Stopping by woods on a snowy evening

Last night it was just cold enough to snow and not too cold not to. That is the fine balance of things here. We sit so high that our temperatures drop too low for much snow. But last night at 32˚F, a good snow fell.

I have been off the blog for some time and Keith and I keep saying how fast time has been going since we arrived back in August. I guess that is my excuse, I have been part of time whizzing by. Now winter is enshrouding us and there is more indoor time, hence time for blogging. Maybe I have become just a little bit more of a Montanan, if the sun shines, I have been outside. These last few months have provided an extended summer, even the first week of November I went hiking with short sleeves and shorts! Now that it is the first week of December, I go hiking with 4 layers of clothing, not including underwear which would make it 5. It takes a lot of time to put all those layers on and additionally to take those layers off. Generally, it requires a herculean effort to get outside, which I plan on doing this morning because someone needs to take the dog out and I might as well get a walk in while she is doing her thing.

Keith shot his first buck (mule deer), which he said was somewhat of a humbling experience. When you go out in the woods to get your own meat and you come face to face with what you will eventually eat, it does make you grateful for the giving of life so you can be well fed. Now I must learn how to cook venison. I believe we will be eating a lot of chili this winter. One could do worse.



A moose walked through our yard last month, just out for a walk enjoying the sunshine. We have seen a lot more moose up close this fall. Even Keith’s parents got to see a bull, cow, and calf on Maude S. Trail. I came around a corner up in the aspens near the top of the trail and the old bull was within spitting distance. We had a staring, don’t move a muscle contest, before he gave up and wandered up the trail. I had Lucy with me and he kept watching us as we hiked and I watched him back. There is a moose at the golf course behind my house. I saw her when I skied there last week. So it turns out seeing a moose maybe isn’t that big of a deal. Or at least now it isn’t, since I am from Montana.



Being from Montana, Keith and I decided to cut down our own Christmas tree. The very first we have ever had. Here are the pictures to prove our fortitude and determination.



Heading out to find tree. 0 degrees F.



Our tree in its natural glory. Lucy likes it.















We are back home, or the home for now place. Thirty-six degree mornings and 77 degree afternoons, which translates into gloves in the morning and shorts by afternoon. I must admit after 11 weeks away, it was so nice to crawl into my own bed and look out my living room window at the lovely East Ridge mountains.
Lucy and I enlisted the help of family to ferry us and all the stuff I thought was so important to lug along. My sister kindly assisted me for the Asheville to Minneapolis leg and my father and mother squished in to drive from Minneapolis to Butte (same distance for each leg incidentally). My poor mom became a human wedge when we used her body to prop bags and boxes so they would not fly into the front or out the side. You could not see her when looking in the car, just the boxes and bags that covered her.

Our first goal was to make it to Glendive to meet up with Keith. Minneapolis to Glendive is about 11 hours. We reached Glendive on Friday afternoon after a stop at the North Dakota badlands Painted Canyon and Theodore Roosevelt National Grasslands: a vast brown, rust, and sage vista after miles of ND farmland.

In Glendive, we got to work immediately. Keith’s rancher friend invited us out to move 80 cattle across a grassy stretch and road down to a little creek (pronounced “crick”). Rancher Tim, his wife Amy, Keith and I loaded up at 5:45 Saturday morning. Tim had risen even earlier to saddle the horses and load them into the horse trailer. The early hours and massive amount of work required to run a ranch rubs a little reality into the idealistic vision of cattle ranching. This is hard work.

After unloading the horses, Rancher Tim told me to hop on Stormy, a large, white-gray horse. While standing on the ground the stirrups for Stormy were at my eye level. I, for a moment, envisioned if it were at all possible to do the splits while standing. While I was envisioning the impossible, I felt myself lifted like a bag of feed and the next thing I knew, Stormy and I were ready to ride. Rancher Tim wasn’t messing around.

