Fun In The Sun

Doesn't this spot look so mysterious? It looks like it should come right out of the National Geographic Magazine! So close to the truth, but yet so far....

The boys and I decided we needed to let our hair down. (Funny, as they don't have any hair because I make them shave it off at the beginning of every summer...). Anyway, we decided we needed a swimming/ fishing trip to Yellowstone Park; our most favorite place in the whole world for outdoor fun!!

This pic wasn't really taken in 2004. I never change the stupid date on my camera because I change the batteries so much. This pic was really taken in August of 2011 at the swimming hole on the Firehole River. This is the last "officially sanctioned" place to swim in Yellowstone Park according to "the law." (Whomever that is!) That didn't stop us later from swimming in the Lamar River down in the Lamar Valley...so cold...bbbbbrrrrr! But I digress...

I have found the best fun ever along the way is spending time with my sons out exploring God's Country.  I figured we should take advantage of it as he gave it to us to enjoy.  The Crow Indians have a saying.  "You cannot sell the land on which the people walk..."  I am glad that God made/saved these spots just for me...oh, and my sons....

How Tall Are Angels?

A few years ago I went on a trip to New Jersey for some computer geek training.  It was 30 miles from New York City and when you are that close you just gotta go.  Now, I had been there before, but not since the WTC bombing and while I don't like crowded places or lots of people packed into anything like sardines (I am a computer geek ya know and we ARE anti-social....... remind me to tell you about losing my sanity while touring a submarine.... I can almost laugh about it now....); I thought I could overcome and ignore my anxiety for a whole day just to check NYC out. 

So here we are, my non-Christian liberal back-east friends in the fancy Catholic Church somewhere in New York City and what do we run cross?  Yep! This guy!!  There was another angel across the room just like this and they were guarding some dead guy in a sarcophogus.  I walked up to him and just stood staring in awe.  I only was as tall as his knee.  As I reached out to touch him, chills ran down my spine and I shivered.  I turn around and look across at the other angel on the other side of the room and as I do, I am almost afraid to turn my back on this one.  He looks so serious and life-like....except for the bronze part of course....If I would ever meet this guy along the way, I would for sure be making some tracks outta there.  He was scarey just standing there looking at him.

I finally said, "Guys, lookit this!  You gotta take a picture of me with this angel."  "How do you know its an angel?"  Kim says?  "Duh! Just look at him!" I flippantly answer back.   While my friends stand there and discuss and critique the various aspects of how good looking and muscular he is, I am in awe wondering if this is really what they are like.  Angels I mean.  For the first time, I have a new found respect for them.  I don't look at them like those cute innocent defenseless cherub type things you see portrayed all over today.  The Bible says they are tall, majestic, fearsome creatures.  They do God's bidding and provide mankind protection against all kinds of stuff we really don't want to know about. 

I remember as I stood there looking up at that angel, I have had only one thought about him since....I am sure glad they are on our side......

What Is A Dare Worth?

     So what is a dare really worth?  Well, I guess that would depend on what kind of "dare" it was.  This was a dare that would cost me my life...one way or the other.  I didn't understand the ramifications then, but I am just starting to now.  Do I regret the dare?  No way!  The cost of my life is a small price to pay for what I will gain.

     A decade or so ago, we moved in next to these radical Christians.  They were pretty hard core I thought and took that whole Christian thing pretty seriously!  Yeah, I was a "Christian" because that was the "popular" label to wear, but secretly it was a little lower on my priority list than the "holy-rollers" next door.  "Sue" was a nice lady...my kind of gal.  Not so prissy and primpy, would tell you exactly what she thought, and a little bit tom-boyish and not into anything seriously fem....

     One day she stopped over and invited me to go to "church camp" to work in the kitchen for a whole week!  Now I had been to those when I was little and had no interest in reliving the event.  But she kept bugging me!  Finally I just said no, NO WAY...NOT INTERESTED!!  As I turned to walk back across to my own yard, she whispered to me, "I dare ya..."  I stopped dead in my tracks.  I turned back around.  "What did you say," I said.  She replied matter-of-factly, "You heard me."

     From that day forward the challenge was on.  We went to church camp and worked in the kitchen.  At first I hated it, but soon it turned into a lot of fun.  One hot 104 degree afternoon Sue and I are cooking beans for 500 kids on the stove.  She turns to me and says, "These are a lot of goddam beans!"  "What?" was my reply somewhat flabbergasted.  "You heard me!," she said.  "These are a lot of goddam beans!"  We laughed as we finished cooking those goddam beans and got them out on plates to 500 kids.  From that point on we were great friends.

     Fast forward 5 years, Sue calls me one day on the phone.  "Hey, you wanna go to a bible study?  It's really good and you'll learn lots!"  Blah, blah, blah.  I let her yammer on and told her I was just too busy.  Without even hesitating she said, "I dare ya!"  Now at this point I am recognizing a pattern.  She has done this before....more than once!  How am I going to get outta this one?  There's no way!  I can't pass up a dare like this!  So I say, "I'll try it."

Its now 5 years later and I am still in the same bible study.  Bible Study Fellowship(BSF); and so is Sue!.  She is a teaching leader for BSF and along the way she has taught me so much about what God has in store for me....really for all of us if we would take him seriously and give him some of our time.  I think God brought Sue into my life to save me from myself.  She taught me to take God seriously, but not myself.  To be an example and show them what kind of life Jesus really lived.  He wasn't judgemental or critical or condescending.  He spoke the truth plainly for people to hear; and live the truth plainly for others to see. 

      I used to think all Christians were "fakes."  "Do as I say, not as I do."  But, I watched Sue from the shadows.  She wasn't a fake, and she wasn't perfect....hence the comment about the beans!  But she taught me so much about what it meant to be like Jesus.  For that I will forever be grateful!  So where are you when it comes to God?  It is hard for most of us to know.  It all boils down to one simple question.  So, I DARE YOU.......Ask yourself, where are you gonna spend eternity? 

