Rambling Thoughts

Christmas has come and gone for another year.  It is time to move toward 2013.  The winter weather came on Christmas Eve and dusted everything in a coat of white.  Sleds came out along with the boots, warm coats, gloves and hats.  When I was a kid we always went sledding on New Years Day.  It was a cold experience.  No water proof clothes kept our hands and feet warm and dry.  In spite of being cold and wet, we had fun and walked up and down the hill getting in as many rides as possible before we couldn't bear the cold any longer.


The shortest day of the year has turned the corner toward the longest one.  Mentally it is nice to know that days will gradually get longer adding a few more seconds of light each day.  If I lived where the seasons changed very little, I would feel cheated.  With every season there is a sense of renewal  and eager anticipation of what will come.  Lives are measured by the seasons.

I am trying to teach myself to enjoy the moment I am in and not always look ahead. There is no need to rush from day to day or season to season. ' Stopping to smell the roses' is an old saying, but will always have meaning.  It is comparable to reminding ourselves to take a deep breathe.  My goal for 2013 is to slow down, relax and just breath.  Let things happen as they will.  I don't have to be in charge.  I wish I was a coffee drinker then I could try all the varieties and just sit and savor the flavor.  Coffee drinkers sit and enjoy their cup slowly drinking until the contents are gone.

I will see how the year turns out and what progress I make.  One has to wonder at what point in life you start to run.  I ran up and down the sleigh hill not because I was in a hurry, but because I was having fun.  Maybe it is time to find the child hidden somewhere inside and push the grownup me back a little.

Teton Valley--an early winter day--

could this be a good place to sled?

Nothing Stays the Same

Traditions are important and give us a sense of belonging.  They tie families and friends together providing a venue for recalling old memories and creating new ones.  Holiday memories are deep and are added upon year by year.  The holidays of childhood are easily recalled and perhaps a little embellished as they are shared and carried with us through the years.  But memories broaden as years pass and new people enter our lives.

As a newly married couple we shared three Thanksgivings with our parents and then found ourselves on the east coast far from family.  New friends took the place of family and Thanksgiving was celebrated in their home.  They too were far from family and gladly invited us to create a new kind of family.  It was the beginning of understanding that we can go beyond what we know and still find a spot in which we fit.

The following Thanksgiving we again found ourselves in a new place still far from family.  It was our first little family Thanksgiving with two little boys.  The day was still full of traditions and familiar food, but now we were introducing our family to our Thanksgiving.  It was not empty or lonely with just the four of us. It was tight and warm.  We eventually moved closer to our parents and siblings and our little group of four was now six.  We shared a few holidays which included grandparents, but now it was our home they came to.

Our children now have families of their own and extended families as well  We have adapted to the  changes and made Thanksgiving fit the various schedules and obligations.  Usually we celebrate a week early and have ham so no one has to eat turkey twice in one week. This year we dumped the whole dinner idea and went for the desserts.  There were no complaints and perhaps this will be a new tradition.  Our daughter was the host and organizer this year.  It is okay to make changes and move with the times.  Life is still rich and full.

Nolan and I spent the actual day in La Jolla, California with Neils and his new wife.  It was their first Thanksgiving and the start of their own traditions.  Who knows what next year will bring or where we will be or how much of our family will celebrate together. The bottom line---even apart we are still together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

      

  

       

 

 

 

Those Holidays

 It is time for honesty.  There are three holidays approaching:  Halloween ( yea, yea), Thanksgiving
 and Christmas.  Thanksgiving I acknowledge slightly and without much fanfare.  Yes, I am a grateful person. I am thankful for the Pilgrims who made the long and dangerous voyage to America.  They struggled  through that first winter with very little to sustain them.  They planted crops in the spring and managed to nurture them into harvest time.  I am sure they were excited to celebrate their survival and a bounteous harvest.  After all, there had been very little reason to have a party.  Whoopee for them.  They enjoyed cooking for large crowds.  Every Native American in the neighborhood was invited.

Here I step aside and separate myself from them.  I have cooked many Thanksgiving meals in my 42 years of marriage, which entailed, peeling and boiling potatoes, rolling pie crusts for pumpkin pies, which were always less than flaky, made dressing and rolls from scratch.  I did great disservice to the turkey before I discovered disposable cooking bags.  My kids were pretty much grown by the time I figured out how to cook a turkey that wasn't dry.  By that time stove top stuffing had also appeared and the precious little darlings informed me that they preferred stove top rather than my homemade dressing.  I had already turned to canned turkey gravy so the addition of short cut dressing was no problem.

I once  invited my in laws to Thanksgiving dinner and served a beautiful, brown, crispy, dry turkey with the sack of organs still inside the cavity of the bird.  I will chalk that one up to first turkey attempt and to the fact that I had no idea you were suppose to reach inside the turkey and explore.  I did improve as the years went on.  My rolls were excellent almost from the get go.  I love making anything that involves dough.  Perhaps, it is the hands on--the feel of the dough as you shape and mold it.  There is much more satisfaction in bread making than from slinging a dead bird around.

