On Not Knowing Where To Start

I've been home a few days now, working on getting things in order a little, doing some minor edits to the story I workshopped with the writing group, catching up on laundry, latte drinking and trying to see all my lovely friends here in Seattle. As sad as I was to leave the ranch, I have to say, I am feeling the love now that I'm back in Seattle. Seattle seems to have almost as much love for me as I have for it.

And that's all good, but I have this funny feeling right now, like I'm behind on my homework. I have all these ranch photos, and I had this excellent couple of weeks, both on the road with Katherine, and then at the ranch with the writing group, and I have done so very little blogging, even though all of the things that I have experienced and enjoyed are exactly the kinds of things I love to write about here.

Pam works her magic

I keep putting it off because I have this feeling of not being able to do justice to all the great thing, like how the road trip to Creede just flew with Katherine in the car, and how ridiculously hilarious Tami was as a roommate, how good Pam's food was, as always, and how thoroughly she outdid herself with this year's entertainment - a private living room concert with Bucky Baxter and his young buck, Rayland, plus the readings by Greg Glazner and Summer Wood (I am not making these names up, click the links to see for yourself!), how great it was to sit in the hot springs in Pagosa, and how very satisfied I felt sitting under the night sky and eating buffalo burgers and stuffed green chiles at Kips again. . Colorado was spectacularly beautiful, as always.

Lucky Bucky - dinner with ten of the least bitter women you've ever met

And that's not even saying anything about the real purpose of the trip - all the great stories we worked on and all the thoughtful comments and help I received from the women in my writing group. I don't have words for how inspiring that was.

Best bloody mary ever, courtesy of Kip's

Which is why I'm going to stop here. I'm a little out of words right now, but I just needed to give you something, a few snapshots, a couple things to picture, to break this bloggers block I've got. There are too many good things coming up to stay away from here too long.

Dex Decker and the blue truck, moving a winter's worth of hay

Shift Change

We had another day of beautiful bad weather here. You can barely see it in this photo, but there's actually a rainbow to the left of the barn. Today was the first day we got rained on during our walk, but it kept the dogs close to me, and since I leave the day after tomorrow, that was an especially nice thing.

The wild irises are past their prime and during the day you can hear the cattle moving in on the land next door. There's a new foursome of horses on the other side of the fence and tomorrow Pam will come back and reclaim the ranch.

It's been a great two weeks for me. I read three novels (maybe I'll have a word or two on the last one, My Antonia by Willa Cather, for you later), lots of short stories and poems, and the most recent round of manuscripts from my writing group. I worked a little on my own story, and maybe in a few weeks it will be ready for a reader or two. Hard to say. What I did finish for sure was some knitting. Three hats, two pairs of socks and that silk scarf.

The best part of my time alone here was definitely seeing the dogs. I'm not quite ready to write about that, though. We have at least one more walk to go, plus a reunion with Fenton when he returns tomorrow, and no doubt, a few more treats, pets, and photos.

What We're Doing the Rest of the Time

Well, it isn't all fun and rodent mortuary here on the ranch. Sometimes we get down to serious stuff, like novel reading, and knitting. (and just the teeniest bit or writing) Here are the latest FOs (Finished Objects, for those of you not up on the knit blogger lingo, Hey! don't say I never taught you anything). Falling Man and a silk lace scarf.

I promised more book stuff for the blog, so I felt like I had really accomplished something when I finished Falling Man a few days ago. Unfortunately, since then I've been struggling with what to say about it. I had never read Don DeLillo before, and had some vague impression of him as a popular man's man kind of writer, though I couldn't really say why. His new novel takes place in the aftermath of 9/11, and I didn't exactly want to read a 9/11 book either.

Still, it didn't take long for me to get into it once I picked it up. My favorite books tend to be somehow deeply internal, where you see or hear a character in solitude. (You can see why I'm a Virginia Woolf fan, and why I am writing a novel where nothing much happens.) Anyway, Falling Man had that quality, a feeling of characters dissolved in deep solitude, though it was also filled with compelling connections between the characters, most of whom are part of a family living in New York City.

