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.

Dear Hayden:

Why is it that you have to grow and change so quickly?

I feel a need to steal pictures of you every day...

To fill my memory card with little moments in time;

Holding them close to my heart forever!

If I don't do it, then I'm afraid I'll miss something.

Tomorrow, you will be different again:

Changing faster and faster,

Growing bigger and bigger.

I know you ask me everyday if you will "be 6 tomorrow..."

I'm glad we have another year until then.

Will you please slow down before we have to choose a college?


PS: When you get a little older I WILL teach you how to work the sprayer on the hose, so you can finally beat Daddy at a water fight!

PPS: I'm STILL trying to figure out what color your eyes are. This is a difficult thing I face every time I have to fill out a questionnaire or legal application for you. Hazel...Brown...It changes often due to lighting and what you're wearing. (Your eyes remind my of those crazy hippie "mood rings.") Will you please make up your mind, and let me know what you decide?

Love you forever,

Mom

"What's in there?"

"I'm comin' for YOU next....with the hose!"

Locals

Hayden: Pretending the hay bails were his pirate ship, and a stalk of grass his sword.

A funny thing happend to me at lunch yesterday...

Ben and I decided to go to a local country cafe for a sandwich and fries. You know that place: the hole in the wall that all the locals go to. The kind of place where the meatloaf and mashed potatoes actually taste like something your mom would make; Served on a normal-sized plate that looks like it was pulled straight out of the kitchen cabinet.

I thought about how much I liked this place when we seated ourselves (in the regular corner booth), and the familiar waitress recognized us (calling us "Hon").

Within 60 seconds after we were settled, the door opened and the lunch crowd came in: three booths full of ranchers and farmers of varying age groups. The room filled with a sea of cowboy hats and denim; The air filled with casual joking and laughter.

Not very long after that, entered two young guys (obviously from out-of-town). The room was quiet by then. I leaned over the table and spoke quietly, "They don't look like they're from around here."

And then it hit me.

It wasn't long ago that WE were the out-of-towners, coming to lunch in a town that we were "scoping-out" before making the big move. Less than two years ago WE were the city people that every local stared at and whispered about during lunch. When it was US, though, two guys actually CAME UP to us (on two separate occasions) and announced, "Hey, you're not from around here are you? What are YOU doin' here?"

When we answered with one of the "golden" responses (FARMING) everyone relaxed and smiled in relief. I'm assuming that if we would have said something like URBAN DEVELOPMENT, the reaction would have been quite different.

So, I sat there with a smirk on my face, realizing I wasn't viewed as such a wierdo anymore.

And then the waitress brought Ben an extra side of Ranch Dressing (since she knows he likes to dip his fries).

Life Standing Still

Here are a few "stills" while visiting a friend's neighboring ranch...

"Thanks for asking us to feed your horses and pets while you vacationed for the weekend. I hope you don't mind me stealing these shots while we were there (I just couldn't help myself)!"

Just a reminder: "There is beauty all around..."

Mailboxes on a country farm road.

The entrance to SO many driveways.

Blue skies and sunshine.

Taste the Seasons!

Fall is coming....can you feel it?

I can!

(and so can everyone, in one way or another.)

I often think back to living in the Phoenix area this time of year. With such an INTENSE personal adoration for changing seasons, I was always disappointed not to feel a natural chill in the air SOMETIME in September. Our air conditioner usually stayed on until early November, and there was one year in particular that Hayden couldn't wear his Halloween costume because it was just too hot! (For the love!)

After spending so much of my life in places like the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California, the Tetons of Idaho, the Wasatch of Utah (lots of snowboarding), and the French-Canadian countryside (hello....changing maple leaves), I was devastated not to be able to bring out the sweaters for a chilly evening walk...even if we WERE in Arizona.


Tired of waiting for something I knew wouldn't come, I took it upon myself every year to bring the changing seasons to my home (since the WEATHER wasn't helping at ALL)! I quickly got to work every September, religiously bringing out the pumpkins and fall garland. I filled the house with the aroma of buring candles, meant to mimick the smells of apple cider, cinnamon, and pumpkin pie. I even turned the air down extra low, just for a little chill. If someone got too cold, I told them to either wear a sweater or open the door and step out into the sunshine for a minute. I was DETERMINED to have a chill!


