Hayden: On the way to Homer, Alaska.

I feel as though I have accomplished something grand.....
Despite the fact that I have STARTED many-a-knitting-project, I am happy to announce that I have actually FINISHED the largest project of all:

A 36" x 48" Baby blanket!

Oh, yes!
You see, I haven't found any blankets in the store that compliment my nursery decor the way I had hoped. This is quite a task when the main baby room decorating rule this time is:

NO pink allowed!

(in the DECOR, anyway...clothes and blankets are okay.)

Picture it, though: Soft butter yellow, rich chocolate brown, crisp pure white and textured green gingham.....doesn't that sound like a dreamy nursery?

Disappointed with this season's selection, I set-out to create my own masterpiece. Oh boy, what an ordeal. I've realized that knitting stresses me out, when I've been TOLD it's supposed to be therapeutic.

Whatever.

I struggled and strained. I stayed up until the wee-hours of the morning. I disappeared from off the face of the earth. BUT, I am now able to say that "I have finished it!"

There was one loss, though (as expected with most of my crafty projects):
I lost the little rubber thingie that goes on the tip of my knitting needle. Do you know what I'm talking about? The tiny piece that is supposed to keep your project on the needle when it isn't in your hands. That way if smaller hands find the project you've been slaving over, then they won't be able to slip the needle out and drag the yarn all over the room.

Of course, Hayden has always been fascinated with this little green piece of rubber: He thinks it looks like a rocket ship. In fact, he has become more interested in playing with the rocket ship than the light-saber-esque kitting needle. (*sigh of relief*) Since I have finished the blanket, though, the rocket ship has been M.I.A.

...Until yesterday.
When Hayden ran to me as I was folding laundry.


Hayden: Mommy, mommy! I found your green rocket ship! It was under the couch!

Me: Oh good! (Enthusiastic AND relieved)

Hayden: Well...you know me mom...when you're missing something, I'LL find it for you! (Pointing to himself with one hand and confidently perching his other hand on his hip.)



Question: Does Hayden already realize that not being able to find what I'm looking for is one of my biggest pet-peeves? Oh well, at least now (once again) I can sleep better tonight, knowing that Hayden is watching-out for me.

Man of My Dreams

Ben & I: 2002 Winter Olympics-Opening Ceremonies

I figure skated in the ceremonies,

Ben was a Zamboni-driver for the Olympic Committee.

To watch my group skate in the Olympic Ceremonies, click HERE.

I'm one of the silver skaters chasing the red Child of Light around in the beginning ( NOT in the white frisbee disks, and NOT the in the "hairy-trolls-on-stilts" group).

I just KNOW you'll enjoy it (especially the cool 80's electric guitar music that begins when the Fire Within shows up).

Jam-on!

* * * * *

You may think I'm crazy, but I'm about to tell a true tale.

I used to make fun of stories like this too....

...until it happened to ME!

* * * * *

I wish you could have known me in High School....

...and some of you did...

I was the quiet, shy, studious, awkward teenager. One time I was even referred to as an "Ugly Duckling" by someone at church. (Note: I wasn't asked out on my first date until after I turned 18.) It's true. A little embarrassing, but true. As a result, I was convinced that there was something wierd and unattractive about me (because, you know, that makes the most sense when you're a shy and awkward 14-year-old).

And then,

One night I had a dream.

During my dreamy slumber, I found myself at the ice rink (a place where I usually spent MOST of my time anyway). I was at the entrance to a beautiful sheet of perfect glass, but standing just off the ice and to the side. As I stood there, I looked to my right and found myself in the middle of a conversation with a guy. "What a cutie!" I thought, as my heart went pitter-patter. He looked out over the ice as he told me about his family and riding horses. I can remember the details to this very day. Most importantly, I can remember how he made me feel. He talked about working on a Ranch as we chatted through the night.

I woke up suddenly to Saturday morning.

It took a few minutes for the butterflies to leave my stomach after I opened my eyes. All I wanted to do was to go back to sleep and spend just 5 more minutes with this guy.