My Virginia Woolf fascination is also a symptom of my desire for every novel to be a meditation on time in some way. Falling Man satisfies that by being an illustration of people moving through time in that strange way you do after a traumatic event. There was nothing histrionic or sentimental about the book, though, and that was what I feared when I thought "Hmm... not sure I want to read a 9/11 book." In fact, Falling Man felt very restrained to me - there's a great section, talking about a game a kid is playing... wait, why don't I let you just read it:

The kid was trying to speak in monosyllables only, for extended stretches. This was something his class was doing, a serious game designed to teach the children something about the structure of words and the discipline required to frame clear thoughts.

Oh, and then there's a section just a little farther along that you have to read - it illustrates some of the rest of what I like...

It was Keith as well who was going slow, easing inward. He used to want to fly out of self-awareness, day and night, a body in raw motion. Now he finds himself drifting into spells of reflection, thinking not in clear units, hard and linked, but only absorbing what comes, drawing things out of time and memory and into some dim space that bears his collected experience. Or he stands and looks. He stands at the window and sees what's happening in the street. Something is always happening, even on the quietest days and deep into the night, if you stand a while and look.

Of course the word game played by the kid, Justin, makes you very conscious of the choices DeLillo is making with his words, and I was left admiring how he was able to capture the kinds of thoughts that you barely realize you are having with only the simplest language.

The part of the book that I'm left wondering about now that a few days have passed are the sections where we get the close third person for one of the terrorists, but we can talk about that after you've read it, right? Let me know when you're ready!

Ranch Morning

Usually, the mornings around here go something like this - I wake up, get my stovetop espresso maker going, a little milk in a pan heating, and then wander outside with a bowl of puppy food. He gets pretty excited to see me in the morning, and spends just as much time chewing on me as he does with his nose in the bowl. The result is that my pajamas are always covered with kibble crumbs. Then I go back inside and have my hot beverage (that could have been one of my seven things - no matter how warm it is, I still like hot beverages) and maybe do a little tidying or read for a while or do some computery things. Sometimes even a little writing. A little.

That's pretty much how this morning went, but the funny part was that I kept hearing this "squeak squeak squeak!" outside, and seeing a little grey head bouncing back and forth between windows. Lovable Irresistable Adorable Me, aka Liam, has a little toy corral under the tree out there, and this morning he was running back and forth with different squeaky toys.

And that's the morning report. I promise some non-puppy related photos later.

"You couldn't possibly be tired of photos of me, though, right?"

Wolfhounds Boycott Walks!

I only peed in your car a little! Just a wee bit!

So, Fenton left with Pam yesterday, off to luxurious digs in Aspen, where he is no doubt up to his floppy ears in chicken tenders and famous rock star admirers. Did I mention that he got a pedicure before his trip? Oh yes, it came with the stitches.

Anyway, without the undisputed ringleader of the Houston ranch (hey Katherine, surely you can come up with a better name for us?) wolfhounds, you would think that things would be settling down around here. Not so much. Today was the day the puppy needed to go to the vet for more shots. We took a little walk in the morning, to try and, um, minimize the chances that he would pee in the car, or on the linoleum in the vet's office. He loves to pee on linoleum. The walk was a bit of a joke, it mostly involved the puppy trying to chew on my legs, but it was a walk nonetheless.

Then I went to get the puppy in the car. That didn't interest him, but Rose hopped right in! We did get him in, but whatever magic Pam's car works on this puppy is not present in my car. She claims he goes right to sleep in the car. Nooooo..... He did well at the vet's office, once we carried him in the door. Okay, he did fall off the exam table. But he got the shot! Mission accomplished!

The shocking development of the day was the boycott, though. That's right, I tried to take the dogs on a walk, and they refused. Just sat there, on the porch, looking at me like I was mad. The puppy whined a little, cocked his head. And sat there. I've never seen that happen before.