     

    

Hair

Hair.  Such a minor thing in the big circle of life.  But is it really?  I am not your typical woman, I personally can take it or leave it.  It covers up nicely with a hat most days....I occasionally pay attention to it; like when I get ready for church or sometimes work.  I makes me mad when I am riding my motorcycle and it tangles in my earrings...aarrgh!  Otherwise, shave it off.  It is in the way!!  But everyone notices your hair.  You wash it, wet it, dry it, gel it, mousse it, primp it, color it, curl it and glue it!  Besides your face it’s the first thing people see when they look at you...and if it isn't jjjjuuuuuusssstttt right, it ruins your whole day!

Imagine my surprise when my sons came home with colored gel and wanted to wear it to school!  “Okay, okay, you can wear it to school.” I say.  Hoping that it is a phase that will quickly wear out.  Nope, going on a week now, we’ve had red hair, blue hair and green hair.  It wasn’t just enough to color their hair, lets make it into a mohawk and add some bling to it too!  You know, somehow it just doesn’t seem right when your 7 year old runs up to you in the morning and says, “Mom, how do I look?”  Red hair, mohawk and some silver chain he found that weighs about 2 pounds around his neck.

While working on recovering from the shock of the whole thing;.  I said,  "You look pretty good!  Why do you wanna wear your hair like that?"  "Because it's cool mom!"  OK, cool meant something WAY different when I was little......hmmmmm...

Let Me Go Easy...

I remember this day....my mother was so happy. Us kids were so miserable. We had to wear stupid wedding dress clothes (that my mom had made us by hand), and fix our hair.

My parents got married at Wayfarer's Chapel. An outdoor chapel on the way to Yellowstone Park. It was so beautiful there. The smell of the pines after the summer rain, and the sound of the water traveling round the bend.

I found that dress that she made me the other day. I held it to my face and sat down and cried. I hated that dress....just hated it! Now I wouldn't trade it for anything because she had made it just for me. A small piece of her hard work; something tangible that I could touch that was from her....

I think I will go there this year on our annual trip to Yellowstone Park and show the boys. I still miss her so much.....

Come pleasure me again. I'm so tired of digging in.
I've done my share, I don't need to win, just let me go easy.
For six days my body fights. At this point it don't seem right.
Just to do it out of spite and keep hanging on.

Go on let me go easy.
Won't you let me go easy, you let me go right now.

I see the numbers dwindling, of my enemies and my friends.
And still I know it never ends, so I'm passing you this torch.
Fight the greed and the federals. Fight the need and the toxic spills.
Drink from that wishing well, but may it never quench your thirst.

Let me go easy.
Go on let me go easy. Won't you let me go easy,you let me go right now.
Let me go easy.
Go on let me go easy. Won't you let me go easy,you let me go right now.

So when you get to Ladenville, 'fore the tears the fare thee wells, for a moment stand real still and you'll feel me moving on.
You go ahead with your plans, you won't be seeing me again, but you'll feel me in the hand, the hand that holds the plough.

Let me go easy.
Go on let me go easy. Won't you let me go easy,you let me go right now.
Let me go easy.
Go on let me go easy. Won't you let me go easy,you let me go right now.

The last pic of my mom....

It has been 75 days since my mom has left her body at Rockvale in a pretty metal box and her soul went to heaven to be with Jesus. I miss her so....this is the last known pic of my mom. It was taken around Thanksgiving 2009 when she helped move Dez to Helena. She is trying so hard not to cry in this pic...that was such a tough time for Dez and us all....I just still am really not so sure that God needed her more than we did.....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eZeveYm7_rs

I want a mom that will last forever
I want a mom to make it all better
I want a mom that will last forever
I want a mom who will love me whatever

I want a mom that'll take my hand
And make me feel like a holiday
A mom to tuck me in that night
and chase the monsters away
I want a mom that'll read me stories
And sing a lullybye
And if I have a bad dream to hold me when I cry

Oh,
I want a mom that will last forever
I want a mom to make it all better
I want a mom that will last forever
I want a mom that will love me whatever, forever

When she says to me, she will always be there
To watch and protect me I don't have to be scared
Oh, and when she says to me I will always love you
I won't need to worry 'cause I know that it's true

I want a mom when I get lonely
Who will take the time to play
A mom who can be a friend and a rainbow when it's gray
I want a mom to read me stories
And sing a lullaby
And if I have a bad dream, to hold me when I cry

Oh,
I want a mom that will last forever
I want a mom to make it all better
I want a mom that will last forever
I want a mom that will love me whatever, forever
I want a mom that will last forever
I want a mom to make it all better
I want a mom that will last forever
I want a mom that will love me whatever, forever
I want a mom
I want a mom
I want a mom that'll last forever
I want a mom that'll last forever
I want a mom
I want a mom
I want a mom that'll last forever
I want a mom
I want a mom that'll last forever
I want a mom that'll last forever
I want a mom...

Best Friends...the Glue of Life....

So recently I lost my mother. She was such a pain in my fanny most of the time. Harping on my about my character, doing the right thing, taking care of business....you know what kinda mom I am talking about!! But she was also such a good friend....I miss her so.....But I digress....

Since she has died, my focus on people instead of things in life has become monumental. Especially my friends....

Anchors in Life....

Last weekend, my husband and sons attended the wrestling meet in Townsend. Unfortunately, I had to be gone, but I got this pic a little while later from one of them. And it occurred to me that little boys; while being such strange, peculiar creatures are really like weeds. Wait...wait....go with me here....and see if you don't get my meaning....
1. You never have to water them and they grow so fast
2. They show up in the most unlikely spots and when you are least expecting them
3. Their ability to be annoying knows no bounds
I bet I could go on and on....I have found though...that the blessings they bring far outweigh the weed factor. They have taught me the meaning of joy in the simple things of life: lighting firecrackers and throwing them at their dad; scaring Ecko with grasshoppers in the Land cruiser on the way to Cracker Barrel(almost had a wreck on this one); peeling the skin off of firebugs and sticking it on your teeth and then smiling at each other in the dark (I actually taught them this one...gross huh?); making bows and arrows with dull knives and string; making all manners of weapons out of just about anything; hunting for gold and buried treasure; making maps to buried treasure (that they buried); riding bikes; climbing trees; swimming in dirty water; motorcycle riding (one of my favorites); and general overall dangerous stuff that all little boys try.