Instead, my 16 year-old mind soon brushed it off as just a silly dream. "Maybe it was a reflection of my love for the ice and figure skating," I concluded.

This attitude toward the dream was apparent as I dated in college. I never looked for that horse-riding guy from my dream. Instead, I found myself trying to go out with everyone ELSE. Oh, how I loved the quiet Computer Genius, the guitar-playing Poet, the analytical Business Major, the Portuguese Immigrant and the totally-cool Ski Bum.

There was one problem, though: They didn't love me back.

* * * * *

I was 23 when I started coaching for the Peaks Ice Arena in Provo, Utah. I had another job that paid the bills, I just worked for the rink in order to get free ice time. As a single girl, I moved to Utah because the Winter Olympics were scheduled to happen there in a couple of years. As a result, they were building some beautiful rinks. I decided that between my ability to speak French and to figure skate, there just HAD to be a way to get into the action.

One morning, I was asked to be an Ice Guard for a group of school kids who were coming to the rink during an Honor Roll field trip. I basically had to wear a bright orange jacket, carry a walkie-talkie, and make sure the kids weren't throwing snowballs at each other. If someone fell and hit their head, my job was to call the in-house EMT on my trusty walkie-talkie. It was a little different than the coaching sessions I was used to, but I thought it would be fun.

I decided to get there early and skate on an empty sheet for an extra (FREE) hour before the kids started to get there. Oh, what a beautiful morning! The rink was empty and silent (except for the musical sounds coming from my blades scratching the ice). There was a haze of fog resting on the surface as the lights reflected like a mirror.

Heavenly!

And then, after finishing a spin I noticed a dark sillouette I didn't recognize, watching me from next to the Skate Rental. There weren't may lights on out there, but I watched him watching me for about a half-hour until the bus pulled up and the kids started to pour in.

He ended up being the on-call EMT for the morning. I found out later that he was usually there at night, taking care of the bloodied-up hockey players. We had both worked there for FOUR months without ever crossing paths. For a while, I referred to him as "EMT guy" because I couldn't remember his name. (You would think that BEN would be a hard name to forget, but...whatever.)

Later in the session, I stood at the entrance to the sheet to check laces as kids came on and off the ice. (You'd be shocked by how many people try to get on the ice without lacing their skates!) With nothing else to do (and looking for a way to start a conversation), the "EMT guy" came over to help. We worked there, side-by-side, with our heads down most of the time lacing skate after skate after skate. We started to chat.

We took a break for a minute and stood up to talk. I asked him where he was from. "Alaska," he responded. He then started to tell me about his life and family "up North" as we looked out over the sheet filled with little skaters. He started to talk about being raised around horses, training them with his mom, and working on Ranches.

My heart started to pound as my head quickly turned to the right. I stared at him as he kept talking. My face dropped, my palms got sweaty and my stomach felt like it was in my throat.

I swallowed hard as I relived the dream I had been carrying around in the back of my memory for SO many years. Only this time, I actually gave him my phone number.

* * *

Quite a few people have emailed me and asked me to write more about our history (how we met, more about Ben's stroke, what brought us to farm life). WOW, that's a long story! I DO want to take the time and write it down since these writings WILL end up in a Blurb book for our kids and family to enjoy. It's going to take some time, though. I'll just start there and keep adding to it. Tune-in again if you're interested.

We went to a parade a couple of weeks ago and I never blogged about it. I saw this picture and thought I would post it because it's patriotic and it was Veteran's Day yesterday. I know, I know...I'm running just a teensie-bit behind lately.

But while I'm at it, let me add a few more pictures and highlights from our day at the parade. After all, this WAS the first time we went to a parade in a small farming town:




Every parade HAS to let people show off their classic cars (I love Shelby Cobras).

But in a farming town, the parade ALSO has a designated section for classic TRACTORS.

These ones are called "Johnny Poppers" because they are really old John Deere tractors that sound like Jiffy-pop popcorn when they idle. (Pop....pop pop POP!)