Little did I know NOT ALL of Arizona is like that!


And so, here we are, in an area of the Desert Southwest that gets chilly in September and is loaded with water (hence all the farming)! Who knew?


As I sit here in a sweatshirt enjoying the daily 50-degree morning temps, I've decided to pass along a tasty, fall-inviting recipe in celebration of the impending holidays. I'd like to especially dedicate this to my friends still living in the Phoenix area (or any of you living anywhere else that still reaches 90-degrees or above during the day). My message to you is crank down the air, make this drink, sit back and think of pumpkin patches, dry corn fields and changing leaves.



Everyone else can just drink it and savor the sweet, simple things of life!

This recipe might LOOK complicated at first glance (because it mentions cheesecloth) but it's REALLY okay AND, it tastes AMAZING! I will add some simpler (non-cheesecloth) variations at the end, too. (Of course, you can just BUY a ready-mix package of spiced cider, but isn't it fun to just try making it yourself at least once? Plus, if nothing else, your family and friends will be impressed...and don't we all secretly want to be impressive once in a while?) Go ahead, give yourself a pat on the back...you deserve it!

*(For more recipes, click on the recipe link at the end of this post OR the link on the left of the page, under "shortcuts".)

* * *

HOT SPICED APPLE CIDER

Makes 6 servings

Ingredients:

6 Cups APPLE CIDER

1/4 Cup REAL MAPLE SYRUP (a little more is okay)

2 CINNAMIN STICKS* (plus 6-see directions)

6 whole CLOVES

6 whole ALLSPICE BERRIES* (see notes below)

1 ORANGE PEEL, cut into strips

1 LEMON PEEL, cut into strips

Directions:

1. Pour the APPLE CIDER and MAPLE SYRUP into a large saucepan.


2. Place the CINNAMON STICKS, CLOVES, ALLSPICE, ORANGE PEEL and LEMON PEEL in the center of a washed square of cheesecloth; fold up the sides of the cloth to enclose the bundle, then tie it up with string. (You just made a little spiced cider tea bag.) Drop the spice bundle into the cider mixture.


3. Place the saucepan over moderate heat for 5 to 10 minutes, or until the cider is very hot but not boiling.


4. Remove the cider from the heat. Discard the spice bundle. Ladle the cider into big cups or mugs, adding a fresh CINNAMON STICK to each serving (if desired).

NOTES:

*Allspice is found in the grocery store. It comes as whole berries or ground. If you can't find the berries, just use about a 1/2 tsp of GROUND ALLSPICE (it's okay if it's a little more) and add it to the drink when heating.

*If you don't want to play around with the cheesecloth, just slice up the fruit and let it float in the cider; It's a pretty thing to do anyway. (Just scoop it out before it sits for an hour, though, or it will make it bitter!)

*If you opt NOT to make the "tea bag" then use 1 tsp GROUND CINNAMON, 1/2 tsp GROUND ALLSPICE and 1/4 tsp CLOVES.

Great for not only your family and home, but also parties and gatherings!

It will also make your house smell delicious!

*Photo: www.dkimages.com

Frogger in Real-Life

I used to think that the video game FROGGER was just a silly (yet clever) idea thought up by some creative genius.

But after THIS monsoon season, I realize that it is another example of art imitating life.

The frogs come out every Monsoon season. (Remember THIS story?) Every night, the air is filled with the obnoxious music of croaking bullfrogs. It is seriously, SO loud! Every lake, pond, or puddle of standing water has hundreds of tiny heads popping out of the surface.

About a month ago, we started noticing thousands of tiny dots moving across the roads of the Ranch. They were EVERYWHERE!

When we got out of the truck to take a closer look, we saw that they were teeny-tiny baby frogs, fresh from the nearby lake, testing out their new legs. At first we felt terrible. They absolutely COVERED the dirt roads, making it impossible to avoid them. The ground seemed to move as they scampered across, trying to get away from the wheels.

