I have a hope chest in which I keep my treasures in.  Before Marc and I were married, I used it to keep the things that I needed to start my housekeeping with.  I would pick up odds and ends in hopes of someday having my own home.  Kitchen towels I couldn't live without.  The perfect set of measuring cups.   A set of candles my bitchy grandma gave me one time in a short burst of humanity.  Just stuff.  To it I would also add treasures from my daughter's life.  Her 3 toy friends she couldn't live without the first 3 years of her life, Bunny, Elmo and Maggie.  A picture she drew that was adorable. Her little Pavlic Harness she had to wear as a newborn to correct her hipdisplacia.  A baby nightgown. Little things.  After Marc and I were married, I removed the usables and kept the keepables and added newables.  The funeral services of my other grandma, the nice one. My daughters baby book, my wedding announcement from the paper.  Good school work she brought home.  Love letters from when Marc and I were dating, the times when couples are extra nice to eachother.  Reminders of first dates, baby shoes,a wedding picture of my first husband and I.  A lie on Kodak proof I am forced to keep in case my daughter ever wants to see what he looked like.
  Today, I'm going through my emails looking for a friends' address for shipping.  I come across a letter from my husband from when we first started dating.  An email from a friend's husband propositioning me while his wife was out of town.  Proof of my innocence and his guilt.  A forwarded email from one of my oldest friends  about fruit cake of all things. I realize how the internet how has somehow taken away another tradition of sorts.  It began by removing the need for a handwritten letter.  Who didn't enjoy checking the mail and admidst the bills and trash mail was a envelope with our name on it written in sloppy cursive? We would get excited or nervous. An unexpected gift of information.  Was it good news? Bad? We would either tear it open immediately or wait till we were in our house to enjoy it in private. The same with diaries.  Everyday details of life.  I have my great-grandma's journals.  She wrote in them every day of her life from age 16 on to death.  Births, marriages, deaths, recipes, company.  Even when the family cow had calved.  Where has this daily habit gone? Here. Right here, in these "blogs" written by people every day  on every subject.  Hopefully like my grandma's journals, maybe someday, these will be found by somebody who cares enough to hourd them away in their own hope chest. So to make  a short story long.  Here is a golden oldy dug out of my virtual hope chest to be put in my cyber life journal to be enjoyed by someone else sitting in front of a glowing screen somewhere outside my kitchen.  A fruitcake recipe for the holidays.  Enjoy and be sure to read the entire recipe.

Fruit cake Recipe:

       1 cup water
       1 cup sugar
       4 large eggs
       2 cups dried fruit
       1 teaspoon baking soda
       1 teaspoon salt
       1 cup brown sugar
       lemon juice
        nuts
       1 gallon whiskey

Sample the whiskey to check for quality.
Take a large bowl.
Check the whiskey again to be sure it is of the highest quality.
Pour one level cup and drink.
Repeat.
Turn on the electric mixer; beat 1 cup butter in a large, fluffy bowl.
Add 1 teaspoon sugar and beat again.
Make sure the whiskey is still OK.  Cry another tup.  Turn off mixer.
Break 2 legs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit.
Mix on the turner.
If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers, pry it loose with a
drewscriver.
Sample the whiskey to check for tonsisticity.
Next, sift 2 cups of salt.  Or something. Who cares?
Check the whiskey.
Now sift the lemon juice and strain your nuts.
Add one table.  Spoon.  Of sugar or something.  Whatever you can find.
Grease the oven.
Turn the cake tin to 350 degrees.
Don't forget to beat off the turner.
Throw the bowl out of the window.
Check the whiskey again.
Go to bed.

   Who the hell likes fruitcake anyway?