This Thanksgiving I am cooking with my new Australian daughter in law.  Poor girl!  She has suggested a turkey breast.  I think she is already more astute about Thanksgiving than I was as a newly wed.  I watched my mother cook the dry bird for 21 years.  Everything I learned, I learned from her.  (sorry Mom)   I think Briana has an advantage--she is starting fresh on her own turf which she can create in her own way.  Besides she can consult the net---sometimes much better than following in someone else's footsteps.

Thanksgiving this year will be spectacular, fun and one I am looking forward to.  Then I just have to get through my next least favorite holiday--Christmas.  I am sorry, but I will open up and confess--my favorite holidays are Fourth of July and Halloween.  I hope this confession has not tarnished my motherhood star too much. 

Fall Color

Fall is a treat which tickles our senses: the smell of the wet leaves crunching under our feet and the stimulating colors of orange, yellow and brilliant red.  The air is fresh and slightly crisps with gentle wind ushering in the next season.  Things slow down after summer's.  The hot days are behind us and the garden has frozen; now is the time to take deep breaths and savor the colors around us.

Fall always carries just a ting of sadness.  It is short lived and ends abruptly in a flurry of wind and cold.  The trees stand stark with their colors striped. The ground is littered with the faded colors that were so vivid only a few days earlier.  Soon the ground will be covered in a blanket of white and the leaves will be a memory.

There is a need to be immersed in the glories of fall.  It is as if we need to absorb the colors and crispness of the season to carry us through to spring.

 

 

 

Pictures taken along the Logan River--Logan, Utah

Travel is the Window to the World

Travel is the window to the world.  So what window I have  opened lately--New York--The Big Apple--the mega city--- Times Square and Broadway the strip of the east.  Vegas taxi drivers and New York City taxi drivers all attended the same school.  It is called the School of Honk and Keep Moving.  It lacks in some areas of all around education; such as language, honest answers and communication skills. It is mainly a hands on program.where the main emphasis of focus is merging into or in front of traffic, braking for red lights, squeezing into a small parking space to unload passengers, hefting bags from the trunk and extending their hand toward you in one motion.

New York hums and moves continuously --a city full of people shifting positions and locations smoothly and effortlessly.  It all comes through years of practice and acceptance of the life style.
They find comfort in the crowds and noise--it is where they belong.  New Yorkers find nothing strange about walking to Central Park with chickens in a dog stroller so they can play. I do!  My mind instantly went to the condition of the stroller after chickens have spent even  a few minutes in it.  Where do these chickens live?  Can you keep them in an apartment or on a terrace? 

A large population of the most talented people in the world live in NYC;  perhaps too much talent in one spot.  I marvel at their ability to get up in front of hundreds of people and share it.  As a watcher I get lost in the performance which flows seamlessly unaware of the years of struggle and work it has taken to stand on the stage.  LUCKY ME I was in the audience letting them entertain me.went fast

Three days went fast, but it was enough.  Next time if there is a next time I'm going to Brooklyn.  You have to venture out and see it all--there is much more! 

Watch out for those yellow things.  They eat you alive.

       
    Bubble Blower in Central Park.  The kids went nuts chasing and popping the huge bubbles.

Empire State Building

   sleeping it off in Central Park

   bridge in Central Park--just pretty to look at

 

 

 

Fall Comes

The fall colors are just starting in Jackson Hole.  Soft yellows mingle with the fading green and the air is slightly brisk.  This is the perfect biking weather.  A light jacket feels good and is just enough to cut the early morning chill.  Starting from Teton Village and riding to Wilson is not a long ride, probably 15 mile trip.  Sometimes a designate bike trail is a real treat---  no cars, smooth riding, and picture perfect scenery.

Some how everything seems better with a little exercise---a slice of cheese, a fresh loaf of French bread and a cold drink.  What more could you ask for? Seems to me this all makes for a perfect day.

 

120 Years Old

How do you celebrate a 120st birthday?  With a BIG party.  The Hartman Farm in Parma turned 120 this week.  It has been in the family four generations and is healthy, active, and thriving.  Through love, tender care, good business practices and the ability to make changes as farming entered the world of technology, the Hartman family has been able to maintain and sustain their heritage.  Bill and John Hartman along with their wives and two sons are the 21st century care takes.  Well done Hartman family--all four generations.

Not only can they farm, but they can throw a great party.  The doors of the onion warehouse were thrown open and to accommodate the huge crowd of well wishers.  This is the only farm I know of that as a color scheme--teal blue and white.  The work trucks and semis are all painted in these colors.  The warehouse turned into a party house with teal table clothes on dozens of tables with center pieces taken from the fields--onions and various other plants in jars with purple ribbons tied around them.  Great food and live music, people visiting while moving from table to table, rearranging chairs to make room for another person and laughter, made for a good time.

In today's world where we focus so much on the bad, it was refreshing to see so many friends and family come together to celebrate.  Thanks Hartmans' for a good evening. 

The best view of the farm is from the back deck of the house.

Onion field beside the house

    From the fields

Let the fun begin

friends sharing the evening and each other's company

Bill Hartman on left

Bill's wife  Kathy  (my neice)