Of course, the National Cowboy Club made an appearance.

The local politicians were out! This guy was running for County Supervisor. He stayed behind the animals and shoveled all the horse poop while his wife drove the quad.

Cle-ver!

(I voted for him because let's face it: how can you NOT be a good County Supervisor with THAT kind of creativity?)

...AND how can you not have a parade (in "these parts") without a cowboy Ronald McDonald riding a miniature train?

Hayden at the Historic Railroad Park in Willcox.

Hayden has always been fascinated with trains.

Actually, a little obsessed.

Before he could form sentances, he was pointing out the differences between steam engines, diesel engines and freight cars.

"Oh look!" I proclaimed to Hayden one day as we were stopped at a railroad crossing. "Look at the freight cars!"

"No mom," responded the (then) three year-old, "THOSE are passenger cars."

("Duuuh!" He seemed to say.)

I took a closer look.

He was right.

Could this be genetic?

My dad developed an obsession for trains too: Ever since he grew up near the railroad tracks in Missouri (during the 30's) with a father who worked for the Union Pacific.

The two of THEM (my dad and Hayden) get together regularly and compare their passions for trains. They lay on the floor, build tracks and play for hours.

However, those trains seem a little loud and scary in real-life, don't they?

(see below)

" I see a train coming!"

"Uh, Oh!"

"It's LOUUUUUD!"

"I call it....'Cascading Legos'"

Be Impressed....be VERY impressed!

I am, anyway...with myself.

While going through an old memory card, I came across these pictures and realized that I had forgotten to publish a post about this birthday cake I made for Hayden in July!

For the love!

Isn't this just the PERFECT birthday cake for a little boy?

It would be a shame NOT to tell the world!

It's pretty easy, but takes time and patience.

...and let me emphasize that again before you tackle this project yourself:

1.) Give yourself a lot of time

2.) Give yourself permission to walk away from it once in a while

3.)Remember to breathe.

(I actually started concentrating so hard that I stopped breathing.)

It was worth it, though!

SO! If you would like to make this cake, here are some pointers...

*I baked the cake mix in bread pans. I THINK I used two mixes for all the pieces...maybe. (???) I used Pillsbury Funfetti (confetti) cake mix.

*After baking, allow to cool completely. I shaved off the sides (with a bread knife) to make the legos more square.

*Wrap the pieces in foil and freeze for at LEAST a few hours.

*The round nubby pieces are JUMBO MARSHMALLOWS, cut in half. (I also trimmed the edges with kitchen shears so they had a little bit of space between.)

*I skewered the marshmallows onto toothpicks and frosted them. Then, attached them to the lego squares after they were taken from the freezer and frosted. (Freezing the cake makes it easier to frost and less crumbly. Make sure the frosting is at room temperature, though.)

*Keep the finished cake in the fridge until you're ready to bring it out.

Voila!

And there you go!

An Apple Annie Adventure

Hayden: Listening to Arizona Farm Facts for Kids.

How can you live in farm country and NOT go to the pumpkin patch?

You can't...you just HAVE to go.

So we did.

We went to Apple Annie's, the local hot spot...

Where we munched on Kettle Corn and fresh-from-the-orchard-apples.

We went on a hay ride, picked a pumpkin and paroosed the gift shop.

The corn maze was an adventure: we had to answer trivia questions about farming and corn in order to find our way through the maze.

I was a little nervous.

(You would be too...look at THIS picture of the maze!)

Especially since the week before, some kids got lost in the maze and a full-fledged man-hunt was issued.

I am happy to announce that we made it through the corn maze.

I was relieved!

Pumpkins, fresh from the patch, getting ready to go to the local markets.

A pretty flower (A busy bee flew away just as I started to take the picture).




The Sunflower field.

A Gathering Place

It's amazing what you can find on a ranch.