Don't worry, I won the walk war later. The key was biscuits. How could I forget about the power of biscuits?

Summer Storms

Anyone who read this blog last fall knows how much I love this barn. I never get tired of taking photos of it, and it seems that every evening finds me out in the yard documenting how the light looks as the sun goes down or storms pass over. We've had a storm almost every day I've been here. Lots of wind, and the thunder rolling around this big bowl of land that the ranch sits in. Not a lot of actual rain, but when you go outside you can smell it. Yesterday I took 85 photos of the sunset and the storm. Almost all of them from the same small patch of grass just in front of the house, looking out at the barn and the hills. I hoped to catch some of the lightning that was striking right through the center of the pinkest part of the sky but never managed to. I tried to sort through and post only a few on Flickr, but it was hard because they all looked like gorgeous paintings to me. With Flickr, I tend to want to edit though, I don't want you to have to look at every snapshot I ever took, you know? Stormy sunsets and cute dogs are hard to narrow down though.

Right now, there is thunder and lightning rolling through again. The girl dogs are anxious (Rose was hit by lightning once and survived, amazing beast that she is) but the horses don't seem to be bothered by it and the puppy is completely oblivious. He's napping on the front porch at the moment, no doubt growing as I write this.

One thing I've been thinking about these last few evenings is how much prettier the sunsets are when it's cloudy. A little bad weather can really add to the beauty of things. I doubt you'll be surprised to hear that there is something I really love about that.

My Sinful Saturday

Ooh, it was hot here in the mountains of Colorado today. Next time I think we'll do the walk where we arrive at the stream at the end of the walk, rather than the beginning. Panting wolfhounds are too pitiful.

They weren't pitiful when they were all snuggled up in the shade though. Aren't they cute? They look all innocent, don't they? Ha.

As for me, I kept cool with the amazing chocolate ice cream I made last night. Myself! I made it! It involved separating yolks from whites, melting chocolate (a whole bar of Green & Blacks Organic semi-sweet, how could I go wrong?) and whisking. Did you have any idea that I had all those skills? Me either. Things are pretty exciting at the ranch. It might be ice cream for dinner tonight...

Thanks to Stephanie and this post for the inspiration!

What It Was Like on Friday

Fenton would like to remind you that the puppy is not at all the only photogenic dog in town

We had a very indulgent day at the ranch yesterday. Full of pleasures! When I came out to feed the puppy breakfast this morning, I was surprised that there wasn't a single dog on the porch. Ordinarily, they are all there in the morning. Still, they came as soon as I called, so I didn't think too much of it. Until a few minutes later when I looked out and saw them all digging at a particular spot in the grass in front of the house. That can only mean one thing - something dead. And it was, another elk leg. One of their favorite things. It may sound dreadful to you, but they like it. What they do not like is when I take the bits away from them, but it never fails to amaze me that they don't bite my hand off when I take their prizes from them. I think that's just what I said last time. But really, not even a little growl! Just proof of how sweet they are.

Then it was time for Fenton to get his stitches checked. When I asked Doc Howard if he thought it was barbed wire, he looked at Fenton's leg and pointed to another little scratch, and then said, "See, we can tell if it's barbed wire because of the mark it leaves." Then he paused and said "It'll actually say 'barbed wire' right here..." Still straight-faced, as was the girl helping him. Sigh. I'm not THAT much of a city slicker. When I left he said "But what I want to know is - Are YOU staying out of trouble?!"

But of course, for once, I am.


After Fenton's field trip, we had a nice walk, where everyone played in the stream and Fenton did a lot of happy rolling, celebrating the success of his fancy stainless steel stitches. It threatened to rain on us the whole time but never did.