I spend lots of time giving them the fingerwag and preaching at them. Now that they are a little older, they have suddenly learned the meaning of reverse psychology. I harp on them all the time: pick up after yourself, put your shoes and coat away, is your bed made, stop picking on your brother, don't talk to me like that I am your mother, you guys get my drift. You can best sum this whole discussion up by listening to the mother's version of the William Tell Overture. Here is the link...it is worth the listen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BcfeVZkS-2g

So the other day, the oldest says to me, "Mom, you didn't hang up your towel in the bathroom after you were done." Busted! "Mom! We aren't allowed to say that word, why are you?" Busted! "Mom, aren't you going faster than the speed limit? The speed limit here is 35, not 45." Busted again! I think the Good Lord put my children here on earth to keep me honest. I know I work a lot harder at it than I would've ever otherwise.

I have come to the conclusion that they are little blessings in disguise.

So She Is Really Gone?......Really?

I got the proof today for my mother's headstone. I can hardly believe that we are picking out headstones. To go and do it was morbid and surreal. Kind of like you were going to the mall to shop for clothes; or Herberger's to buy flatware. I can just hardly believe it! I am still reeling from the shock of the whole thing.

It was exactly 58 days ago that my mother died. It took her 24 hours to suffocate to death...she was conscious for all of it except the last 4 hours when my brother insisted that they morph her up to put her out of her misery....I still have the nightmares from it all. I also have nightmares that she is alive; that her treatment is going along...not without its struggles, but at least going....and it is so stressful to watch her suffer.... And then I wake up and realize that she is really dead. The sense of loss for those few seconds is so staggering that I can hardly breathe in the darkness. The silence is overwhelming and at that moment I know the true meaning of the word sorrow.

Death is a harsh thing, but even harsher for kids. I have watched my sons suffer through all of this. Not understanding why their favorite gram is gone and in heaven. "Mom, did God need her more than we did?" How do you answer that? I have held them all while they sobbed for their grandmother....just sobbed....it was so hard. Their little hearts broken and hurting but not knowing exactly why. "Who are we guna stay with during the summers? She taught us to swim. Who is guna take us to swim lessons so we will be good at swimming?" they all asked me? I don't quite know how to answer their questions. So many unanswered questions...not just for them, but for me...

I ask God about her almost everyday...stupid stuff. Is she behaving in heaven? Is she still as bossy? Does she worry about us? Did he really give her a mansion? Is it close to mine? Why couldn't we send her to heaven with her cell phone? Just a phone call....ONE phone call to make sure she was okay up there....

It seems like this experience has made us all a little older and rougher around the edges. Even the kids. Life seems a little more raw than it was at Christmas. My one comforting thought that I try and pass on to them is that we will get to see her again. That death is really just a comma in the sentence of our lives....We just can't see past the comma...

Little Girl.....Never Forget Her Face.....

Sure miss you so much today mom! Needed some advice and there was no one to ask. Yeah, I coulda asked her....but it just isn't the same as asking you...I miss you so much.

I will always love you....

Little girl don't you forget her face
Laughing away your tears
When she was the one who felt all the pain

Little girl never forget her eyes
Keep them alive inside
I promise to try -- it's not the same

Keep your head held high -- ride like the wind
Never look behind, life isn't fair
That's what you said, so I try not to care

Little girl don't run away so fast
I think you forgot to kiss -- kiss her goodbye

Will she see me cry when I stumble and fall
Does she hear my voice in the night when I call
Wipe away all your tears, it's gonna be all right

I fought to be so strong, I guess you knew
I was afraid you'd go away, too

Little girl you've got to forget the past
And learn to forgive me
I promise to try -- but it feels like a lie

Don't let memory play games with your mind
She's a faded smile frozen in time
I'm still hanging on -- but I'm doing it wrong

Can't kiss her goodbye -- but I promise to try...

Missin My Mom....

Today is a hard day for me. One of my mom's friends called looking for her today. She had no idea that mom had died. Of course she wanted to know the whole sorted story. So you retell it and relive it all over again in your mind.

My father bought my mom the most expensive casket you could get. My mom loved pink. The whole inside was pink. Her casket was metal with metalic silver painting with pink flecks in the topcoat of the paint and gold endcaps with painted roses adorning the outside. It had a weatherproof seal, so it was waterproof and worm proof...which I pointed out to dad that mom would so appreciate as she didn't like bugs and spiders or dust so much.

This picture is her sitting in the Rockvale Cemetary in her fancy expensive little metal box waiting to go into the ground. (Cuz that's what they put you in.. a little metal or wood box. That's what you end up with if you are one of the lucky ones in this world....) 80 years worth of living and you are left with a whole bunch of junk in a square you call a house. You get a small box and they put you in it in the dirt. It was hard for me to walk away and leave here there, even though I know she is not really there. I don't like the cold and I am scared of the dark (don't tell my children).....and she would be alone there all by herself...and it was so cold that day...it just didn't seem like the right thing to do....it still doesn't...

I miss her so much.....*sigh*

Politicians & Babies

Being a Generation X'er, I have to admit that we haven't seen too many hard times compared to previous generations. Yeah, we have had a couple wars; with very minor casualties because of technology. And we had a few tragedies along the way...the most notable for me was Princess Diana dying and the space shuttle blowing up over Las Vegas. (My mom lived there then and called me that night about the spectacular meteor shower...not knowing she was watching 6 people and billions of $$ worth of government property disintegrate into the atmosphere.)

I listen to my grandmother tell stories about World War I & II. She talks about the Great Depression when she was little and the Cold War and the threat of Nuclear War. She talked about that attitudes people had; like what a man did with his family was his business. How women got a little bit of freedom and birth control and went out to work. And people began saving their money for a rainy day. She started out in the days of no indoor plumbing or electricity, raising your own garden for survival to make it through the winter, and horses really did do the work; to fast cars and a man on the moon.

Years later I listened to my mom talk about the Vietnam War, Watergate, various assassinations of prominent leaders and Woodstock and the whole "make love, not war; if it feels good do it" attitude. How divorce and materialism became fashionable, and everyone could buy a house. The American dream was in full effect. And everyone could almost afford it......and if they couldn't, there was credit.