Dear, dear Stormy. We crossed the grass, shouted at the perpetually pooping and wandering cows, rode round to set meandering cattle in the right direction…dear, dear Stormy. I don’t know how to ride, I don’t know how to turn this way or that. Wise Stormy did his job despite the flea on his back. The sky was blue and huge and despite the pain in my knees, life seemed pretty perfect. We brought the cattle down across the road and into the second pasture. Only a mile or so left, but with the cattle a mile can last over an hour. There is no rushing a herd of cattle. I went back to get a few wanderers and as we pushed forward, Stormy lurched to the left while a huge rattlesnake darted to the right. I shouted “Rattlesnake” to Rancher Tim (envision this) who galloped across the pasture, leapt off his horse, ran toward the snake and whipped the knot of his lariat repeatedly on the rattlesnake’s head and then stomped on the snake with a gusto. Rancher Tim then bent down and ripped the rattle off the now very dead snake. Eight rattles in all.

Wow, all in a morning’s work. Cattle moved, snake killed, knees sore beyond imagining. I keep being reminded that Keith and I are creating some pretty awesome memories. I just read that the best money spent is spent on experiences rather than things. I would add that you don’t have to spend money to create a memorable experience.

So now we are home. Keith is back in classes and we are settling in to life in Butte once again. Montana still has so much for us to explore before we leave here. Last week we visited Bannack State Park, a ghost town that once had at least a couple thousand citizens and now only has 50 buildings, sans citizens. A former mining town gone bust. I guess there are many of those sorts of town around here. In addition, we still haven’t visited Yellowstone or Glacier and that is on our list of things to explore. In the meantime, there is a Master’s degree to get and work to be done. We are feeling welcomed home.

Bannack State Park, school house.

Last days in these green mountains

I am tying up a luxurious 10 week stay in the lush mountains of North Carolina, while Keith still basks in the dry heat of eastern Montana. Today Keith is driving to North Dakota to spend a few days in the Bakken Oil fields. Halliburton is doing some "frac-ing" (pardon my made up spelling) and Keith is particularily interested in watching and learning. I am involved in more mundane chores of packing up summer and heading north.

"You have made your way around this hill country long enough; now turn north." That is from Deuteronomy and like the Israelites, I guess it is time to plod on home.

Baker Oilfields

Summer Days

I love the long days of summer. It is 9 pm and there is still enough light outside to see down across the field. I feel like I should be doing something instead of heading off to prepare for bed (yes, I am getting old and sleepy). But instead, I am preparing for my end of day despite the fact that the light outside is resisting this day’s end.

Keith has settled into his little apartment in Glendive, Montana and from here it seems far across the universe. We made a decision that I would spend the summer in North Carolina while Keith completed his internship with Fidelity Oil Co. So he loaded up his futon mattress, one chair, one cooking pot, a set of silverware and other singular daily necessities and drove from the high hills of Butte to the grasslands of NE Montana. I loaded up dog and every stitch of summer clothing I own (because when else could I wear it???) and headed to my in-laws who have graciously taken me in.

While I wile away my days by the pool, reading novels and moving lethargically through these long days, Keith is visiting the oil fields of N. Dakota and Montana, getting a feel for office life, and branding cattle on the weekends. Yes, I haven’t mistyped: Keith is branding cattle, mending fences, riding horses. He doesn’t have much in his apartment to keep him there and he met a rancher who invited Keith to come work on the weekends, which has meant 13 hour days, rolling in cows**t, and yukking it up with a bunch of true cowboys and cowgirls. Only Keith.

We return to our Butte life in mid-August, when the days may finally be warm there. My big plans for the summer (beyond the pool…yes, I do have goals) include painting and blueberry picking and heading up Minneapolis to spend time with my family. Keith will be dividing his time between the office work in Glendive and visits to the oil fields in Saco, Montana and other parts of the Bakken. Last week he was in Saco, where the mosquitoes are plague like. I guess they will suck blood through jeans as Keith can attest to.