Further Adventures of Fenton

We all had a nice walk today, without any barbed wire drama, much to my relief. On yesterday's walk, the puppy managed to crawl under the fence and found himself on the wrong side, away from me and the other dogs. The whining was pitiful. Every time I tried to go over and show him how to crawl under (he still fits, even though he is clearly bigger than he was when I got here, as evidenced by the fact that I had to put a bigger collar on him the other day), he just stuck his head through two of the strands of the barbed wire. Not what I had in mind! I even got down in the dirt to try and get him to do the same. Eventually we had to retrace our steps quite a ways to find the place where he came under in the first place.

Today was just wet, since there is a little wetland and a creek (stream? creek? these are the sorts of things I don't know about when it comes to Nature) at the far end of the pasture. The irises there are so pretty and it's fun to watch the puppy splash around, even if the result is that my legs get all muddy too.

Are you wondering when this is going to be about Fenton? Well, he's doing just fine, stitches look good and he's napping right now, as are the other dogs. Oh scratch that, there's the puppy, up and wandering around the yard looking for toys. Anyway, Fenton was not asleep at 5:30 this morning. I woke up to this thumpety-thump-thump that could only be the puppy on the porch, and Fenton, who was inside, pacing in front of the windows like a big cat in the zoo. I let Fenton out and went on the front porch to see what all the fuss was. It was freezing! The dogs were all alert, like there was something in the yard, and then all of a sudden, they were all together, after the same thing at the corner of the house. They had it basically treed in one of the eaves. I couldn't really see what it was, but I knew it had to be a rodent. More rodents!! I guess Barb was right that I was destined to experience them at the ranch, in spite of the wild barn cats who live here.

I have evidence! Again!

Of course, after all this excitement, I made Fenton the Mighty Hunter go back inside. The last thing I want is to have to deal with the puppy eating a mangey rodent, or with a mangey rodent body. Yech. Turned out to be what I think is a baby squirrel. The sad thing is, they scared the poor thing so severely that it's STILL there. I thought for sure it would escape when we went on our walk, but no. I don't think the melee that is feeding time here is going to help anything. Sigh.

Even a Bad Day at the Ranch is a Good Day

Liam, maybe?

The longest drive I've ever had to make was the drive to Doc Howard's office the day Rose almost died. The second longest was the drive back to the ranch without her. Yesterday I made that round-trip drive again, with Fenton this time. It wasn't quite as long, since we knew he wasn't in mortal danger, but I still hated pulling up and having the girls and puppy sniff around for their brother, who I had to leave behind for stitches. He somehow managed to rip his front legs open, maybe because every time he creeps under the barbed wire, as he has been doing no doubt for years, his little brother now jumps on his head. Oh, puppy.

At Doc Howard's, they stitched him up with stainless steel, 3 stitches in one leg, 5 in the other. When they were taking him back, he was so nervous. It almost made me cry when he leaned his head into my leg to hide. He was back to his old self when I came to get him though, almost ripping my arm out of the socket to go after a cat who was roaming free in the waiting room. They are used to Fenton there, so the girl working the desk just said "Oh Fenton, you know Tigger doesn't like you!" while the cat hissed and I threw all of my body weight (roughly equal to Fenton's) into trying to get him off the cat.

Today we are a little out of sorts here at the ranch. I'm nursing a migraine and earlier Fenton threw up a bunch of grass. Immediately after, he trotted off into the pasture to chase something. Bluebirds, I think. He'll probably live, don't you think? Now everyone is sleeping on the porch, which I feel a little sorry about, since what they should really be doing is going for a nice long walk. That's going to have to wait until a little later in the day though, after the second Immitrex kicks in.

Even with all this, it's so nice here. Hope it's nice where you are too.

A Little More Book Stuff, As Promised

Sign at Olde and New England Books in Newfane, Vermont

The weather has been odd since I arrived here at the ranch. Hot the first day, in the 80s, I think. Then after Pam left yesterday, the afternoon went dark and windy, still warm but you could feel the rain and electricity moving in. Then came the thunder and all the dogs wanted in the house and some girls in a Subaru came by to use the phone because they were worried about a group of campers who they thought might have been caught in the bad hail storm they experienced on the hills behind the house.