We got this (ugh) forward this morning from some friends.  Usually I just roll my eyes at these things but this one made me giggle.    True friendship is rarely pretty.  It's holding someone's hair while they puke in the bushes kind of reality.  It's not having a problem changing your friend's baby's shitty pants kind of pretty.  i love that kind of relationship.  So we get this corny forward an it made me nod knowingly.  So even though I'm sure we have all seen it before, I'm going to share it with you .  Enjoy


True Friendship:

 1 When you are sad -- I will help you get drunk and plot
revenge against
>  the sorry bastard who made you that way.
>
>  2. When you are blue -- I will try to dislodge whatever is
choking you.
>
>  3. When you smile -- I will know you finally got laid.
>  4. When you are scared -- I will rag on you about it every
chance I get.
>  5. When you are worried -- I will tell you horrible stories
about how
>  much worse it could be until you quit whining.
>  6. When you are confused -- I will use little words.
>
>  7. When you are sick -- Stay the hell away from me until you
are well
>  again. I don't want to catch whatever you have.
>  8. When you fall -- I will point and laugh at your clumsy
ass.
>
>  9. This is my oath..... I pledge it to the end. "Why?" you
may ask ?,
>  "Because you are my friend".
>  Friendship is like peeing your pants: everyone can see it,
but only you
>  can feel the true warmth.

Ok, So my city mouse has tagged me with a "7 random things" blog.  I love this concept.  However, I am completely illegetimate when it comes to all matters of computers so I can't play by the rules.  So I will cheat and just put them here.  Heck, I dunno if there is even 7 people who read this blog! If not, City Mouse, you are required to read it twice.  So this is what I received:

Seven random things

Posted on Nov 26th, 2007 by Debi

I was tagged by Andrea at http://meenakshi.zaadz.com/blog

Here are the rules:

1. Link to the person's blog who tagged you.

2. Post these rules on your blog.

3. List seven random and/or weird facts about yourself.

4. Tag seven random [?] people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.

5. Let each person know that they have been tagged by posting a comment on their blog. or shout-out wall [added by Meenakshi when I saw what people are actually doing].

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seven random and/or weird facts about myself.

1. I have an illogical and pretty much baseless ban on Barney in my house. I hate him, and I don't know why.

2. I have to sleep with something covering whatever ear is facing up.

3. Chocolate chip cookies are my favorite food.

4. I will only eat fruit if it's really perfect -- I'd rather eat no fruit than mediocre fruit.

5. Though I don't want any more babies or any more pregnancies, I would actually love to give birth again.

6. I have such a strong astigmatism that, until it was properly corrected, I had what I thought was a totally irrational fear of escalators. I could never figure out when to put my foot down on the first step!

7. I think I like kindergarten as much or more than my daughter does!

People I'm tagging [after trying to ensure they haven't been tagged by others]:

Jen: http://peacelovingmama.zaadz.com/

Ohmsmom: http://ohmdog.zaadz.com/

Juli (come on! start your blog!): http://julihernandez.zaadz.com/

Shannon: http://earthmama.zaadz.com/

Stori (time to get back into it, Mama!): http://alaskalogcabin.zaadz.com/

Karen (who has probably done this meme or something like it many times before): http://www.freerangelibrarian.com

Matthew (take a bouncing break and write something sillier!): http://matthew.zaadz.com/blog

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
And here is what I respond:

1. I am incredibly afraid of the dark outside.  I'm ok in my house, but outside? Not ok.
2.  I was born blind in my left eye, and because of that, people assume I'm not that bright because I cock my head to the side when I look at them.  Picture an obedient dog sitting on the floor and you speak to them.  Head cocking, not a sign of intelligence.
3.  I have a birthmark combined with a stretch mark on my lower back/butt that is in the shape of a perfect bulleye
4.I have  been pregnant 5 times
5.My food can't touch on my plate
6.My favorite smells are warm horse sweat, puppy breath, and my baby's neck
7. Being in the wind will make me sad to the point of depression.  Even having the car window down will ruin my mood somedays.

There, that concludes today's tour of Weird Stori World.

My daughter cried today and I was very proud of her for doing it. 

I write on these entries about all the love and beauty of my life living this lifestyle.  Our animals, our rural lifestyle, being pretty close to self sustaining.  However, to truly appreciate beauty we must face some ugliness in our lives.  I believe there is nothing truly for free in  life.  Everything comes with a price.  That price may just be the cost of returned emotions all the way to going againest your own morals.