Fast forward to the Roaring 2000's...or should I say to today. Our country is headed for a big train wreck and it is so scary to watch! I have watched my mother's generation (yes you! the baby boomers!) saddle me and my children and grandchildren's generation with trillions of $$ worth of debt. It is unconscionable to me that the baby boomers could even consider doing this!! No fiscal responsibility exists within the government or even big business today. I am appalled that I watch the socialization of debt, and the privatization of wealth to our upper class citizens. That people could think that it would be OK to spend peoples pensions and social security and give them IOU's that they will never be able to repay instead.

In the meantime, I have been fiscally responsible with MY money even though government and businesses haven't been. Even before the age of 40, I am already taking care of my father (he now lives with us after my mother died), my grandparent's when they call and need help, saving for my children's college funds, putting a little away in savings for emergencies (not much mind you), trying to save for my own retirement (ha ha ha ha...never happen...) and taking care of the general basics in life. I can tell you that we drive at least 10 year old vehicles, have no credit card, student loan, or "toys" debt. We own one home in another town that we rent out and it pays for itself....We essentially have NO debt in this world compared to most and live very very frugally. (My children complain about it all the time! The live like kings and don't even realize it!)

So my question is....if I am held accountable for how I run my money(and I am...just ask the bank and the county attorney) AND I have been fiscally responsible....why doesn't government and big business have to be? If I have to suffer a little and go without because I don't have the money, why doesn't the government and big business have to do the same? Who made the rules different for them? When are we going to hold ourselves accountable for the messes that we have made and work on fixing stuff and cleaning it up? In the interests of our own survival and the survival of our country...this would seem prudent...

Just goes to show ya...when politicians are holding your babies...they are stealing their lollipops....Whats that I hear? *silence abounds*

The Sweetest Sound I Have Ever Heard!

In my ripe old age of 30-something.... there is nothing that can provoke a faster reaction from me than to hear the words, "Mom!" screamed at the top of someones lungs. Most of the time, I jump up immediately and do a level of danger assessment and then triage bumps, bruises, bloody noses, swings or become the general referee or judge in the may lay.

All your life you are told that children are a blessing. Psalms 127:3 says it this way..."Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. .." Now there are times in my life when I would stand up and hotly debate my children being a blessing. But, occasionally God reminds me that while being an adult has its privilege's (that he has so graciously bestowed on me); he reserves the right to change that, or remind us of our shortcomings, when we as adults forget or ignore our responsibilities. Now, I don't know about you, but lots of times he uses my children to remind me...Oh Ouch!

At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.-Matthew 18:1-3

Now they were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them. And when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them. But Jesus called them to him, saying, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.”
(Luke 18:15-17 ESV)

And Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read, “‘Out of the mouth of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise’?” (Matthew 21:15-16 ESV)

Case in point, I hear my sons singing songs off the Christian radio while they play (when they are in the car, that is all we listen to when I drive)...However, I just drove back from the store, by myself, and just stepped out of the car listening to PINK. So what am I singing? Yep! You guessed it....PINK! "Mom, is that a Christian song? It doesn't sound like it..." Oh Ouch!

I tease my sons about something or some situation that I have just made up. When I reveal the truth of the situation, they ask me,"Mommy, wouldn't that technically be a lie?" Oh ouch!

Recently we had an issue with family. To save a long story; lets just say it did not end on the best note. As a result, we haven't visited with them in awhile. The boys came to us, collectively after they had discussed it at length amongst themselves (mind you the oldest is only 11) and said. "Dad you should call them. Someone has to be an adult and take the high road. Besides, doesn't God say that you should forgive someone like a bazillion times in the Bible?" Oh another Ouch! Out of the mouth of babes...

So many times, God used children to further his kingdom and guide his people long after all the adults went astray! Josiah was 8 years old when God made him the king over Israel. He reigned 31 years! Then there was Joash at 7. God put him on the throne of Israel and he ruled the kingdom for 40 years in 852 B.C. God chose Kind David to rule when he was a child. All of these children grew into manhood and furthered God's work in the lives of his people....long before they officially becoming an adult. (Not sure when you really officially become and adult...still trying to figure this one out...) And they lived under the same curse of sin I do...so they couldn't have been perfect...

Fast forward 2000+ years and here I sit. My sons are all around those ages. If God put them in charge of our family or our nation...I would think we could be in big trouble! I don't see the Godliness in them that you see in those children that ruled their nation so long ago. (I question whether this is my fault....most certainly I have contributed negatively some how.) But I also realize that God raised those children up to serve him.....they were a small, minute fraction of the many that he could have chosen. (I have often wondered what their mothers thought.)

This all brings to me the awesome responsibility and the blessing (yep...that's what I said...) that God has given me in my 3 sons. A responsibility that is at times so overwhelming in this life that all I can do is pray and wring my hands. I pray for them during the day, pray with them and over them every night before they go to bed. What do I pray? That God would hide his word in the hearts; that they would become men of God and chase after him all of their lives; that they can resist the temptation to enjoy the things of this world and choose the long hard road instead of the easier one....

I took these pics on the boy's first ski trip this year. Notice the 2 younger ones I didn't trust so much...they are wearing helmets for their own safety and mine. (Thank you Lord for good medical insurance!) We had so much fun together that day and they were such a blessing. As we sat on the chair lifts and the boys chattered excitedly about which "jump" we were going to try next (while I was thinking...yes Dawn..put on your big girl panties and try the jump too...they will expect it...) it occurred to me that God really could not have blessed me more greatly in this life full of troubles than at this exact moment...the gift was priceless to me. If I could've gotten off that chairlift, I would have kneeled in the snow right then. I said, "Lord are you listening? Did you ever think about trying skiing while you were here? I know you were so busy. But it's so much fun. (I ramble when I visit with God. I am so glad he puts up with it...) Seriously Lord, I wanted to thank for for this moment in time that you have given me with my sons. For these few minutes, my life could not be any more perfect or more blessed... My brain is on record right now and I will never ever forget this moment. I owe you Lord..not only my life....but my son's lives...they are yours...thank you for sharing them with me for just a little awhile....I will love you for it always...