May Day

It is May 1st, and outside it has been snowing almost all day and my friend just called to tell me she has breast cancer, stage 2. My friend, not someone in their 60s, which some of my friends happen to be, but my friend from college, the one that from the first day at my dorm hall meeting I knew I would be friends with. The one that helped me grow up in the second set of formative years that are college life.


I feel helpless only because I actually am. I can’t cure, perform surgery, or medically help in any way. This is the selfish Gena who just wants to be useful. I have watched many women march through the gauntlet of cancer from my days at Hope Cancer Center and I realize the depth of my ineptitude. But I have learned that life isn’t about abilities as much as it is about relationships. So I can offer in my little hands a little compassion and friendship hoping that weak salve can do some little thing.

So if you pray or meditate or whatever it is you do when the chips seem down, do that for my friend. I pray now for her and her children, husband, and family. When tonight these miles seems so especially long between here and my old life, I pray for mercy and hope, peace and healing.

Spring Thaw

I am taking a break from normal Sunday activity (which includes going to the tiny Mtn. View Methodist Church up on the hill—we and one other MTech student are the youngest attendees in the church of maybe 20 people.) So I can write and do nothing. I feel like we have been traveling at warp speed these last few days and maybe that is because I have gotten too used to the slow ticking of time in Butte and anything that moves faster than slow seems too fast. Or maybe it is because we actually have been doing too much (for me). I realize that my favorite pastimes include a lot of alone time: writing, painting, cooking. So I haven’t had much time to do my favorite things and I am feeling a little discombobulated. No worries though it is very easy to hide away here…which is what I intend to do today.

A moose and her calf wandered into town last Tuesday. They were near the filling station, maybe looking for some gas or they wanted to play power ball, I'm not sure. But it did make the front page of the paper. http://mtstandard.com/image_1236bd80-36f3-11df-834d-001cc4c002e0.html

The weather has been beckoning us outdoors, and even after a mild (by Butte standards) winter, I feel a tiny glimmer of warmth and it makes me feel like life is grand, hope is on the horizon, and all that business. Lucy feels it too and has been sitting on the front lawn with her eyes closed and her face stretched toward the sun.

Photos: sharp-tailed grouse and Keith & Lucy at Moulton Reservoir, friendly horses @ Chico.

Keith had his spring break the week before last and for one night we headed to Chico Hot Springs Resort in Pray, Montana (near Yellowstone). Since the resort is dog friendly, Lucy traveled with us and we all hiked in the shadows of the 11,000 ft peaks that circle the resort. Keith and I also sat in the hot springs pool, which normally would be relaxing after a long hike, but Keith (who always likes to add excitement to everything we do) stayed just a little too long in the 104 degree water and briefly passed out on the side of the pool. And the Montanans being Montanans left us to ourselves as I pulled Keith off the ground and ran to get him a cold cup of water. So Keith recovered and we awoke the next morning to a pack of mule deer outside our cabin door. And as the sun came over the high mountains, we hiked a new trail that ended in a horse pasture with very welcoming horses to greet us.

On returning home, we found an offer for an internship with Fidelity Oil for Keith in Glendive, MT. Glendive, where the tourism website says something like, “If your idea of a good time is counting the stars at night and having staring contests with the wild animals, then Glendive is the place for you!” I don’t know about you, but that sounds to me like there is nothing to do in Glendive. It doesn’t matter though, Keith will be working rather than being a tourist and I will be heading back to NC for some green mountain views and leisure time with friends (what a life I lead!).

Finally, with all the spring like weather, we got out yesterday with our friends Jonathan (from Florida) and Mark (from Calgary) for some target shooting up on the East Ridge (called Homestake Pass). I only stayed for an hour or so, but I did get to shoot a 22 and prove that I am not a markswoman, although we never wondered anyhow. Here are the pictures to prove it.

We also went x-country skiing last weekend and made a new friend on the trail. This big ol'thing stayed with me for 5 miles and when I fell, he would sit down and wait patiently for me to get up.  No, he did not come with the barrel around his neck. I still fell deeply in love with him though and evidently he with me.