All day I felt like the weather. Changeable, moody. Unsettled. I wondered how I felt those first days on the ranch in October, what did I decide to do right away? I knew I could go back to the blog and look it up but didn't. Instead I just puttered around, made myself coffee with the little stovetop maker, unpacked a bit, still thinking about how short this trip will be. Just two weeks this time. I wish it was longer.

I thought about writing, of course, but didn't want to. I thought about a conversation Pam and I had the night before, at dinner, and how she said she often gets stuck for about a year when she's a hundred-something pages into a book, as I am. I realized that the phrase "put it aside" is an okay one in my mind. I can handle putting it aside for a while. It didn't hurt that Pam looked at me and said "It wouldn't be a bad idea. Something needs to happen, and you don't know what it is yet," and smiled.

So instead of writing, I settled in with the new Michael Ondaatje novel, Divisadero, and read half of it while Fenton, depressed at Pam's departure, slept on his dog bed near me and twitched and shivered with dreams. I love Ondaatje's writing. I love the way he immerses you in a world that he has obviously spent some time researching, like forensic anthropology in Anil's Ghost, or gambling in this new one. His books never focus on just one of those things though, usually there are one or things that I think of as technical for each othe characters, whether it's a drug habit described in detail, or a profession, or a kind of music, or a location. Each of the characters in this book have a certain closed-off quality, so that reading about them has this satisfyingly secretive feel to it. I find myself wanting them to interact with each other, wanting the three main characters, who start the novel together and then move away from each other, to come together and collide again.

After reading most of the afternoon, I fed the dogs and made some pasta for dinner and a weird rhubarb sorbet for dessert. I stayed up late, as I often do here, knitting and watching the Fabulous Baker Boys and organizing things on my computer. Finally I went to bed and read for a while before falling asleep.

Don't you love the saying on the little postcard in the photo? I woke up this morning and read again, fell asleep again for a while before finally getting up for the walk with the beasts.

And now it's sunny again, so I better get outside and play.

All the Way Here

Aaaah. I got to the ranch a few hours ago. I can't tell you how happy I felt during the last little bit of the drive. Colorado is green and warm and smells wonderful. There are just enough clouds in the sky to remind you how blue it is, and at the ranch the temperature is perfect for sitting outside in a summer dress. You didn't think I was going to leave all those dresses at home did you?

When I first got here, I wasn't quite sure what to do with myself. Pam is off on a hike, so I haven't met the new puppy or seen Fenton yet. It's just me and the girls, plus Roany and Deseo and the bluebirds. So quiet. Knit? Read? Write? Play with the pinhole camera? I chose read, and took a copy of the Hayden's Ferry Review that I haven't been able to find anywhere out to the picnic table. Maryellen had other things in mind. She followed me out to the table and rubbed her head on me until I acquiesced and focused all my attention on petting her. Which I was all too happy to do.

Hi Ho Durango!

Well, it's the end of the first long day of my road trip! I made it all the way to.... Durango! Yes, Durango. Those of you who have been following my Colorado adventures might now think to yourselves "but isn't Durango, like, 3 hours away from the ranch?" Yes, that's right I drove a whopping three hours today.

After staying up until four in the morning "packing" (a.k.a. looking at photos from Pam's and Gary's Tasmania trip), I was still not packed last night. So I got up in the morning and kept "packing" (a.k.a. admiring how handsome Fenton looked in his new dog bed that is like the La-Z Boy of dog beds) until about 12:30. Then Pam and I looked at the clock and she said "You know, you might consider just spending the night in Durango tonight..." Yeah. Then she made it even more appealing by reminding me that staying in Durango would mean sushi for dinner, and the deal was sealed when we called the hotel she recommended in Durango, the Rochester, and the nice woman on the phone (who asked me "Do you know us?" and when I said "No", said "Oh, you just sounded so friendly I thought you must know us.") told me that they had the "Maverick Queen" room available for me. Perfect.