I thought it would only last a day or two. Nope. They're still on the road every day, but now they're the size of silver dollars. Since the water levels are waning, there are less frogs to run over. Whew!

Now, I'm just trying to avoid running over the desert tortoises! (They're BAAAACK!)

*Photo: Thanks to the Lloyds for sharing this perfect picture!

It was a year and a half ago....

As I cried at the thought of moving out of my big comfy house in the suburbs in exchange for Farm Life, my quiet-spoken (World War II-veteran) dad told me of an article he had just read about the war.

"You know," he started humbly, "they always said that the soldiers felt better when they had a farm boy in their group. They knew that the farm boys worked the hardest and could fix anything. They were used to fixing tractors and wells back-home on the farm. Many times that knowledge and experience saved the lives of many men."

I remembered that statement this week as I reflected back on what I've observed the farm kids do over the short time we've been here so far:

• I've seen a 9-year old maneuver a 350 horsepower tractor like a pro.


• I've watched an 11-year old handle a gun with the confidence of a soldier.


• I've known of many 13-year olds take apart and reassemble the engines of QUADS with the technique of a curious professional mechanic.


• And, I've watched kids work long hours along-side their families when it was time to get the crops in...all without complaining or asking, "Are we done yet?" (Not even once.)

Some parents try to send their city kids down here for the occasional summer job, hoping they will learn those farm life essentials in a few months. (It doesn't really work that way.) Tourists travel thousands of miles and pay lots of money to the local "Guest Ranch" (think of the movie City Slickers) in order to try to get a crash-course in Ranching and Farming.

Witnessing both of these groups finally made me understand that these characteristics are learned because of a farm LIFESTYLE. I have to say it was extremely hard for ME at first. I never wanted to come here in the first place. Taking most of those urban conveniences (I was used to) away made me struggle. My dependence on "things" were almost a slap in the face when I realized just HOW MUCH I relied on them; just how much comfort they gave me.

And, it was obviously apparent to everyone in town.

(That was embarassing.)

I wanted to change that.

I have much to learn, but I've come a LONG way. I've learnd that the opposition and trials teach one to be self-reliant, and we have faced trials on a farm that you just CAN'T experience anywhere else.

I've also learned over and over that there's a certain self-confidence that comes from KNOWING you can "handle it" and being forced into situations that MAKE you "step up".

"Will I be able to teach our kids that?" I wondered often.

A glimmer of an answer came this week, when Hayden volunteered for a new responsibility. I never asked him to do this, I always just did it myself. But he decided on monday to take the initiative, and "step-up" to help a family member. All by himself.

Every time we enter or leave the Ranch, we have to move a heavy, rusted cattle gate. A new and improved gate will replace the antique soon, but for now it HAS to be moved every time. On a ranch, leaving a gate open is grounds for SERIOUS discipline....if you let the cows out, you are TOAST!

"I'll open the gate, mommy," I heard proclaimed from the backseat. "I can do it."

I watched as he jumped out of the car and marched himself over to the gate, which is almost as tall as he is. Then, I watched as my 45-pound 5-year old heaved and struggled with that heavy metal mass. He pushed with everything he had; over bumps and rocks. I couldn't help but jump out of the car, concerned and wanting to help him. "No, mommy! Get back in the car, I can do this myself!" he yelled defiantly and determined. I just stood back in awe, with misty eyes.

I got back in the car and cheered encouragement from the open window. When he slowly wrestled it in place he leaned back victoriously against the gate. After I pulled through, he quickly got back to work; struggling and wrestling that thing until it was closed. Skipping back to the car and enjoying a triumphant "high-five" he smiled in his seat the whole way home.

I thought I had just witnessed a once-in-a-lifetime burst of cattle gate enthusiasm. Not so. He is now the official gate-keeper, as takes his job very seriously.....EVERYTIME.

I have to say that this place is growing on me. There is something magical about living a farm lifestyle. I am excited about how this lifestyle is blessing us personally, as a family, and what essential life lessons it will teach our children.

Are there some drawbacks? Sure. But I'm feeling more and more confident that I can "make-up" for that other stuff we left behind. Besides, it wouldn't really WORK the other way around.