My entire life we have had animals.  I am lucky enough to say I have personally witnessed literally thousands of births.  These everyday miracles that a lot of people in different environments will rarely get the chance to see.  I never had any questions about sex as a kid.  I knew what it was and I knew what is was for.  Puberty was not a surprise for me either.  All females basically experience the same concept of mentrual cycles as we do.  So when I did start my period, it was a very natural transition into the next of life for me.  It was not scary or gross at all, it just was.  No different than our sows coming into heat, or my mare being particulary bitchy one week a month.  I have personally met homosexual animals.  We invested a lot of time in one sow just to find out that when she did come into heat, she had absolutely no interest in our boar, just the other sows.  The same with a sheep we had.  Just as there is hetrosexuals and homosexuals, I also recoginize that there are nonsexuals.  People and animals that aren't interested in either male or female fellow creatures.  They just don't have the sexual urge to breed or procreate. It's just not in them.  This led me to being a very accepting adult.  It's not a choice or a crime againest anyone's god. It's just part of natural life.  No more that I can change being born a red head. 

Anyway, I digress.  My daughter cried. That was the point of today's little cyber-burp.

Today was the day we had to butcher hogs.  We had only two this year.  Butchering is just a fact of life sometimes.  My family is very mythodical, very careful, and very very respectful about the whole act.  However, no amount of knowledge or respect takes away the fact that we took two lives today.  Had they been two human men, we would all  likely be put to death ourselves.  Since they were pigs, it's now just considered cheaper pork.  My boy and I were walking over to the barn to collect eggs when we heard the first gunshot.  My daughter was in the yard (away from the actual act) and she was crying.  I was thankful.  This shows me she is capable of empathy and sympathy, and she was also able to give the act the respect and seriousness it deserves.  The hogs had given a huge sacrifice, albeit againest their will I'm sure, they gave it none the less. I held her and kissed her hair.  I always warned her not to make friends with the ones that we knew were going to be used for this purpose.   All the animals were silent for a while. But life goes on, my father was able to get a good price for the meat, therefore he will not have to worry when the price of heating fuel goes high this winter.  He and my mom will always be warm.  Mom will be able to afford a new sewing machine since her's broke this weekend.  We still have four sows that will be having their own babies in a bit over 3 months.  With life comes death. Just like the Disney cartoons, it is just a big circle of life.  Does that thought make me feel better? No. I hate the thought of killing anybody, no matter the species.  Does me not liking it change the facts? No.  Will I be cooking pork of any kind anywhere in the near future? Hell no.  It takes me awhile to forget the sounds, and the actions, and the outcome.  But I'm realistic.  There is a price to everything.