And guess who the Maverick Queen turned out to be? Barbara Stanwyck, star of the Lady Eve and all around Fast-Talking, Wise-Cracking Dame. I love her, and there she is in all her glory on the poster outside my door. All the rooms in this hotel are named after movies filmed in or around Durango, which sort-of makes it the Wild West movie version of the Sylvia Beach Hotel. The music playing in the lobby when I walked in featured a whistling cowboy. I love whistling cowboys songs!

Clearly this road trip is starting out on a good note. The drive over Wolf Creek Pass was gorgeous, check out the view from the top:

But as gorgeous as that view was, the sushi dinner at East by Southwest might have been even more gorgeous. I realize it seems unlikely that Durango, Colorado would be the home of one of the best sushi restaurants I've ever enjoyed a meal at, but it is.

On the far left is a plate of Kumamoto oyster shells. The oysters, which were prepared with ponzu sauce and wasabi tobiko, were devoured seconds after arriving at the table. And that was just the beginning. Perhaps you are looking at this photo and thinking, damn, that's a lot of sushi for just one person. Well, the best part of this dinner was that Pam and Gary drove over from the ranch to share it with me. I'm going to miss those two. And I'm never going to think twice about driving to Portland again!

One Last Day

This is it. I just went out to feed the horses (they get hay now that snow is covering the ground) and the sun is starting to set. It's been really hard to pack today. Not that packing is so complicated, it's convincing myself to pack that's difficult. I think I can safely say that these have been two of the best months of my life. It's a good thing I miss you Seattleites so much, otherwise... oh, and the lattes, let's not underestimate the seductive power of a latte. Next Monday morning, I'll be at Fiorre, on my way to work, and everything will be back to normal. Well, everything except me, that is. I don't think I'm going to be normal after this. I think something else entirely is going on. We'll just see what it turns out to be.

Ranch Report - day 63

Today was an eventful day at the ranch. Tomorrow is my last day here, but today was my last day with Pam and Gary, since they drive to Denver and back tomorrow for the Broncos game. This tells you something about Pam and Gary - a five-hour drive to Denver to watch a football game in fifteen-degree weather, and a five-hour drive back that will get them home at 2 or 3AM, but it also tells you something about what it's like to live in Colorado. I've been surprised at some of the things I've been willing to do, like the Durango drives, almost 3 hours for a cup of coffee, handling elk legs, or driving myself, Pam and Gary into town today in the snow. Okay, once we got out of the driveway and onto the road it was mostly plowed and clear, but still, it was a drive I would never have done in Seattle. Our bravery was rewarded when a herd of 13 elk crossed the road right in front of the car just after our driveway. That was the point in the drive where I realized I had forgotten my camera. Damn!

R.I.P Journeys

Our drive into town was a bit more eventful than we would have liked it to be. Our plan was to go to the post office, the bank, the hardware store, and have coffee at Journeys. Instead, we ended up standing there on the street in disbelief, looking at the burnt-out shells of the storefronts where the bank and Journeys used to be. You could see the sky right through the roof. Both places were completely destroyed by fire in the middle of the night last night. It was too early for them to say what caused the fire. Even though I've only been here two months, I felt heartbroken that we lost those coffee pot chandeliers, and the tile counter, and the funny loft with the bowling pin sculpture at the top of the stairs and the egg sandwiches and the lattes about which you are asked "would you like whipped cream?"

I would follow Pam almost anywhere, even when she's wearing death pants

When we got back from that sad trip to town (where at least I got Susan's socks in the mail, and bought my official Creede souvenir sweatshirt at San Juan sports), I made us lattes and then Pam and I set out for a walk in the snow so that neither the dogs nor we would have cabin fever tonight. Amazingly, I wasn't cold even though I sincerely doubt that I have ever in my life taken a walk when it was 16 degrees out before, much less a walk that lasted more than an hour, and came to a close with blowing wind and ice crystals visible on Pam's face.

