmates would be still alive. My classmates look pretty good unless their Facebook pages are lying. Getting pre-re-acquainted via Facebook has been great fun and I am looking forward to seeing these folks face to face.
Through all these seasonal changes I have been blessed with a caring husband who has stood at the ready to do whatever it took to keep me healthy. My children have been in and out making sure I'm okay, too. My friends and family have upheld me in prayer and made sure my humor stayed intact. I know God's hand has been upon me even when I was at my lowest. And now as Spring is beginning, I look forward to the Lenten season. I get to ponder that God loved me so much that He sent His one and only Son that if I believe in Him I shall never die but have eternal life. Thank you, God!
It did end up being atypical cells and was staged as a 1a cancer - benign, but I have to have 6 month follow ups for 5 years. I was recovering nicely from that surgery when I started feeling really crappy. It turns out I developed abdominal abscesses that had to be drained via catheters inserted through my gluteus maximus and when that wasn't doing the job, another through my my abdomen. It worked and all is again well. I had my first 6 month follow up and my CA125 cancer marker was a 12.
So now it is spring. The weather is warming up, the wind is breezing instead of blowing. Things are turning green and the bulbs I planted in October are springing to life. We haven't taken many trips except to the East to see Karyn and family, to the West to see my mother and some friends and a trip South to see David. Not the longed for winter trip to Arizona. We are making plans to get there for November dove hunting though.
Our spring will bring the family together for a wedding. Our grand-daughter (by Tom's daughter, Kristie) is getting married in April. Looks like all the siblings will get to be there. It has been awhile since everyone gathered and we have added a few great-grandsons to the mix. Then Fishing Season is right around the corner and Tom is hoping to stay healthy enough to get his fill of fishing which means we will be eating lots of walleye.
Summertime plans aren't fleshed out but my 40th! class reunion will be in July. How did that happen? I remember when my dad talked about going to his 40th and I wondered how many of his classmates would be still alive. My classmates look pretty good unless their Facebook pages are lying. Getting pre-re-acquainted via Facebook has been great fun and I am looking forward to seeing these folks face to face.
Through all these seasonal changes I have been blessed with a caring husband who has stood at the ready to do whatever it took to keep me healthy. My children have been in and out making sure I'm okay, too. My friends and family have upheld me in prayer and made sure my humor stayed intact. I know God's hand has been upon me even when I was at my lowest. And now as Spring is beginning, I look forward to the Lenten season. I get to ponder that God loved me so much that He sent His one and only Son that if I believe in Him I shall never die but have eternal life. Thank you, God!
Friday, September 10, 2010
Seasonal Changes
I started my New Year's resolution 9 months late. Kind of like a pregnancy...had to let the seed take root and come to fruition 9 months later. I started a weight training regimin. I did this years ago and saw good results. I can do this at home with my very own weight bench. It has been kind of fun even though various muscle groups are in states of ache.
I do this in my upstairs room of my 2 story home. I get to look out on the cornfield behind my home. When I started this journey the field was a sea of green with sparkles of gold. Watching the wind play across the tops of the corn is as delightful as watching the ocean. Thank you, David, for pointing that out to me!
Yesterday, as I looked out, I could see some of the corn was maturing - turning gold! It came as a big surprise to me that "field" corn isn't picked green - it has to mature and dry out. Then is is harvested and stored in silos until needed. We have an ethynol plant in Torrington so some of this corn might feed our cars bellies instead of cow's bellies.
Today as I was grunting through my weights I looked out and overnight the mostly green field is now gold with bits of green! Wow, that happened fast! When it is time to mature in the corn world it seems to do so overnight. Always learning something new.
I do this in my upstairs room of my 2 story home. I get to look out on the cornfield behind my home. When I started this journey the field was a sea of green with sparkles of gold. Watching the wind play across the tops of the corn is as delightful as watching the ocean. Thank you, David, for pointing that out to me!
Yesterday, as I looked out, I could see some of the corn was maturing - turning gold! It came as a big surprise to me that "field" corn isn't picked green - it has to mature and dry out. Then is is harvested and stored in silos until needed. We have an ethynol plant in Torrington so some of this corn might feed our cars bellies instead of cow's bellies.
Today as I was grunting through my weights I looked out and overnight the mostly green field is now gold with bits of green! Wow, that happened fast! When it is time to mature in the corn world it seems to do so overnight. Always learning something new.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
This Wyoming
I am not a Wyoming native. I was born in Colorado. A few months after my birth, we moved to Wyoming. My dad worked the oil field so we moved at least once a year. By age 8, we were mostly in Wyoming so I consider Wyoming my home.
UNTIL: After 18 years of marriage, my husband moved his family to Littleton, Colorado. I wasn’t sure I had the sophistication for big city stuff but after a few years, I could handle traffic and annoying drivers with the best of them. I was enjoying big city living.
UNTIL: My husband retired, the kids moved out and hubby was longing for home – Wyoming. He was a native and except for a few years in his childhood and the 9 years we spent in Denver; Wyoming is where he belonged. I begged to stay in Denver Metro, I loved the front range weather and the airport that can take me anywhere I want to go without great expense. Tom found a place in Wyoming where the weather is mild and there was an airport just 40 minutes away. I caved and we moved to Torrington, Wyoming.
It’s been over 6 years now and I have discovered that I do have the character it takes to live in Wyoming. Torrington still has harsh winds and conveniences aren’t just down the street. Yes, I can fly out of Scottsbluff, NE but the times don’t often match with the connecting flights out of Denver and it does cost more.