So I bring up Zaadz homepage today to take a look around and  just end up feeling like a fraud.  Here's all these people CHANGING THE WORLD.  I mean, wow.  That's kind of a big order isn't it? Where as I, and I giggle when I say this,  CHANGE DIAPERS.  Is life so complicated or is mine just so simplified? Please don't take me wrong, I would love to think of myself as a deep person.  In fact, I used to.  I started college when I was only 15 and I majored in philosophy.  Talk about presumptutious.  A lot I knew.  Thinking I could even form semi-complex thoughts at 15 about the real world.  Good grief, I had not even stepped foot into this gigantic scary place at that age, but I knew it all.  Just ask me, and I would have told you.  Philosophy, <snort>, I didn't even know how much I didn't know.  So at 15, had I been on here, I would have been glad to change the world with everybody else.  Hell, I would have the time to change the world and still have perfect hair at the same time.  Now, 15 years later. Man, 15 years.  The world has gotten so huge at some points, swallowing me like an acidic little pill and shrunk to the size of a small room at others.  Through  marriages and breakups. Pregnancies and lost babies.  Shared goals to dead husbands. Broken down to the point I prayed my heart would just stop beating to stop the pain to points of such strength and elevation, I could beat my chest and holler at injustices with the best of them.  So so many hard lessons learned. And learned. And learned.  After all these life classes, I have learned that I know nothing.  That I am a simple hardworking woman.  I have scars that are visible and deep jagged gashes that no one will ever see.  My hands are calloused, my eyes framed my tiny lines, gravity no longer invites me to the cool kids' parties.  I live in a harsh place so my life revolves around the weather.  The season condemns me to certain activities and frees me for others.  It's fall now.  Winter will be here any day.  I stop when the leaves fall from the birch trees in autumn showers.  Just to enjoy the beauty and to say a long goodbye to  anything resembling life in the sun.  I took a short walk to my dad's house today with my sun.  We ended up on a 30 minute detour to look for new nests the hens may have hidden from us.  We don't need easter to have an egg hunt in our life.  We search the calf pen, the hay stack, the small pile of kindling beside the straw pile.  We go say a hello to "Wi" to my son or Willis to the rest of us.  He is a 300 lb boar hog with a heart of gold.  Always glad to get visitors and will always stop to come chat with us.  We give him a good scratch on the back and he rewards us with a gap toothed pig smile.  He has had 4 new girlfriends that moved in with him the last couple days.  They are very busy figuring out the big business of baby pig manufacturing.  Willis sure doesn't mind the lessons.  We stop to talk to our small family of cows.  Nanna, the momma and maker of the milk.  My son calls milk "Nanna Juice".  We don't correct him.  Miley, Nanna's son, also known as Shitso.  What a brat.  Very insolant, lacking all of his mother's manners.  And Ferdi, our small bright red bull.  Shines like a copper penny.  Very gentle natured but quick to get his feelings hurt.  Not a quick mover.  Sometimes takes us a good 15 minutes to walk to the field with him since he is so busy inspecting every little new object on the way.  Kind, huge eyes completely lacking of fear.    All horses are called Jake to my boy so we go to greet all 3 Jakes.  Heidi lowers her giant head over the fence to snort boy's hair.  Blows in his face and makes my toddler laugh hisself silly.  Jake a bit standoffish until he's sure I have a treat in my pocket.  Little tiny Queen Rosie fighting for her place at the fence.  Looking like she is one of the big kid's newborns.  Very small and so incredibly brave.  A total momma through and through.  We will soon be breeding her to a donkey jack.  We come back home to lunch with my husband.  I snuggle boy into a nap. Sneak back downstairs, argue with myself for a minute and finally lose the battle over pie.  I cut myself a big slab of fresh punkin pie that I had just made this morning and was still cooling on the counter.  Still warm on the inside.  MMMMmmm.  As my daughter used to say " Me likes pie".  I write here and will soon start supper for my family.  My parents come over every night and eat with us.  Hard to imagine any other way.  Having pork roast (from our farm)  mashed potatoes (from our field) with gravy, carrots ( our garden), and butternut squash.  We will drink huge glasses of cold fresh milk from our Nanna in the home my husband built with his own hands.  It has rained all day but my bird feeders are all out of the weather so the little guys can still eat  while warm and dry.  I don't know as if I CHANGED THE WORLD.  I did, however, make some damn fine pie.

Good morning world! Good grief, what a busy summer it has been.  So much going on but I still managed to slow down enough to smell the wind and listen to the birds.  It was beautiful up here in Alaska.  We usually have at least one huge fire that smokes us out most of the summer, not this year.  Not too much rain, not too little.  Plenty warm, not too warm.  Not too many bugs.  One of those- life doesn't suck- summers. 

Me belly is getting  bigger by the minute.  I have just around 7 more weeks to go before the baby gets here.  I have sailed through this pregnancy owning the world.  I truly hope this is an omen of good things and easy times to come.  I don't do too bad considering I'm over 7 1/2 months along and I can still do chores, work my horses, and play outside without feeling like crap. Didn't get too chubby neither! Whew.