MaryEllen enjoys the first part of the walk, before it started blowing snow

When Pam said she was going to take the dogs for a walk, I wasn't so sure I wanted to go. I've gotten so used to (dumb about) the cold here that I went to town in just a fleece over a long-sleeve t-shirt, so when I got home I was a little cold. I'm glad I brought out the gigantic marshmallow parka and went for the walk, though, since Pam was right when she said that I would warm up as soon as I got moving. We crossed over to the forest service land and I got to see some views that I hadn't seen before, plus an osprey and bald eagle.

After our walk, Pam took me out for a snow driving lesson, which I'm sure wasn't necessarily meant to be fun, but was. For those of you who might be concerned that I am planning to drive in the snow, let me assure you that I am plotting the least treacherous route possible, so this was really only a precaution.

On our way back home, we drove past a ranch where there were three very shaggy horses who took the occasion of our driving by to run and cavort and whinny as though we were bringing them hay. You can also tell from this photo what the weather had changed to towards the end of our walk.

Now we're tucked into the warm ranch house again, with a fire in the wood stove and mojitos coming up for my three-person farewell party. Pam is blasting old U2 and Gary is cutting up garlic for the buffalo steaks. I guess you know what I'm doing. Tomorrow this scene will change, and I'll be packing up all my gear and getting ready to hit the road Monday morning. Sigh.

Last Thursday

Look! See my feet? No? That's right, because they are buried in snow! The sun came out today, so all six of us tromped out over the crunching snow and Gary filled the horse's water trough, and Pam threw some hay out for them, and Fenton and Rose and MaryEllen chased each other, but not the horses for a change, and I took pictures of socks on the clothes line. See?

They don't look like the same size, but they are. I love these socks, at the moment I'm really into this self-patterning yarn, so if you are on the sock list and you want socks that look something like this (only different colors), let me know.

Last bit of ranch trivia for the day. Here's Fenton, trying to figure out how to get up on the poet's cabin roof in order to get that elk leg. Yes, that's right, the roof. Gary and I led a wolfhound parade to the cabin so that Gary could throw the elk leg on the roof. If you think about it, putting the elk leg on the roof makes perfect sense. The dogs can't get it, and the birds will pick it clean so that there is no nasty rotting stuff in the garbage room.

Now it's 6:30 Colorado time, but it's much earlier Tasmania time, which is why the Faux Thanksgiving turkey is in its first hour of cooking. We are on Tasmania time here at the ranch.

Oh, AND! While Pam and Gary were stuffing the turkey, I built the fire in the wood stove, and Pam says it's the best fire ever. Remember that first time I tried to build a fire here, way back in the beginning, the first time the power went out? It didn't work so well, until Gary got it going.

See, I've learned a lot here, don't you think?

Ranch Report - Day 59

This was our view today. Snow flurries started last night and are going on and on. It's supposed to snow two feet tonight! The dogs and I have been inside most of the day, which meant that when I went to feed Fenton, he was hopping up and down like mad. Dinner is so much more exciting when you've been bored all day!

Love the photos of Joseph! I can't wait to see him in real life.

Penultimate Saturday

I can really feel my trip winding down here. A couple weeks ago, I actually made myself a calendar, so I could pay attention to what day it is, and fit everything in before I go. I felt like I had to do that because the truth is, I have reached a point in my trip where I go outside less, take less pictures, and have to admit to myself that I have started to take being here for granted. I've gotten used to every day being a day off, which seems to me to be a dangerous frame of mind!

What does it say about me that I think all these things mean that it's time for me to go? Even so, this place will be in the back of my mind, and a part of me will be scheming for ways to get back here and do this again. It's been such a good time for me, and I can't wait to get back, and see how it changes my perspective on my life in Seattle. I remember when we went to Europe when I was a teenager, how it suddenly seemed like everyone was so LOUD in the states (I know, I can be quite loud myself!). I'm hoping for things like that, little differences that sort-of surprise you, and give you that feeling of having stepped up to try and take a stair that isn't there. Tiny differences between what you've unwittingly come to expect, and the way things actually are.