My kids snapped me back out of my prayer just in time. "Mom! Put your ski tips up! It's time to get off...hurry!" We got off the chair lift and skied down around the corner for an equipment check and glove adjustment. I smiled.

"Mom, what's so funny?", the middle one says to me.

"Oh nothing, just glad God gave you guys to me."

"You feeling ok? We gotta get going. We are guna try the backwards rodeo this time! Let's go!" For those of you who don't know what a backwards rodeo is...its when coming off of a jump, you turn your back down the hill, flipping 540 and landing fakie or rotating a total of 720 and landing regular. (I know...don't you just wanna say huh/what at the end of all that?)

"OK," I yelled as they were already skiing off. "I am just going straight off the jump and catch some air...you guys do the rodeo thingy and I will watch at the bottom..." And away we all went...me praying that they would make it through the backwards rodeo with no broken bones or serious injuries that would require medical attention more than what I could provide....thank you Lord...for my sons...they are such blessing...their voices yelling and laughing as we went on down the mountain truly were the sweetest sound I have ever heard.....

Close Calls

Not every day, but sometimes the Good Lord reminds me (in a big way) that he is my protection even when I am not paying attention.

As we were coming home a couple of weeks ago on the interstate; the traffic suddenly slowed and an ambulance shot by us with lights and sirens going. (Whenever this happens I always start to pray for whatever situation has just happened that requires an ambulance. Experience has taught me that if an ambulance is involved; most likely the situation has not started out in a positive direction...If its Life Flight...its even worse.) As we drove by this truck, it was clear that the ambulance was for whatever had happened here. You could tell it was slick; the truck was from oncoming traffic and that as it lost control and rolled it came through the ongoing traffic(us!) and came to land very precariously balanced on the gaurd rail like you see here. (Over the edge lies a long, steep hill/cliff and most certainly a short, hard ride into eternity.)

The Bible says in Psalms 57:1..."Have mercy on me, O God, have mercy! I look to you for protection. I will hide beneath the shadow of your wings until the danger passes by." We happened to be late coming home that day. What would have happened if we would have been 15 minutes earlier? That day I was reminded that this could have been any of us. How many times during the day does God give us his protection; without us ever asking for it; and save us from certain death or danger? I'm not just talking about a vehicle accident. I am talking about making decisions when we are presented with a choice; a choice that could lead us down the direction of life or death without you even knowing maybe which path you chose? Maybe its a decision on how we deal with a situation involving a friend or family; or a decision to look or be involved in something not entirely kosher. So many times I have prayed, "Please dear God, if you will just save me from myself...I will make it." For me, I find that my bad decisions are caused by my pride; the root of all sin. Pride is what caused Satan to fall from heaven; for Moses to never enter the promised land; for King David to lose his son; and King Solomon to go crazy. I am reminded almost daily how sometimes my biggest adversary is within myself. If God can just save me from myself and my own destructiveness (which has been built into us from the beginning when sin entered the world), I just might make it in this life.

So how can you survive this life and finish the race how God intended? That is the best question ever and I ask it all the time. The great philosopher Sir Francis Bacon once stated that knowledge is power....(he also stated that science is but an image of the truth, but that is a whole other discussion.) If knowledge is really power, why don't we possess it? Why don't we study it, focus on it, hunger for it, look for it? Because that knowledge has been hidden from us! So how do we get it? Where do we find it? The Bible gives us a clear direction to head...Psalm 119:105, "Thy word is a lamp until my feet and a light unto my path..."

So what kind of close calls have you had lately?

Children Are A Blessing...Stressful/Stress Relieving Blessing....

The good Lord has chosen to bless me with 3 little boys that aren't so little anymore. They started out so small and helpless...like wee little things...like puppies or kittens...so innocent at first. So quickly they grow on you and become your whole life. I think the process starts when they come shootin' outta there (oh the pain!). As soon as they cut the unbilical and lay them on your stomach...something else from them attaches itself to your heart. Forever you become bound to them...

I have found as time has went on, that little boys are such strange, peculiar creatures. This is well documented among the anals of motherly memories that I have compared with other mom's and grandmother's. The stories abound; from my grandfather and uncles...clear down to my brother and fathers (yes I have 2). What does God put in a man (or my precious little boys) that brings forth the element of risk, danger and adventure? Why do all boys(and men) find certain things so interesting and funny?? I can cite numerous examples:

Any bodily noise is funny; the louder it is and if it is in public, and the more people watching...the funnier it is. Then the blame games starts as to who really did it...and why do they always try and point and blame at me as I slink away and shake my head to the people in the mall, or Perkins, or Lowe's and claim or pretend that I don't know them?

Absolutely anything (and I mean anything) can be turned into or used as a weapon. Matches, lighters, gasoline...anything that contributes to or makes a fire or makes it bigger illicits excitement proportionate to the size of the fire or potential fire before your mother takes away the matches and flammable materials. Fireworks, specifically M80's, are fun to throw from the second story window down on to the deck where you parent's and their friends are sitting and relaxing. No matter that you wait to throw the M80 as the fuse gets close to the end and it bounces off your father's shoulder before it hits the deck and explodes at his feet. And as if the snickering from the upstairs window didn't give you away! (And all I can think of is thank you GOD, that they didn't blow off their fingers or put out an eye!)

Slapping and hitting contests are fun. Wrestling is great fun...especially if there is blood involved from noses, teeth, scraped off scabs, fingernails...whatever...blood is cool!...Banging heads together is fun....until later when you have a headache and throw up. I have watched them all wrestle with their father and uncles and make grown men curl up in the fetal position and cry like a baby after they have accidentially applied a sudden blow where it wasn't meant to be applied. I watch from afar (usually the safety of the couch) and wonder where this comes from and ponder it all in my heart. (Usually thinking...they are crazy! How can all that sweating, grunting, groaning, pain and occasional blood be fun?)

