Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Thanksgiving 2011

This last weekend could be dubbed "The Best Thanksgiving Ever," or at least the best in a really long time, but that title's too long. For being the first one without my mom, only my God could turn it into a scrapbook full of wonderful memories.

Kev's brother's family came over and brought their mom with them. My nephew Brian lives in LA, and it was his idea for us to all get together here. He's a brilliant young man! It was his first time here, as well as his sister Jamie's, and Mel's. Doreen and Mom came up in 2009 for my folks' 50th.

Jamie with my Sahib

Brian with Sahib

The boys went on a Thanksgiving Day ride, one of the two things Brian wanted to do during this visit. The other thing was do some shooting, but the next day's ride went into sunset, and it was just too dark.
On Friday's ride, Mel drove the four-wheeler, and Brian and Jamie switched on and off Sahib since she didn't get to go the day before. Here, Brett and Brian are tooling around the fields.

Dinner! We deep-fried two turkeys to make sure we'd have leftovers after 13 people ate. Alan's was absolutely deluxe. He injects his with a buttery garlic marinade--eeYUM!


Mom, Doreen, and Wayneen

The Kids' Table

We all rambled outside after dinner to get some pictures. Three cameras, one tripod. We are a talented lot. This is the one I used for our Christmas cards. The original had Doolie's butt in it, so I digitized it right outta there. Wish I'd cleaned up Jylle's hair before I had 50 cards printed, but I honestly didn't notice it was all fly-away on top until she pointed it out. It's fixed here.

We don't have very many pictures of just the two of us. I'm sure that'll change some if we retire and do some traveling. I'm just glad this one turned out.
"Brydia"
This is one of my very most favorite pictures. I liked it so much that I had it printed, and it's sitting in a lovely frame on my kitchen window sill where it cheers me 50 times a day. He does not get why everyone likes it so much, but WE do. He might not think it's uncharacteristic, but we know better.
All of us

All the Mulligans

We liked this one so much that we had an 8x10 enlargement made for a Western style frame that Kev made last year. We'd been waiting for just the right picture, and this was it.

What a grand weekend. One of the things that impressed me is that for three days, 11 of us were pretty much together all the time, and there was no friction. There were no jabs, offenses, or hurt feelings to my knowledge. It was absolutely great.

There was one time that might have produced some disappointment. It was quite accidental, and again, I'm really sorry, Lydia, that Ryan and I managed to forget one of only two grocery items you needed. We cannot be left to do the job of one normal person. What can I say--we must always be supervised by an adult.

Sweet, sweet days altogether. Thank You, Lord, for your goodness and grace.

Friday, November 18, 2011

Goober

This is Goober. We got him about 15 years ago. But we didn't mean to.

A friend asked if we wanted a kitten. We did, but I wanted a gray tabby. He shook his head and said they didn't have one.

About a month later, he asked again if we wanted a kitten. I said we did, but I wanted a gray tabby. He paused for just a second and holding my gaze said, "It's a gray tabby. It is." I remember thinking That's funny. I thought he said last time they didn't have one.

We found a box on our porch the next night, the promised gray tabby. We opened it in the house, and out jumped a sleek, gray kitty, completely freaked out by the ride, the box, the new humans, and probably the scent of dogs. He shot down the hall, and we chased him all over the place for about 15 minutes before we caught him.

"Caught" isn't exactly accurate. In his panic, he flew down a dark hall, wheeled into a bedroom, and dropped down an uncovered heating vent. We checked it out in the basement, and the duct was slanted, dead ending him in a tube too slick to climb back up unless you're Spiderman. We left him there overnight (it was around midnight). Kev unscrewed the mount the next morning, and we slid him back into the box. He still looked nervous, but nothing like the previous night.

He spent his life being a garage cat instead of the barn cat we wanted, but he was a good mouser--no mice problems on Goober's watch! He never liked being held, but he appreciated some attention. He was stealthy, dependable, and always on duty.

Later last year he started getting really verbal, meowing loudly and constantly. He also began pacing, or at least moving a lot. He would jump onto the garden bench and paw you if you didn't pet him. When he started losing weight, I did some Internet research and figured he probably had feline diabetes.

We came home from church, and Kev found him in the garage... He buried him with the horses, Jake and Gadget, under a lone pine, fitting for a loner who had little fear of the horses. I like this picture. Looks like he's going off now, business to do and all.

See ya later, Schnoobers. And thanks for everything.

Monday, November 14, 2011

wattawoman


Glenice. Even her name is unique. Some friends are the entree, and some are dessert. Glenice is the whole meal.

This is what I mean. I anticipate her company; dig into, consider, and enjoy the things we talk and laugh about; savor the time; digest and remember happily the time we spent together. This is what I do with a good meal--anticipate, enjoy, savor, and remember it all over again later. There is never a time I do not come away from her company unsatisfied.

Like a favorite restaurant, I'm often pleasantly surprised by new entries on the menu. I've known Glenice for about 12 years, and it seems that about every three, I find out something completely new about her. When I met her, she'd just gone on a three-mile run with her son. She hadn't been exercising daily or working up to running, just up and went. She's that naturally athletic. She used to have a job setting bear traps. Yep, she's my bear trapper friend, no confusion over any other friend there! She hand dug a pit for their outhouse. She knows sign language--like, fluently! I can't wait for the next discovery. It's due in two years.

She wields a drill better than she does a tube of lipstick, and her projects are usually accomplished with both speed and love. When we made decorative birdhouses for the Ya-Yas for Christmas last fall, I held the pieces of wood while she operated the nail gun. *Ka-chew!Ka-chew!Ka-chew!* The trigger went off like a machine gun while the blasts of air pelted me in the face. I must have flinched 50 times that day. Turns out she had to be a little less trigger happy if we wanted enough nails to finish all the birdhouses. I kept the one with the 105+ staples as a remembrance of all the laughing we did...

She is so kind, loving, and fun, and her gazillion friends love her. I'm just blessed to be one of them.