"There's A MONSTER Under The Barn!"

Have you ever tasted rattlesnake meat?

I have.

At a fancy-pants, touristy, old-west-type restaurant.

I thought it tasted like chicken (just like everything else does) except rubbery.

I wasn't that impressed, especially while trying NOT to crunch down on vertabrae.

I have to be honest.

IF I actually LIKED the meat (and knew how to prepare it), we would have thought we hit the jackpot a few days ago. We came across the absolutely HUGEST rattlesnakeI have ever seen...

In the middle, the snake was as thick as my fist (and not from lunch)! It HAD to be around 5 feet long! Should this break some sort of record?

I just wanted to take a minute and be grateful.

Here is a list of "beings" I'd like to thank:

Thank you, Barn Kitty, for meow-ing incessantly from the barn rafters. (We THOUGHT you were just being friendly. Now, we understand that you were trying to warn us.)

Thank you, Ginormous Diamondback, for chasing after us from behind the grain barrel (so that we knew just how mean you really were). Thank you for showing us your rattle and "shaking it" so loudly.

Thank you, Shanda, for allowing your motherly instincts kick-in when I was too far away. Screaming, scooping Hayden up, and running for the door (in less than two seconds) was absolutely astonishing! Poetry in motion, I tell ya!

Thank you, Ben, for being such a good shot (as well as thorough). Shooting the head off AND shooting the snake in half was (although messy) VERY efficient. Bravo!

Thank you, Giant Antique shot gun, for firing a shot. I realize we don't take you out to play very often (the young AR-15 gets most of the fun), but you were the only one close-by. This was your moment to shine...and you did! I MUST say that when Ben carries you around, there is an almost John-Wayne-esque essence in the air.

And here's a second thank you to Shanda....

For "showing" the dead snake to the kitty (so that she would KNOW it was dead). I laughed so hard when the kitty turning into a screaming tazmanian devil...I had to cross my legs so I wouldn't pee my pants (hello! Pregnant!) I know I was trying to be serious for the sake of your feelings, but really....that was funny (let's be honest).

PS....I AM really sorry she scratched you.

Okay, I know I'm being a little silly, but seriously....LOOK AT THAT PICTURE!

I'm SO glad we didn't meet this snake (hiding in the barn for who knows how long) under different circumstances. Considering that a couple of the barn cats are missing (and that we found remains close-by), it seems as though this big guy has been there for a while!

Rattle-Me-This!

There are a few things everyone needs to understand about snakes down here.

First of all, there are TWO kinds of deadly rattle snakes:
1. The Diamondback
2. The Mohave

The Diamondback is a nasty one. They look like they have diamonds running down their back (hence the name). They have a HEMOTOXIN in their venom. That means that if you get bitten, you should "beat it" to the nearest hospital because the venom will poison your BLOOD.


If I had an opinion when it came to naming a Major Leage Baseball team, and we were trying to find a scary and intimidating name, I would NOT name the team the Diamondbacks......The Mohave is MUCH scarier!

The Mohave has a HEMOTOXIN AND a NEUROTOXIN in their venom. That means that if you get bitten you need to have a "snake bite kit" on hand. You should take it out and use it on the way to the nearest hospital. The Mohave's venom will poison your blood AND attack your nervous system (we saw the effects of this after a Mohave bit a farm cat...it was very sad). You can spot a Mohave because it looks almost green or yellowish.



Hmmmmm....
The Arizona Mohaves.
Well, it doesn't have the same poetic ring. Maybe "Diamonbacks" IS a better name.

Anyway, here is ANOTHER piece of vital snake know-how:
When you kill one of these deadly snakes (with either a shovel, a gun, or a car tire), you have to cut off the head and bury it.

I know. It sounds weird, but here's the deal:
Even after it is dead, the snake's head will keep striking.
(I didn't "get it" until I actually SAW this a few times!)

It's true.
AND it's creepy.

The snake will keep flipping around, with the mouth wide open, and continue to strike. Can you imagine seeing a snake, killing it, and then STILL getting bitten after it's dead. Now THAT would be just mean! (Plus, you don't want pets to eat the poison sac either.)