Case in point...we have a hot tub. We all LOVE the hot tub. I think God blessed mankind with the gift of the hot tub invention just for me. Anyway, my sons spend every morning before school in the hot tub (and no, I don't let them substitute this for the bath...those they have to do at night). They play in the hot tub and devise all kinds of methodical plans for making the hot tub (which I always considered a relatively SAFE place for them to be) a place for fun, risk, adventure, etc. However, one morning at 7am, I step out on the deck to check on my sons in the hot tub. Hot tub is going...water everywhere...but no little boys. All of a sudden I hear voices. I look to see 3 little boys,(with no clothes mind you), climbing up the ladder at the back of the camper and hear the oldest talking about how this will all work if they can jump far enough out. My fear factor goes into overdrive (Danger Will Robinson Danger!!) as I look around and discover that they have pulled the trampoline inbetween the hot tub and the camper. It dawns on me...THE PLAN....I can see it plain as day...A jump from the top of the camper to the trampoline should launch them out high enough and far enough to land INSIDE the hot tub. Common sense...which no little boys or teenagers, or young adults for that matter possess; does not kick in that between the camper and tramp: 10 feet (hmmm...maybe could make that one): between the tramp and the hot tub....50 to 60 feet (nope...ain't guna happen!) just isn't enough using the laws of physics to propel them into the hot tub!.....My motherly brain screams danger! They will not make it! (Part of me says, "Ingeneious that they put this all together in the first place"...for a split second I am so proud!) Then reality snaps me back! I fly back into the house from the deck and put on my bathrobe and run out the door, across the deck and down to the camper to shut down the whole thing just as the oldest is getting up his nerve to jump in all his glory (if ya know what I mean!).....

"Aw mom, do you haveta ruin all our fun?" says the oldest and wisest of the 3. Dirty looks come flying down from the top of the camper from the other 2.

"Yep," I say, "That is specifically the ONLY reason that God has put me on this earth...to ruin all your fun. Not to feed you, clothe you, keep you out of danger...." Here I pause for the full effect. "Now get down from the camper...and go in and tell your father what you were planning to do...."

"But mom!" says my oldest.

"No buts!" I say. Relief is all I can feel as I have once again been the hero in my own mind and averted disaster and cheated death for the lives of my sons....maybe...at least this time. Good thing I have life insurance on them....and pray the Good Lord's protection around them every night...I go inside and tell my hubby, "Really. Save their college funds for me....for hair color and therapy... I am positive I am going to need it!"

Drinking and Bible Study

Living in Helena you notice all the tree huggers and politicians around here have a fondness for the finer things in life. Well, my exercise nazi friend Barb, being neither a politician (but works for the politicans ...same as me...) nor a tree hugger (but you would think so looking at her....) has introduced me to 2 of the finer things in life; foos ball and really good beer!

Because really good beer, exercising and losing weight don't mix...we have limited ourselves to going out for a beer once a month..and our beer limit is 2. (Yes, it really is 2....I am not lying!!) So what was tonight? Yep! It was our once a month beer night and I messed it up with starting the new Beth Moore Bible Study at church! I got the lecture and the finger wag from Barb on our daily 3pm walk around the capital complex.

"Barb," I explained, "Tonight I have to start my Beth Moore bible study at church with Darlene. She peer pressured me into it!! It just doesn't look so good if I go to the brew pub with you...and then show up at the church and go to the Bible Study smelling like beer." (Now, if you know Darlene, she is the most meek, mild mannered lady you have ever met. I don't think she even knows what peer pressure is....a good all around girl with a good heart that you just don't find too often any more these days...)

So we had to rearrange our once a month brew pub trip around our schedules...dates with the hubby, eating out with the kidlets, sports, doctors appt's and the like....and wouldn't you know it...we had to put our brew pub trip off for a whole 24 hours was it! Thank the Lord for such small every day miracles I say...

So in the end I said to Barb, "Okay, Friday night it is...2 beers, 2 beers only! (Give me a ping Pricilly, one ping only please!), around 7 o'clock, you are on girly! And how about a round of foos ball? The loser buys the 4 beers?"

"You are on!" Barb says to me. Now Barb is the best foos ball player (amateur of course, her husband won't let her go on the professional circuit) you have ever seen! But, if you play with her, you better have hard ears because if you are whippin' her butt, 4 letter words start to fly...not the G-rated ones if you know what I mean! It doesn't help that she exercises so much, runs marathons for fun and is extremely competetive. So foos ball isn't just foos ball. Foos ball is a game involving a fight to the death to crucify that little ball at least 10 times and whip you thoroughly along the way. And no jungle ball here! We don't play no jungle foos ball at the Barb foos ball tourney...it is straight foos ball to the death...no passing go...no collecting $200. Now, while I am picking on Barb a little here, just a little...in her defense...she is just about the most fun you could have with anyone for a couple hours on a weekday night without getting into too much trouble. More than once our little outings have saved me the pain and agony of my head popping off from some kind of stress that I am dealing with in my life....and for that I will be forever thankful. Maybe this weekend when we play foosball, I will let Barb win.....*ssssshhhhh* Don't tell her.....=)

Sure Do Miss You Mom!

Twila-Jean Morgan
Dec 6,1951-Jan 7, 2010

My mom's OBIT. I had to list it here in her honor. If I live my life to be her age(58)...I would consider it an honor to become even half the woman she was...a servant to the Lord and others. We, as a family can't even come close to giving her credit for all the things she did and took care of; the crises she solved; the midnight trips she made to help with sick kids, or emergencies, or bad situations...putting off her own needs, wants, vacations or whatever else she needed to. The objective advice and wisdom she passed along to everyone; especially me. She wasn't perfect, but once her crazy young years were over and she became sane...she was the best mom ever! She loved my children more than she loved me...and took better care of them than she ever did of me...and that was ok in my book because it was such a blessing.

I took this picture of my mom in Las Vegas at Bass Pro Shops sitting in a LOADED Sun Catcher 45 foot houseboat with her sitting at the steering wheel. That day she said, "Let's go dream building!" So we went and looked at the kind of boats we were guna buy someday when we made it big! Little did we know then....we had already made it big! We were already so rich in this life...someday we would even have money...