Home again, home again, jiggety-jig

So here I am again at home that doesn’t completely feel like home, but even familiarity is nice these days…and I am familiar with this town and the good thing is the longer I am here, the more familiar it will seem. (Yes, this positive outlook is a stretch, but I am presently buying it.)

View coming into Butt, I mean Butte and our neighbors Italian Greyhounds: Deniro & Pacino.

I have been home for 2 ½ weeks and the snow is melting, days are getting longer, the semester is half over. It has been warm here, upper 40s, nearly 50. I keep hoping for more snow so I can ski, but alas, I guess I’d have to move to North Carolina for that. Instead, I maneuver around mud holes and slush piles while walking. The thing about thaws is they bring the great uncovering of what has been covered for so long. Sure the snow is drizzling down the downspouts, exposing the roof, the grass is peeking out of the icy clumps, and with all the undressing of winter comes a clear picture of just how much dog poop has accumulated on my lawn.

I counted 5 piles just on my short walk to the mailbox this afternoon. This isn’t from dear Lucy, who prefers to hide in the back to do her business. Have I mentioned the dogs in Butte? You know about the cows in India right? The dogs here seem to have a heightened status. They roam freely through our potholed streets and lawns. The upside to unrestrained dogs is slower traffic on the busy street in front of my house, the downside is the poop. So not only do I swerve through the mud and muck, I must watch for piles as well. I’d take a picture, but that would be vulgar (and aren’t I already borderline in discussing this???).

Old kitchen being disassembled.

                                 New kitchen.

So the kitchen is nearly finished. I have promised pictures to many of you so here they are. Just some tile work left to finish the backsplash and the shelves for the bookcase need to be assembled as well. We are in the process of trying to figure out a way to dye the seafoam vertical blinds in the living room, wood stain, maybe? Who knew something so ugly would cost so much to replace. Any ideas from anyone?

Finally, I wanted to share my friend’s new website he just put together. I met Jim on my plane when I flew back from Italy a few years ago. He is a talented wood turner and if you are interested check out his site. http://www.jsannerud.com/

Home

I am still in Minnesota. Keith and I were talking yesterday and decided that instead of 2 ½ weeks it feels like I have been gone 3 or 4 months. Not that I am not having a wonderful time, which I am. Time creeps in January and February anyhow. So I am attributing the snail’s pace to winter days.

We had to turn in our xc-ski rentals last week (my sister and I) and it promptly began to snow perfect skiing flakes. Today I will strap on snowshoes and head out with my sister’s dog, a black and white noodley looking cute thing named Buddy.

Everything is bright white, all the branches, sidewalks, roads, and already existing snow piles. This is the time of year that a little extra effort of getting outside is rewarded with quiet and peaceful vistas of white. It does take a little extra effort though and yesterday I was thinking how if you didn’t have access to snowshoes, skis, trails, how this long lasting snow could feel so formidable. I couldn’t run outside if I wanted to. Between the calf-deep snow drifts and now hidden icy undercoat, it is a challenge to walk to the car. Well, this might be my former southern experience talking. I know I will get used to it, I know I will.

So I am back home, or at least where I did my growing up years. So naturally I have been thinking a lot about the idea of home. I currently feel shiftless, uprooted, transient. And I am discovering that these feelings are not necessarily bad. These feelings are just what is at the moment. It occurred to me that I have been thinking a lot less about my old home in NC, the home that is now someone else’s home. And really it was just a house: walls, rooms, windows. What made it home was the people who were inside and outside those walls. I miss them. I miss the camaraderie of our street, I miss the ease of connecting with old friends not on my street, but much closer by than the 2200 miles that separate us now. We all had been through a lot together including a lot of life challenges that made us realize how much we needed each other. Death, surgeries, illnesses. But of course sad things aren’t the only uniter, we had birthdays, laughter, successes.