The big news (there's a couple)-  My boy is 2!!!!  We made it.  It was a spongebob filled saturday with pinatas, partys,  and brand new Jchu Jchu's (those are trucks to the non colt speaking folks).  I tell my husband, every birthday feels like I'm getting away with something with my little boy.  Like I cheated the fates and wasn't really supposed to get to keep him this long.  My husband, (the eternal I knew it all alonger) says no.  It wasn't that big of a deal.   I either want to kiss him for his optimism or slap him for his cockiness and lack of fear.  In any case.  My boy is now a " Big boy".  He got to move his room upstairs with his big sister G.  Out of mom and dad's room.  No longer in a high chair most of the time, he gets to sit in the "big down" with G also.  Still a crappin his britches.  Not even close to becoming potty trained.  I don't push him.  Kids are ready when they are ready.  He is not.

Second big news.  G ( my 9 year old daughter) took 1st in the state finals for Cowboy Mounted Shooting in her division.  After never taking 1st in any of the shoots all summer, and working her scrawny little butt off, and even falling off the first day of finals, G did it.  I was so proud I could've busted.  This is no little girl on a tiny little pony either.  She rides mom's horse.  Jake is a big ol' 15.3 hand appaloosa.  A huge horse by most any standards.  1350 lbs being reined and ridden and ruled over by a little 70 lb girl like a cham-peen.  She also started 4th grade this past monday. Worse yet, started wearing Deoderant!! Unacceptable as far as I'm concerned.  She is not  allowed to keep growing up.   And speaking of ponies...

Third big news.  We have a new addition to the family..  Now anyone who has ever known me knows I have always been anti-pony.  I have never had any use for a small horse.  I like horses like I like my men....big and gentle.  Ponies tend to be cursed with Napoleanic complexes.  Nasty little creatures that try to kill you any chance they get.   Well, sad to say, I'm almost converted.  We have found Lil' Rosie.  She is a welch mountain pony and her back is barely  as tall as my hip.  A puny 12 hands compared to my other two monsters.  (A hand equals 4 inches in horse measurements)  And as far as killer ponies goes, she is a little maternal angel.  Such a sweetie.  Now here's the clincher on why we wasted our hard earned money on her.  She drives.  Oh my god is she fun.  She came with her own little cart and harness.  drives like a little red fuzzy cadillac.   I hate to say it, but it is probably one of the funnest things I have ever done with a horse.  We go everywhere.  And you would not believe how fast those little stubby legs can move!  She can make your hair blow back and your eyes water at a simple trot.  Sad to say, I'm in love all over again and have added a new equine addiction to my list.  Next season I will start driving her in the wagon division of the mounted shooting.  I will drive and my friend will do the shooting.  I am very excited!  

Well I'm sure I have more news share but I'm out of coffee so I'll close for now.  Oh, and my husband has finished our beautfiul covered porch.  Oooh i love it when it rains and to sit out there.  

Special note to my blogger friend and sister in arms in the fight againest all things pukey...
I'm really glad you had a great vacation to Alaska.  I can't wait till the next time I can go to the ocean.  I would love to hear all about it. Did you get a chance to see the whales?  How did the daylight affect you guys?  It's pretty weird to those not used to all the light all the time. Till next time.   

I fell asleep last night to the sound of song birds.  At 11 o'clock at night.  I never really think about things like that.  I haven't seen darkness in about 3 weeks or so.  I love it.  It's hard for my kids to go to sleep though.  We have had to put up cardboard on the bedroom windows for the baby boy.  He thinks if it's light out, he gets to go outside and play.  The birds were beautiful last night.  I can stand on my porch and listen to owls, finchs, chickadees, white crowned sparrow and a barage of other little noise makers all at the same time.  Our chickens finally gave up trying to figure out when bedtime is and they were all in the coop at 7 last night.  Thank goodness we have some bossy roosters that have some sense about them or them nutty hens would be out all night long.  We finally have a wood duck hen nesting in the box we made for her.  We'll be seeing baby ducks jumping  down from 15 feet in the air into the slough water soon enough.  Everybody is so busy in the summer time.