HELENA — Twila-Jean Morgan passed away Jan. 7, 2010, in Helena, with her family at her side, after a brief, but spirited battle with leukemia. It was a Thursday, clear and cold, much like the day she was born in Douglas, Wyo., 58 years ago on Dec. 6, 1951. After several years on the Sherwin ranch near Douglas, her parents, Thomas and Betty Anderson, moved to Edgar, in 1954, to begin ranching for themselves. She attended Edgar High School, where she was a Wildcat cheerleader and homecoming queen. She graduated in 1970.

In 1970, she married Robert Temple of Bridger, and over the course of their 15 year marriage, they had three children: Dawn, Dustin, and Desiree’.

After divorcing in 1984, she moved her children to Evanston, Wyo., where she met her lifelong love and best friend, Ralph Morgan. They were married on June 14, 1986.

Throughout her life, Twila loved intellectual pursuits, and valued education very highly. She insisted all of her children attend college, and returned to school herself later in life earning both a bachelors degree from Eastern Montana College, and an MBA from the University of Montana. Twila’s love of books was legendary; as she scoured second hand stores everywhere she went looking for new material to read. After earning her degrees, Twila moved to Las Vegas, Nev., where she spent the last several years of her life. She came to love the Southwest, the desert, the heat, and especially the lack of snow. Along the way she and her husband Ralph, developed a love of travel and adventure.

Twila was a devoted friend, a terrific mother and doting grandmother. She was always ready to lend a hand, some good advice, a willing ear, or a shoulder to cry on no matter what was on her own plate. She was never too busy to help either a friend or a stranger. When it came to family, nothing was more important to her. She was immensely proud of her children and grandchildren, and always had pictures or video on her cell phone to show anyone who would look.

Twila is survived by her parents, Tom and Betty Anderson; her husband, Ralph Morgan; her three children, Dawn Harmon (Rich Harmon), Dustin Temple (Katie Temple), and Desiree’ Bishop; seven grandchildren, Zayne Temple, Gage Harmon, Sydney Temple, Chas Harmon, Andrew Bishop, Si Harmon, and Victoria Bishop; her five siblings, Ken Anderson, Jim Anderson, Rod Anderson, Tammy Baker, and Trisha Belless.

For most of her life, Twila was active in church and was secure in her faith in Christ. We know that she has gone on before us, and those who believe in Him will join her eventually. Fair winds and clear skies to you, Twila, you were our mother, grandmother, wife, daughter, sister and friend. Our lives were the better for you in them.

Funeral services will be held 2p.m. Tuesday, Jan. 12, at the Fromberg United Methodist Church. On-line condolences may be shared with Twila’s family at www.remingtonletcherfuneralservices.com

I love you mom...and I miss you so much!

How can I make it 50 more years without you?

Grain Elevators & Tree Houses

Okay- Call me weird and it is a long story, but I bought the Laurel, Montana grain elevator about 5 years ago. At that time, I was the CEO of a wireless internet company. We needed the height from it (115 ft tall) to broadcast internet through the Yellowstone Valley. The first trip up inside the thing was definately a "I need therapy moment..." It was completely full of pigeons and their extended familes. From the bottom, you climbed an 88 foot ladder to the lower headhouse. Then another 10 foot ladder to the upper headhouse. Then another 20 foot ladder to get out on top. The roof is galvanized tin...and slicker than snot on a doornob...not a spot you want to spend much time when it was windy or stormy either. The best place ever for lightening to strike....(Make sure your life insurance is caught up...) It was scarey enough my husband wouldn't go up there with me....What does that tell ya? (By the way, YES, that's me on top working on stuff up there!!)

Anyway, to digress, when we were little and lived on the farm with my gram, we spent our summers building treehouses. (My mom would send us there every summer to get us outta her hair. Did I mention lately I loved my mother...so much....I miss her...) The rules according to gram were, we couldn't use any of grandpa's tools that plugged into an outlet..the tools better end up back in grampa's shop, and we could only use wood we found outside laying around...no good wood out of the shops or barns (dang!). So we skimped and scrounged...gathered wood, nails, tools and carpet(another story)....we would tie it all to our backs with ropes or drag it behind us on sleds and head out and spend all summer building treehouses...multi-story treehouses even. It was great fun.

So, 30 years later enter the grain elevator into my life..and you know what it was to me? A big treehouse! Exactly the same...with more liability insurance though...But there were mutilple levels....it was high(heights don't bother me...thanks to the Harvestor on the farm...a whole nother story...it will make my gram shudder....we will save that story for another time....)there were elements of danger everywhere you turn with hidden trap doors for 13 grain bins, no lights anywhere...completely dark and scarey...a broken man elevator...rickety ladders...small spaces to squeeze through...It is a tinderbox waiting for a match...and no saftey elements in it at all because back when they built the grain elevator (in 1912) OSHA wasn't a thought in anyone's mind....It was great! Every tomboy girl's dream to prove she is as good as a man at almost anything....=)

So, to get to my point, I am sad today....the grain elevator sells. I will miss it...I won't miss the monetary upkeep...$750 a month for liability insurance and utils....not to mention the City of Laurel calling for every little thing they can nail you on....while they let the town go to heck other places...they worry about my little old grain elevator on main street...the city has such bigger problems...like 2 unsloved murders maybe??? Shouldn't they be taking care of those?

Anyway, it was my big tree house...(I tried to get Sue to climb it with me...she dares me to do other stuff on occasion...why'd she chicken out here? Not so sure...still teasing her about it...)...I loved the smell of the grain dust, the 100 foot bins...staring down into the darkness of them with a head lamp and not being able to see the bottom...sooooo eerie...., all the old equipment in the top that was so fascinating...(it has to be worth some money...I just know it.....but can't get it down from there as it weighs a ton!)....the turbines in the top to move the grain up to the top....I could go on and on...not to bore the rest of you poor blokes reading my blog....