Especially when you suddenly find yourself with thousands of acres of land that hasn't been maintained or tidied for years. We have WORK ahead of us. "Hoarding" is a common issue in this area: not being able to let go of stuff due to the idea that "we might need this someday" or "we could fix this up and use it." This is compounded by two things: abundant land and the non-existence of laws against having a junk yard on your property.

There are varying degrees, however.
Sometimes I wish I would have studied more Psychology because it fascinates me to try to figure out what makes people tick. I love trying to understand why they do what they do.

There was a common saying during the Great Depression (for obvious reasons):
Fix it up,
Wear it out,
Make it do,
or Do Without!

I was raised with that idea and although I am grateful for the opportunity to learn how to be conservative with money and resources, I have always rebelled and fought very hard to avoid clutter...and isn't it an on-going battle for ALL of us?

I just hate clutter.
I hate junk.

"One man's junk is another man's treasure," was something my mom always said, and I believe that too. I would much rather take the old stuff I don't use to a second-hand store or Recycling facility than to look at it while it fills up my house and yard. If (by some strange chance) I find a need for it in the future, I know I will buy another one, as my budget dictates. Now, there is stuff to keep for that once-in-a-while use and then there is that stuff that should be thrown away.


There has to be a balance, right?
Okay, THAT was a tangent, but you get my point.
Maybe you understand my sensitivity and resilience to clutter.


So, back to the story:
I was not-so-shocked a few days ago to see my "child of the depression" dad find an old rusted iron swing (on the ranch) and set it up outside the ranch guest house.

"Thanks a lot for that, Dad," I silently thought in my best sarcastic tone, while I secretly started to plan when I would be hauling the piece of junk to the scrap yard.

It drove me crazy to have it sitting in view. "You don't have anywhere else to sit out here yet" was my dad's argument and, you know, he's right. So, there I was silently hating the rusted piece of metal in my driveway.

I hated it until one day when I looked out my window and noticed Hayden and my dad sharing a snack. They sat on the swing together for a half-hour: talking, laughing, telling jokes and reading the newspaper comics while feasting on strawberry milk and potato chips. After the snack, they stayed out there for hours while Hayden played with the garden hose and my dad sat and enjoyed the clean, crisp fall air.

And then my heart softened and I realized: If that old, ugly, rusted swing can be a gathering place for two people (whom I love) to share special moments across an 80-year time gap, then maybe I can put-up with it for a LITTLE while longer.

Chatting and snacking.

"BOO!"

Like dogs, there are different breeds of cattle.

Make a comment about a German Shepherd or Black Lab, and pretty much EVERYONE knows what you're talking about.

Here are a few visual aids when it comes to SOME cow breeds:

BEEF MASTER

BLACK ANGUS

(Oops! I mean....)

BLACK ANGUS

BELTED GALLOWAY

HERFORD

HOLSTEIN

I'm not so sure the BLACK BALDY is a breed as much as it is just a nickname for its appearance. Either way, I think I saw one the other night actually make a facial expression.

Can animals HAVE facial expressions? I think THIS one did....

As Ben and I dozed off to sleep with the window open (enjoying the fall air) we suddenly heard very loud and very heavy footprints. Then, "munch, munch, munch."

We peeked out the window to see a very young Black Baldy grazing within a few feet of our window. The outside light illuminated the cow's white face, but made it to where the cow couldn't see US (hiding behind the dark screen).

I couldn't help myself, "Pssssst!" The cow FROZE and looked straight at the screen motionless. "Psssst!" I did it again right before Ben whispered, "Hey cow."

If I didn't know better, I would SWEAR her eyes got bigger. She started to back-up slowwww-ly and stealthy, with all the grace of a hunting kitty-cat. (I didn't know cows could be that gentle and graceful.) After a few feet of tip-toeing, she turned on a dime and took-off running. We laughed heartily as we listened to her hooves disappearing into the darkness.

BLACK BALDY

"TRICK OR TREAT!"

"STICK 'EM UP!"

It's easy to find a gun-fight around here.