Actually, there are about 7 different kinds of deadly snakes here, but THESE two are the MOST meanest and deadly. They ALSO just happen to be the most abundant. Ironic. They are EVERYWHERE and during this warm time of the year we see them all day, every day.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: I realize PETA followers and snake-lovers might be upset with this post (and the one to follow tomorrow). Please remember that this blog is about all the experiences of leaving the suburbs for The Range. We live on a Ranch now and there is a very definate attitude toward rattlesnakes among ranchers and farmers. Plus, most sympathetic feelings discipate once one sees the effects of a rattlesnake bite. ( I was going to post a picture example of THAT, but it was just too gross.....You can look THAT one up on your own.)

Photos:

http://www.courses.washington.edu/

http://www.angelo.edu/

http://www.southwestbirdies.com/

Drama at the Breakfast Table

We live in the heart of where the "Old West" took place.

Tombstone is about 30 minutes away, and many tourists travel there every year to get a taste of the gun-slinging cowboys from history. Some actually move here, yearning to feel and live the lifestyle every day.

People here carry guns. Including us.

I'm lucky.
The person who taught ME how to handle a gun was my Army Special Forces brother.

There's another dangerous ingredient to the mix and culture here:
THE BORDER OF MEXICO.


Poncho Villa lives!
But now, he does NOT cross the border to steal our women and cattle; he crosses because drugs are a big business and because Mexico stinks.

No, really. It smells funny. I know because I cross the border to get tortillas and tacos...and then I come right back.

And here's the thing that troubles my soul:
I've been there. IF I was born there, I would try to cross that border EVERY DAY (especially if I had a family). Corruption forces people to cross illegally, but that's still not okay. We still have to have the rules BECAUSE (unfortunately) there are lots of people in the world who want to hurt us. I feel bad for the "better life" crossers who don't want to cause trouble. Unfortunately, with that group comes the "Coyote" (who traffics people and exploits their desperation) and the "Mule" (the deadly drug-runner).

The Coyote and the Mule are usually the ones who speak good English. Another cue: big backpacks. (I will be passing on more "tips about illegals" in future posts.)

Let me tell you about the morning I had on the Ranch today....alone....trying to get my son ready for school.

This Ranch has developed a reputation over many years: a 10,000-acre safe-haven crossing point (surrounded by concealing foothills) where Border Patrol was not given permission to enter. Bad news: we're the new owners and we have a different policy.

The morning started with hearing news that there was a "car bomb bail-out" at the entrance to the Ranch. (TIP: A Car Bomb is when a van or SUV pulls off the road and 20 illegals jump out and start running in all directions.) Only 30 minutes after the "bail-out" (and about that long after Ben had left), I heard a knock at the door. I couldn't see anything.

"It might be Jim," I thought to myself. (A real-life cowboy who stops by occasionally to check on the cattle he has running on the Ranch right now.) Just to be safe, I told Hayden to stay at the table and I ran to the gun safe. In less that 5 seconds, I had my 10mm Glock ready in my hand.


This is what went on in my head:

Deep breath.....

Okay, one more deep breath.....

Think....

Calm....(pause)

I'M READY!

I opened the door to find TWO hispanic men, one who spoke incredibly good English (red flag #1--see "drug-runner" above). They kept their distance, so I decided to keep the gun at my side behind the door instead of showing it to them as a warning. Still, I stood ready in case of an ambush from the side.

The one in the dark blue shirt asked for water.
He had almost NO accent.
I pointed him to the spiket on the side of the house....a place where I could watch them from the window. Then, I closed and locked the door and called Ben. Ben started home while calling Border Patrol.

I paced from window to window, making sure I kept an eye on them. "Where are the others?" I thought to myself. "They could be anywhere."

After a minute, they headed North out of the Ranch Headquarters; sauntering away as if they had all the time in the world. I kept looking for backpacks.

I watched as they walked across the cattle-guard. Suddenly, two more men appeared. They had been hiding behind the John Deere Tractor, parked beside the corrals.