The little picture that I have attached to my profile is my baby filly, Heidi.  She'll be turning 3 this month.  I don't think I have ever met a kinder person in my life.  She's a pretty big horse now and will only grow bigger.  Her sire (or father) is half percheron and half clydesdale draft horse.  Her dam (mother) is thoroughbred. Regular warm blooded horses finish growing at about 4 or so.  Drafts keep going till they are around 6 years old.  She's already the same size as my appaloosa, Jake, who is a huge horse by most standards.  She has no idea she is not a person like me.  I never had to break her, she never thought anything wrong with me riding her in the first place.  As long as we are together, she is happy.  I think if i gave her an oppurtunity, she would sit on my lap and sleep at the foot of my bed.  Whenever she sees me, she has to give a horsey version of a hug.  Wraps her huge head over my shoulder and neck and pulls me close to her chest.  She heaves a big sigh and gives a soft smell.  When she is scared she runs to put her forehead againest my chest.  I think she would put herself in danger before she ever hurt me.  She's such a dork.  She chases ravens.  And ever time she runs and bucks, she gives a little squeal and farts.  Then seems totally embarassed about it afterward.  Why is it that I can become better friends with a silly little black horse than I could dream of with another human besides my husband? 

Why is it that the world is cruel enough to make us love these creatures and then not them live as long as we do? 

We got a little yorkie dog in 1992.  Her name is Yoda and she is very brave for being 2 lbs.  She's had many babies and many accidents.  She was tough enough to get her eye bit out in a dog fight in 96. Still, only 2 lbs and picking fights with labs.  She's blind now, and deaf.  But she recoginizes us by the smell of our feet.  She started having strokes night before last.  She now wears a little tiny diaper and hasn't eaten very well since.  We don't think she's going to make it much longer.  She's 16 years old.  Not a spring chicken anymore.  We watch to make sure she is not suffering.  We owe the kindness of helping her let go before she starts to hurt.  It's a shame that we are unable to pay this same kindness to our human family members when it's time.  I want to tell her it's ok.  That she can go if she wants.  There are lots of toads to chase on the other side and it's easier when you can see again.  She's another very kind person that I have had the pleasure of knowing in my life. I will always remember her.

Loretta still has not calved yet.  She started showing pink and passing mucus yesterday.  She had done nothing but bath Conway for the last two days.  Conway is last year's calf and she still mothers him to death.  His hair is entirely curly now from her constant licking.  Obviously her maternal instincts have kicked in.  She's very uncomfortable and grunty.  Not eating all her grain.  It'll be no time at all now.  She's a very homely cow in the face but one of the sweetest I have met.  We are excited to meet our new family member.  This is the second time I have gotten to share a pregnancy with a milk cow. With my son, our cow and I were due within a week  of eachother.  Cow and human have the same gestation period.  Pretty fun.  Sure is fitting that the same week, we are letting one friend go and welcoming one new one in our lives.  Guess that completes a type of circle doesn't it?

Well after several months of fighting the internet battle in interior alaska, I'm back online! Only now I have one of these obnoxious laptops to learn how to deal with.

The big news since I have blogged....I'm now 15 weeks pregnant. Morning sickness is overwith, my belly looks like I'm shoplifting cantelopes, and I'm liable to cry over just about anything.  Went to go pick up our hogs yesterday at little farm about an hour from here.  They have about 160 head of beef cows.  I had my kids over by the fence watching the maternity ward version of a pen when one of the cows started calving. It was by far the first time for me to see it, hell, I've been shoulder deep inside many a momma cow with not so much as a cocktail before hand.  It was the first time for my kids though.  None the less, there goes the waterworks.  Oh, the beauty of birth. <snort> nothing pretty about it.  It's bloody and snotty and violent.  But it's still a miracle every single time.  Anyway, to make a short story long, it was a good day.  We now have 6 nice lookin hogs.

Spring has sprung here.  Earlier than most years too.  The snow is already gone and most the mud dried up.  After never getting warmer than 40 below zero the whole month of March, we were due I think.  I have been able to go riding a couple times so far, hopefully a lot more here in the next week.  Since my husband just finished building our cabin late last summer, I will get a chance this year to work on a yard. My daughter is in 4-h this year and will start showing horses alot.  Tons of work there.  All in all, it's going to be a good season I think.