STILL: There are days in Wyoming that take your breath away. My city friends come to visit us and can’t believe the vastness of the skies and the emptiness of the horizons. I say it is scenery to cleanse your visual palette. After living in the busy-ness of a city, the stillness and emptiness gives your visual acuity a rest. Your auditory acuity gets a rest, too, because you don’t hear a lot of traffic. Instead, you can hear the geese honking overhead, maybe a coyote howling in the distance, and the crickets chirping at night.
The night skies generally twinkle brightly with endless stars, the sunrises (not that I really see many of those) and the sunsets glow with pinks, reds, oranges and purples, each one unique. It is those moments that make up for the times the wind blows endlessly and the blizzards or the dirt storms make traveling hazardous.
We try to take in the wonderful days of Wyoming and appreciate everyone. Recently, we were camped near Glendo Reservoir. This body of water is famous for it’s walleye fishing and often you have to share the space with half of Colorado! During the week, though it is pretty quiet with fewer people. This year, 2010, it is even quieter because Glendo flooded and messed with the walleye. Fishing isn’t so great this year. However, my husband and I gave it a good try. During the morning it was cool but calm. We saw 3 other boats on the water. There was a light breeze, enough to rough up the water just enough. Clouds were dancing across the sky and we could see Laramie Peak playing peek-a-boo with the hills surrounding Glendo. We weren’t catching fish but I was enjoying the quiet, the view, and watching the pelicans doing their aerial acrobats. What a wonderful day in Wyoming!
The next evening, Tom and I went out to check on evening fishing. Maybe we were hitting the wrong time of day. The breeze was a bit stiffer and anybody else in any other part of the world would have called it windy but in Wyoming it was just breezy. We found a spot on the lake that was out of the worst of it. We got our poles rigged and in the water and were quietly trolling along the shoreline enjoying the evening. I was wishing we’d brought a bottle of wine and cheese and crackers to enjoy this evening even more. Yet, even as those thoughts crossed my mind, Tom spotted a couple of buck deer near the water’s edge. We rounded the corner of a cove and saw 3 more. Delightful! Another wonderful day in Wyoming.
I didn’t think I had enough character to live in Wyoming again. I miss many things about my years in the city, but it is rare that a person can experience the wonderfulness of Wyoming as often as we do. And it’s the character building days that drive the riffraff back to the “civilized” states from which they hail. As a Wyomingite, I'm okay with that.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Thanks, Charlie Dog
Charlie Dog
It all started with my daughter, Karyn’s, love of critters. She had some wonderful success training our knucklehead Boykin Spaniel, Tip. 4H fine tuned those skills. Tip, alas, is no more but other dogs entered our lives before Karyn struck out on her own. She owned a Basenji, a wonderfully, crazy dog that I am truly relieved belonged entirely to her. Finally she settled on a little Brittany. Her main competition in 4H dog obedience was a couple of Brittanys. We knew of their kind temperament, a perfect match for a young, growing family with kids. Aida, the Brittany, was a pleasure to be around.
Karyn, with family and dog in tow, went to visit her brother, our son, David. He, too, was quite impressed with the Brittany temperament. When he began looking for a dog, he thought he’d start with a Brittany. That took him to Brittany rescue. He was fine with adopting an “older” dog, but instead one of the Brittanys had a litter of pups. He adopted on of them – Charlie.
Charlie joined David, almost two years ago. He was shorter haired than most but had the Brittany pink nose and the white coat scattered with orange markings. As Charlie grew, he started looking less like a Brittany and more like an English pointer – except for his docked tail and pink nose.
David and his girlfriend were quite consistent in training Charlie so he became a very well behaved dog. Life changes and David had to move from his house with a yard to an apartment with no yard. He went from employment that demanded his weekends but left his weekdays mostly free, to just the opposite. It didn’t look like Charlie was going to fit into this life style very well.
I don’t want dogs. I love dogs but I am at a time in my life when I don’t really want to care for critters. I don’t like picking up poop, I don’t like vacuuming dog hair, and I don’t like nagging people to take care of their pets. Well, I caved. Rather than David finding someone else to take care of Charlie, I said we’d foster him. Karyn was the logical choice for caring for Charlie, as he and Aida were great pals. However, Karyn had adopted another Brittany. 3 dogs, a bird, numerous fish, 2 boys, and full load of college class work seemed to be on the verge of overload even for a critter lover. Besides she lived too far away.
So Charlie came to live with us. We have a very large yard but can’t fence it in due to covenants. We put in an underground electric fence which works great. We live on the edge of a farm field so there is plenty of running room. I insisted that, if we took this dog, that Tom and I both would give him 2 walks a day. He is a sporting dog, after all, and needs to run. David was hoping that Tom’s skill at training a hunting dog to hunt pheasants might also be a plus for both of them when hunting season rolled around. I decided it was imperative to get Charlie in shape for an all day hunt.
We brought him home with us the end of March 2010. We have been diligent walking him nearly every day although not always twice a day. It has been a boon for us, too, as we needed the excuse to get off our butts and do something outside.
The other day as summer wanes and the days are getting shorter, I was out with Charlie. The sunset was gorgeous, the cornfield behind our house is taller than me and I reflected on the changing of the seasons. I have to thank Charlie Dog for demanding his walk everyday. I have connected with the outdoors this year as we walked across bare ground at the end of winter, avoided the field as the crops came peaking through in the spring, and now play hide and seek up and down the tall corn rows. Thanks, Charlie – maybe I did want a dog after all.
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