Remember, we live 20 minutes from Tombstone. This IS where the real historic wild west took place and many people today love to keep it alive.


Last week was Rex Allen Days: A big deal weekend with parades, a fair, booths, rides, food and shows. We even had a friend of ours get inducted into the Cowboy Hall of Fame. (Did you know that a Cowboy Hall of Fame even existed? Well it does: right here in our backyard.)


Hayden had the closest encounter with a gun-fight show he's ever had.
It went a little somethin' like this:



Hayden hung-out with the "bad guys" before the show, not realizing that they were about to "rob a bank" (*wink*).

It started off with the usual yelling back and forth between the bad guys (who just got caught in the street)...

...and the good-guys coming to stop the crime.

PS: Don't miss the Cowboy Poetry at the museum ! (Look in the background.)

Hayden watched intently as his new friends yelled back and forth. He really got into it and even chimed in--screaming along with them, "Ya, you guys!"

"Shhh! Watch the show," we quickly calmed him down.

And then, of course, the shooting. One character taunts too far which sets everyone off in a shooting rampage. Amid the loud shots and gun smoke, a few casualties start to fall.

Hayden wasn't so sure about this part. He wasn't expecting that! He looked back at me with a startled look on his face and started to wimper. I grabbed him, put him on my lap, and explained what a SHOW is (while the "motherly guilt" set-in).

The actors came back over to him after the show was over. "I'm so glad you're okay!" he dramatically yelled as he threw his arms around the waist of the bank-robber.

After giving him a handful of empty shells, taking a group picture, and exchanging some high-fives, we were able to go our separate ways without the need of any continuing therapy.

("Whew!")

Bulk flours from The Produce Wagon.

I blogged about the Mennonite Market after our first visit in June 2007.
We were the newbies in town back then.
Do you remember how much I loved the Market?

If you didn't know already:
The Amish are a branch of the Mennonites and there is a very prevalent Mennonite farming and construction community in this area.
For info about the Mennonites and Amish, go HERE.

I have to admit that I don't know very many details about their religious faith (and they don't talk about it), but from our many interactions with them I can say that they seem like very decent, humble people.

I like seeing the Mennonite women working along-side their husbands. It is common to drive by a field and see the women wearing their dresses and head coverings while they plow, plant and harvest.

There once was a young Mennonite couple that we visited with, where the husband spoke German and Spanish and the wife spoke German and English. She acted as the translator: we spoke to her in English and she spoke to him in German. When they were in Mexico, they switched roles and HE became the translator (good deal!). As he worked in the field with his team, his young wife broke out the food, drinks, and what looked like a portable stove. When she wasn't helping him physically, she was making tortillas for the crew.

Recently, we paid a Mennonite man for some work he did. We tried to give him some cash, and he tried to refuse it. "Don't give that to me yet; I don't have my receipt book with me today," he started. "I will just send you a bill and I'll give you a reciept when you pay me then."

"Don't worry," Ben chuckled, "I'm not worried about it with you. I'll feel better if I immediately pay you for the work you did." He smiled and took the cash. Wouldn't you know it: we recieved a receipt in the mail THE NEXT DAY.

Oh, how we love the Mennonites:
We love doing business with them (extremely hard-working).
We love working with them (kind and generous).
We love hiring them (incredibly honest).
AND we love going to the market.

Just GOING there makes me feel good:
The jars of fresh honey, honeycomb included.
The Zucchini and Yellow Squash, as big as my arm.
The packages of cracked grain and flours I can't find easily anywhere else. (This is stuff you can't buy at Wal-Mart or Albertson's).

Thad is a young, blonde, Mennonite kid who seems to be there every time I come to the market. He is so tall that I almost have to look straight up to the ceiling to talk to him. Thad helped me order the few things I couldn't find in the market this time: Amaranth, Kamut (those are grains), and Vitamin C powder. (I'm trying out a new "Grainy Bread" recipe and it has about 50 ingredients that sound like words from a foreign language.)