As I started to drive the long dirt road to the bus stop (disarmed Glock in my purse), the first Border Patrol truck showed up. We greeted each other briefly and went our separate ways. Ben was the next to meet up with me. He had found a bunch of "crossing papers" in Spanish, scattered along the dirt Ranch road, which he had just given to the officer who was coming onto the Ranch from a different angle.

I turned around and followed Ben back to the Ranch headquarters. "I think I'll just TAKE my son to school today, and that gives me a bit of extra time." After about 10 minutes, we heard the Patrol trucks leaving the Ranch.

When it was time to leave and go to school, we found the note hanging from the barbed wire next to the cattle gate and blowing in the gentle breeze:
"All four illegals were arrested!"

Earlier, Ben had talked with the agent. "When you find them, tell them they're lucky. My wife was holding a readied gun behind the door."

"I think I WILL tell them that!"

I hope he does. Maybe it will change the reputation of the Ranch. This is the third time I've had to meet someone at the door with a gun hidden behind my thigh, wondering if I was going to have to defend my family; to protect myself and my son while he sat in another room.


I hope it's the last.

A Fish Tale - Part III

"JUST FOR THE HALIBUT!"

Did you know that Halibut have both eyes on one side of their head?

When they hatch, they have an eye on each side, but as they grow they start swimming on the bottom of the ocean, "laying down" on one side. As they get bigger, the one eye on the bottom moves to the top!

(Creepy!)

My first Halibut!

Hayden's first fish!

(Ben has already done this a-hundred times!)

"Kissy, Kissy!" (I WAS going to kiss him, but he slapped me with his tail....serious.)

These Halibuts are referred to as "Chickens" because they are SO small.

I like them though, because the bigger they are, the mushier they taste!

I'll take the Chickens ANY day!

* * * * *

Recipe: POOR MAN'S LOBSTER

Ben grew up on the Homer Spit and used to make this (every summer) with his family (over a campfire on the seashore) after a long day of Halibut fishing. YOU can make it at home!

Ingredients:

*HALIBUT STEAKS cut into 1-inch cubes

*A big pot (approx. 4 QT) of SALT WATER

(either ocean water or really salty water you make yourself)

*MELTED BUTTER

Directions:

1.) Bring pot of SALTY WATER to a boil.

2.) Drop chunks of HALIBUT into boiling water.

3.) Boil for 5 minutes, or until fish chunks rise to the top (whatever happens first). *Note: if the chunks are frozen, boil for 15 minutes.

4.) Drain and serve with MELTED BUTTER.

(We think it tastes just like lobster!)

*You can also serve with lemon

* Some people like to add vinegar to the water, but we've never done that.

Flowers At Grandma's House

Dear Hayden:

Thank you for being patient when I ask you to look up into the sun for the perfect shot. You are always a good sport when I tell you to "strike a pose" (even when your arm falls asleep from holding a daisy in the air).

Love,

Mom

*And with all these pictures of "Wild Flowers" listen to a sweet song HERE.

A day of playing "tourist" in Anchorage.

These pictures were taken on a cloudy day across the street from "Saturday Market."

PS: If you ever go to Anchorage and find yourself there on a weekend, ask about the Market; It's one of the best places to go for souveniers, snacks, and a broad "taste" of Alaska.

A Fish Tale - Part II

This is a mommy Otter holding a baby and hanging out in a kelp bed.

*Photo by Nancy

After two days of fishing on the ocean,

This is what we ended up with...

15 Halibut "Chickens"

14 Sharks

3 Irish Lords

(These are the ugliest fish; with HUGE gaping mouths and poisonous spines.)

1 Sting Ray ("Skate")

(Read the whole story HERE.)

1 Sea Cucumber

"...and a partridge in a pear tree."

(Everything except the Halibut went back to the ocean.)

Signs You Will Never See In Arizona

Wasilla, Alaska

(The official headquarters and starting line for the annual Ididarod Dogsled race)

Note: They "start" the race in Anchorage (for the tourists and photographers), then move the teams to Wasilla for the OFFICIAL start of the race.

Homer, Alaska