Had I not left that comfortable nest….I would not have learned a new definition of home. Now when I look out my window, I see the Rocky Mountains. I may not have the camaraderie of my former life, but I feel like both Keith and I are growing closer, learning about maintaining friendships and being open to developing new ones. I also may not feel my Montana home is my rooted place, but I am glad for my new friends and the new views. Who knows where we will end up, we do have a map (3 years of grad school), but we don’t really know the destination. Sometimes not knowing even what we are doing this summer feels a little overwhelming. And sometimes it feels like a great, big adventure. I keep hoping the latter feeling presents itself more often than the former. No matter what, by May I will know something and really that is not so far away (despite these long winter days).

Over the weekend, Jeff, Janna, and I packed up our snowshoes and headed out at dusk to the City of Lakes Loppet Luminary 5K (noncompetitive). Whatever that means right??? We had no idea, but since it sounded mysteriously interesting we signed up and showed up for a 6 p.m. start time. The luminary loppet turns out to be a course around the Lake of the Isles (one of the Minneapolis city lakes) lined with ice sculptures and candles. Lovely, amazing. Just another reminder that this rootless, shiftless-feeling person is having some pretty wonderful experiences, just because I stepped out of my regular routine.

Toaster Oven Days

I am in Minnesota for a few weeks getting a new view. So I have left my camera back in Butte, so you will have to forgive the lack of photos. (That is the most interesting element I know.) I had taken pictures of my feet in Yaktracs so you all could see how I was getting around the icy streets of Butte. Instead just close your eyes and picture feet clad in a rubbery web of metal coils….keeps me from cracking my head open on the open ice rinks that were once roads in my new fair city.
We have had lots of white powdery even feathery snow before I left for MN, so I got my super long xc-skis out of the garage, dusted off the layer of sawdust from Keith’s kitchen project and headed out to the lovely golf course behind our house. My first winter sport experience in Butte and now I am hooked. I go to sleep thinking how I can get a ski in the next day. I sail (slowly, wobbly even) through blankets of pure white and feel peaceful and happy and, when it is all said and done, contentedly tired. Lucy loves the wide open spaces of the golf course and runs full speed as if she was racing the snow she kicks up next to her.
So our kitchen is torn asunder. Outdoor/Indoor carpet gone and old grimy cabinets pulled out and into the dumpster. Just the skeleton left, thanks to helpful engineering friends who like to talk about porosity and complex equations and other things I don’t understand. No kitchen means simple meals at home and a heavy reliance on the toaster oven, which can be coaxed into all sorts of uses: thawing, baking, roasting, heating a room for a dough rise, it’s magical. Or rather, it is a desperate attempt at a semblance of a home-cooked meal. I even made banana bread in the toaster oven. A bit dry and overbaked on the edges and gooey in the middle, but it will do. We also have the griddle, which is great for eggs, pancakes, quesadillas, sautéing vegetables. Fancy stuff.
No kitchen has sent me back to MN for a few weeks. My time away gives Keith a few moments to not hear me ask when the tile will be going down, and when are the cabinets going in. Well, I still ask from far away, but I don’t have to devise more toaster oven meals or sit and stare at the empty space that once was a kitchen. Plus, I get the added benefit of seeing family and my sweet nieces. AND my sister has a golf course across from her house, so I am back at the xc-skiing.
Groundhog day is today, and I am GLAD that the furry rodent saw his shadow because I want six more weeks of winter (well, aren’t I assured that just by living in Butte???). What is wrong with me??? Did I ever think I would say I wanted more cold and dismal? But when the snow is gone, no more skiing, no more snow shoeing, and I like this stuff. It is a nice break from a year of hard running. I guess by May I will feel differently, but for now this is white, powdery heaven.
I am including a recent photo Keith sent me from the beginning of the cabinet installation. I know you are waiting with baited breath for my cabinets to get installed. Just beside yourselves. Thanks for caring so deeply. Well, it is all I have photo wise. So take it or leave it. In the meantime, I am headed out for a day of skiing and family time.