I was amazed at his knowledge of my list of ingredients (which most people would think of as exotic just because they're unfortunately uncommon). "I'm looking for Vitamin C Powder, Thad, and I've never seen that before...ANYWHERE."

"It sometimes goes by the name Ascorbic Acid, but I'll have to order it for you. It should come in next week, and I'll call you."

And so he did....

...and I left the market smiling (with my bottle of old fashioned cream soda and carrying a 5-pound bag of Spelt Flour like a baby). As we walked out the door I turned to Ben and whispered,

"I LOVE the Mennonites!"

Grains, candies and spices.

Fresh produce:(the bananas are imports, though)

Best Buddies and Play Dates

"Best Friends"

Photos: by Nancy

Whenever I tell Hayden that we are going to go somewhere he always asks the same question:

"Will there be other kids there; kids MY size?"

I guess everyone just feels a little better when there is someone around they can relate to.

Of course, being the little social butterfly that he is, Hayden is quick to greet other kids and to get busy playing with them...no matter WHERE we are. Sometimes the other kids are a little shy, but that melts away and they are soon play buddies.

Do you think there could be that same connection between animal kids and human kids?

This Fillie's name is Zia.
Zia can be a little sassy at times.

...Okay.....all the time.

Zia likes to nip and nibble whenever fingers are in range. (Ouch!)
She often likes to just keep her distance. If SHE doesn't keep her distance, then her mommy (Belle) will many times stand in between Zia and whoever is standing at the corral fence.

It's a different story with Hayden, though....
Always has been.

When Zia sees Hayden coming, she greets him at the fence. He climbs up between the green posts, rubs her face and says, "Hello!" She sniffs his shirt and gently snuggles with him. Belle seems to not mind, and goes about her business.

Do you think she understands the bond between two "kids?"

Often Zia will then try to show-off for Hayden (just like kids do sometimes). She will start running around the corral and kicking her back legs into the air. Then, she will come back over and snuggle with Hayden again. If he sticks his fingers in front of her mouth, she sniffs at him and coaxes him to pet her again.

She seems to be much calmer.
Do you think that Zia sees Hayden as someone "her size?"

I guess everyone just feels better when there's someone around they can relate to.

Making sure Zia has enough water to drink.

Picking "flowers" (grass) for Zia.

A common picture: Following Daddy and "helping".

Halloween: Just Around The Corner.

"Patio Sanctuary"

by Nancy

It started out as a typical day...

With the typical routine...

And going to the local Post Office was on the list.

It was Ben's turn to empty out the over-stuffed box of mail while I waited in the car. We knew the box was going to be crowded since we hadn't been there in a week (we don't go into town every day, you know). Boy were we right!

The Post Office was creepily silent, in a creepy way that only the Post Office can be. Sterile, a wall of metal doors, your feet squeeking against the floor with every step. With the turn of a key, the door was open and paper and celophane seemed to be spilling out of the front immediately. Ben started to empty and exmine each piece, unable to even see light peering through from the other side of the hole.

A Trade-A-Plane for Ben,

Pottery Barn coupons for Nancy,

Bills,

Bills,

Credit Card offer...
Blah,

Blah...

(I mean, really, after the Trade-A-Plane and the PB coupons, what else do we care about?)

Just then, a voice broke the Postal silence and boomed from the other side of the opening (now empty). "HOW ya doin' today?"

Ben looked up, startled, to see the other end of the box completely covered with a face. The only thing he could see was an eyeball staring back at him. Ben jumped back and let out an audible, "Ahhhh!"

"SO! How's the new farm comin'? You busy yet?"

Ben, heart still pounding from the shock and creepiness of only being able to see the eyeball, stumbled just a little in his response. "Uh...everything's going well, Thank you."

"Well, good to hear. Have a great day!"

As he got back in the car, laughing, Ben thoughtfully stated, "I forgot that every one here knows where every one else if farming. There's no such thing as just slipping in and slipping out of a place discretly."

But, seriously, someone needs to tell that guy to stop sneeking up on people like that.