So where does this all leave off? I will miss the grain elevator so much. Ecko (the best friend a girl could ever have!), and I climbed that grain elevator so much and spent so much time working in it and on it hanging off the top in our safety harnesses. I will miss the smells, the wild cats running from Jenny(Ecko's dog) as she played in there; the mice occasionally freaking you out by running across your shoe or in front of your feet....(A true test of your faith is if you DON'T cuss in these situations...), the smell of old wood, gas and oil mixed with grain dust....And so this chapter of my life closes.....all my treehouses are gone....I will miss them so....*sigh*

Every kid needs to know how to build treehouses....it should be a requirement to be an American....

Exercising = Hard Work!

Oh man!! Do I have to get back in to exercising!! After my mom died, I just haven't been able to get back into it. If I don't soon, I am gunna blimp out. My brother started me on the whole exercising guilt trip a year ago. So I joined boot camp at the local fitness club. No one told me that they tried to kill you in there!! For the first 6 weeks I had panic attacks when we ran around the track...I swear...right where that track sits in that stadium...God has programmed the air there to be thinner...I am sure of it! Anyone remember burpies from grade school? Yeah...I hated them too...still do...really really bad...Every time I do them...my mother says in my head "What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger....what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger....." I am not so sure that applies to burpies.....

So I go along my exercising ways all last year....then my sister's husband does some funny stuff (details I am not allowed to explain on the net for sure!) and she moves here and files for divorce!! So then she starts the gotta exercise like mad and make that son-of-a-bitch pay!! "Oh, and Dawn, I don't wanna go to the club by myself...come exercise with me. It will be fun!" It sure didn't seem like fun....But Wow! Did that work great for losing weight! We had Boot Camp on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays 6-7am...Tuesday Thursday mornings 5:30-7am were dedicated to Body Pump....Tuesday Thursday nights 6-7pm were dedicated to kick boxing....and lets go walk or run for fun on the weekends....C'mon! Lets go!!

In the meantime, no time for fun in my life with 50+ hours a week for work, exercising, little kids and sports...But I did have time to notice Sara....our boot camp instructor. Tall and skinny with a built in 6-pack. (My brother said she used to be in the marines...that hadta be where that body comes from!!)....I joked with her that I was just guna tatoo a 6-pack on to the front of me! That way I would at least have one....My friend Barb has one...not fair....we'll talk about her later. Anyway, Sara not only runs along side you in boot camp if you aren't doing what she considers good...(I consider it good just not to pass out and keep breathing and moving)...she also considers it essential that we all work out in the dark to whatever is on her IPOD. I have learned lots of interesting songs that I wouldn't ever let my children listen to. I find myself singing them during the day...the best part is when Sara is trying to kill all of us and apologizes for certain words that are coming up in the song that she deems not appropo.....my goal is to look like that girl...and man can she run!!! I can keep up with her for the first lap...after that...its all uphill from there...slower and slower and slower.....

BUT, with all that exercising I looked SO GOOD in my skinny DIESEL RR550's, Button down government sanctioned shirt and vest (yes we have uniforms...I know...falls right in line with the geekiness...)...Brighton leather shoes, Brighton belt, Brighton necklaces (Yes plural, I always wear at least 2), and Brighton stringers.... (Did I mention that I happen to like anything Brighton? Gave up the Brighton purse long ago for a cheap diaper bag instead....My youngest is now 6....went to a wallet instead...nothing to carry in my hands...so nice...but I digress....)

My exercise nazi friend Barb bugs me to come to the club almost every day. She exercises in the morning...then at lunch...sometimes for 2 hours...and then goes again in the evening! See what I mean? Exercise nazi...just like I said...But she is so good for me...keeps me on the exercising "straight and narrow" path....except for this procrastination phase that I am going through! Eeeeek!! Next week...I will start next week....cross my fingers hope to die....stick a needle in my eye....could I really do that? I can be tough....but needles? Could I bite on a stick first? How about mild sedation? hmmmmmmm

What were we talking about again? Oh yeah....exercising......So how's the weather where you are?

When Do You Earn Your Adult Badge?

Okay-I don't really feel like an adult. Before my mom died, she didn't have me take the "You have passed and are now an official adult" test, got the certification and plaque on the wall in the little frame that people are so proud of...whatever you would call it. I just don't feel I'm really ready to pick up that mantle and carry it on....(you know, kind of how Elisha picked it up from Elijah). So when are you ready? I asked my gram...she is 84...she said she isn't ready either....and doesn't know if you ever are ready...hmmmmm....didn't like that answer.....

I know that things that seemed so important before mean nothing now...money, power, status, wealth, big house, fancy car, keeping up with the Jones', "the American dream" (ha ha whatever that is...), learning a new sport, an education (bachelor's, master's, etc.) (my mom had them all)...none of it lasts...it all dies with you....if you ever really had it at all....never really realized that before...I always had hope for a better tomorrow...it partially of my own making...don't care at all now about any of it...None of it lasts without God in it or God in you...

You will laugh....I hate sandwiches...absolutely hate them...the last 1 I ate was the 2nd day of Kindergarten...after that, I threw them in the creek every day on the way to school so I wouldn't have to eat them (another story for later....*rolls eyes*). What did they serve at the funeral dinner? Yep...you guessed it...sandwiches...ate the stupid sandwhich and didn't even care...would have ate 10,000 of them if it would've brought her back...

Now it all seems futile. Everything you do in life seems worthless without God attached to it or in it (never noticed it so much before)...everything you do, buy, or say, how you behave in front of others, both public and private...what you read, watch on TV, put in or ON your body...food you eat. My sister brought me carrot cookies from the hospital today...my mother would make those for us when we were little...never have seen them anywhere my whole life...except here in the hospital when she was there...so weird...I sat at my desk and cried....

Little stuff I am so thankful for...putting on my own clothes...brushing my own teeth, being able to eat. (My mom was so sick...she couldn't even eat)...using the restroom in private without help...being able to breath...(I watched her suffocate and die)..and all I could do was wring my hands and pray....The warm sun shining on my face has new meaning. The smell of fresh mountain air..my sons when they smile and laugh..good healthcare available anytime day or night...even the dentist..the freedom to go for a walk down the street with no real violence or persecution because you call yourself (insert label here)....we are so blessed and we just complain to everyone about everything...including God....

Why didn't I notice these things before? Such a harsh lesson to learn at 37....I miss her so much....