For those who might have read my earliest entries to this blog will know.  I had a lot of trouble when my son was born almost two years ago.  If anybody was wondering about this pregnancy, Yes, I am scared to death. Somedays I have to remind myself to breathe.  But there's nothing I can do to prevent anthing like that from happening again, so I just try not to worry about and enjoy this gestation as my last.  I'll be getting spayed once this baby gets here so I won't have to stress again.

Keep posted because our milk cow, Loretta, is due to have her calf next Saturday, the 5th of May.  That's always pretty exciting!!!

Have you ever been heartsick for the smell of certain air?  Or how the earth spins just a bit differently in different places?  I left Colorado over 8 years ago now and I still find myself doing a search on here for people from there.  No offense to anybody, but not Denver there.  Where I grew up, Denver was more closely linked to the invading Californians than to the state of CO.  I remember as a little girl, standing outside, smelling the wind. I could always smell the rain long before it ever got to us.  A faint whiff of moist sagebrush rolling over the mountains. Pretty soon, the thunder clouds would show up, and depending on the color, you  could tell if you were in for a gully washer or not.  I grew up on the back of a horse in high country desert.  Thousands apon thousands of acres open to my desires.  I could ride for days and never see another human.   I remember my dad waking us kids up in the 4am's of the morning just to climb out on the porch roof to listen to the elk bugle.  Or that winter the snow was so deep (17 feet) that BLM brought alfalfa cubes around to all us ranchers to feed the deer that year. If we hadn't, the winter kill would be unbelievable. Or the sound of magpies.  We have two little magpies that live here with us, and my family and I are deadly protective of them.  Why they chose our land way the heck up here to live is beyound us.  Oh, the call of a red winged black bird drifting in off the wind.  Indian paintbrush blooming. Or, after a really good rain, in a couple hours the buttercups would bloom.  The spring mud season.  We lived in breakup boots.  The color the oakbrush would turn in the fall.  The seige of out of state hunters that would wash over the land during hunting season.  The bumper stickers that said "If it's called tourist season, why can't we shoot them?" The quite knowledge we all had that yes, we were just a little bit tougher than everybody else.  All the women who wore their wrinkles with pride because that is what happens when you live in the wind your whole life.  The crick fishin.  The county fair.  The sunsets that could make your heart seize up.  I remember going on roundups with our neighbors since there was still open range.  The shale rock and the horny toads.  The fact that I never once left our house without my folks telling me to "watch out for rattlesnakes".  The canyon cliffs and hunting arrowheads. 
There are so many people there now, we had to escape.  We left it all and I"m doubtful any of it still exists. I'm sure the SUVers, yuppies, townies have swept over that state of mind like so many hoards of locusts, out to wipe away any trace of the lifestyle that made this country so strong.  Last I heard, they were to trying to make it againest the law to have a yard sale.  Said it was trashy. Shame on them.  Trashy is tracthomes. Trashy is sectioning off ranches and farmlands to build sub divisions.  Trashy is putting golf courses where grazing land should have and used to have been. I wonder if those people would even know the  call of a red winged blackbird? Or the difference between a bull bat and a mourning dove?

I will always be homesick for the colorado that may still only exist in my memories.

My daughter had a 4-H meeting tonight.  Last night we went to a Cowboy Mounted Shoot Association meeting.  It's only January and I've got the riding itch soooo bad.  Every day I look out the window at my 3 horses and watch them like they live in a big fish bowl.  It's too hard to go riding at our winter tempuratures. Too hard on me and on them, not to mention murder on the tack.  I know that spring will be here in about 5 months. By the middle of May, it'll be good enough to ride daily.  We'll even start Mounted Shoot practises by then.  My mind says, relax, it's not so far way.  My heart is still a little girl at christmas time.  It seems like it will NEVER come.  I think this rates pretty dang high on the frustration scale.  I want to be out there! The furry guys act as ansy as I feel somedays.
I hate Alaska. I love Alaska.