One thing I haven't started taking for granted is the dogs. Before she left, Pam looked at Fenton's handsome mug and said "in two weeks, you are going to be sooo in love with him!" Remember what I said a while back about how I love people? How they are what creates interest in the world for me, even in their most mundane moments? Well, it's that way with these dogs too. I can start to take the hills behind the house or the golden light in the evening for granted, but the dogs really just get more interesting, the same way good people do. I'll admit that when I got here, I didn't think that Rose was the most lovable dog. Not that I ever thought she was a bad dog or anything, but she kind-of seemed like the grumpy old lady (remember the brown dog incident?) so I really didn't think I would end up playing with her, rubbing her ears, looking forward to her poking her head in my car when I get back from town, and laughing at the way she gets so happy and wags her old tail whenever I let her "sneak" into the house. But I think you all know how much I love Rose now. MaryEllen and Fenton were dogs I knew I'd love from the start.

And you have probably noticed how much the dogs have started to dominate this blog (Ali! Come back and post photos from your Seattle trip! Soon!) I suppose for most of you, this is sort-of like that obnoxious phase when a person has a new boyfriend and can't stop talking about him, how every little thing is soo CUTE! and don't you want to hear what he has to say about X, Y, or Z?

See, Pam was right? I am in love. Don't worry, though, this romance was kids at summer camp, no kissing on the lips, no tears, no talk of Commitment. Destined to be a sweet memory, but not destined to dominate this blog forever.

Anyway, it was better than a lot of talk about socks, wasn't it?

Thanksgiving, the Aftermath (don't read this after eating!)

Looks like a pretty sweet dog, doesn't it? Silly, friendly, kind of snuggly. Yup.

Well... there was something fishy going on in the world of the wolfhounds tonight. Usually I feed them around 5 or 6, so when it was 6:15 and none of the dogs were back here, well, I knew something was up. Especially since Fenton came when I called but MaryEllen, who usually sticks close to home, stayed away longer than the other two.

So, it's about 9 now, and I've finished eating my tasty Thanksgiving meal, and am waiting for my pumpkin pie to cool, when I catch MaryEllen on the porch with her very own Thanksgiving feast - a big ole elk leg. The whole leg. Like, all the leg bones, still hanging together. Yechh. Really. I put my gloves on (I love those gloves soo much) and took the leg away and threw it into the garbage room. I'll deal with it tomorrow when I can see. Again, I am amazed that this dog did not bite my hand off when I took this prize away from her.

Please god, do not let it be elk meat that made Rose sick before! Okay, I'm ready for Pam to come home now. :-)

* Morning after update: dogs all still fine, no further evidence of elk remains. Yay!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Here's the meal I'm trying to recreate tonight. It's in the oven now, so cross your fingers for me! The one pictured above is a Pam masterpiece, and I think I pretty much followed her instructions, except that I brined the chicken, since mine wasn't a gorgeous all natural free-range fancy chicken from Whole Foods in Denver.

Later on I'm going to attempt a pumpkin pie, with a very handsome looking handmade pie crust bought from the bakery in Pagosa Springs. You can be totally unimpressed by this pie-baking nonsense because the filling is coming from a can. I know my limits, people.

There are so so many things to be thankful for today. I feel like I've gushed on and on lately about my great friends and family, and what a fantastic couple months this has been for me, so I'll spare you all more of that. It has also been really fun to get little notes and comments from people who like reading this blog, so that's another thing I'm thankful for. You all are too sweet to me, and very encouraging.

Guess what? Last night I got in bed at 10:30 (10:30!!). Not really by choice, it was because the power went out, and well, what are you gonna do? The power went back on at 1 or so, which made me very happy. Nothing like losing power (which, here, also means losing water) to make you appreciate the things that we consider totally basic to our modern lives. I think it was a good reminder for Thanksgiving eve.

Hope you all have a great Thanksgiving!

XOXO