It's There

There's this certain way he greets the neighborhood dog.  It's like he tells Lefty in every word just how happy he is to see him and that he appreciates getting to spend minutes of this precious life together.  

It gets me every time.  If it's not written down somewhere, it should be.  Judge a man by the way he treats a dog.

Between Christmas and New Year's we were out clearing snow together, me on the shovel and him on the snow-blower.  The cold air cut through my lungs and I kept looking around - at the mountains, the little trees we so carefully care for all summer long, the lit up wreaths on the garage lights, the front porch, and the man greeting Lefty in that certain way as he came bounding through the white fluff.  And then I had one of those moments, you know the kind I'm sure.  The kind where you actually feel like the world is aligned and you are right where you are supposed to be.  

Inside my fleece lined leather mitten, I felt on my left hand the ring.  The ring that was given to me the day after Christmas.  The ring that was given to me in the most special way and that tells me we get to be right where we belong for the rest our lives.  Because right where we belong is right with each other.  

Folding Hunting Tents and Deer Off

I just found this in my drafts folder and I don't want it to disappear so even though it's now January 4th, 2016 and I wrote this on a night in November of 2015, here it is.  It's like the Christmas card that gets sent in April, or something like that.  Without further ado, a piece of my mind and shots from my viewfinder...from October, but in January.  

My view right now is white hotel bedding and a remote that quite possibly holds more germs than anything I can currently muster up in my mind.  I try not to think about it, the funk of how many folks from different strokes have touched the hotel remotes.  But, hotel nights are my nights to catch up on emails while watching HGTV or the latest Real Housewives of Somewhere and that trumps the dirty remotes.  

On Halloween evening, we folded hunting tents because that seemed like a normal thing to do.  The view that night was just a little bit better than white hotel bedding.  I kept saying things like, "Love a duck the sky is doing some good things right now.  Hey are you looking?!  Look.  I mean really, that yellow tree is killing it over there.  The clouds!  I love the way the white tips look against the fall colors.  Are you looking?!"

The reaction I get to most of those spurts of sentiments over pretty that happen more often than I care to admit is the face of yes, yes Amy it's pretty.  But then it's followed by another look - a quick little glimmer of I love that you love that.

After we finished folding, I reminded Kiel that last year we folded the hunting tents together too.  We were fresh then, new in our finding out who we were and are together.  A quick little chuckle escaped as I then reminded him of what he said to me when we finished.

"Okay.  So you're capable."

I guess he didn't know he had found a girl who could do things like fold hunting tents since all we had really done up that point was go to Bison football game weekends together.  

Lucky him.  I guess folding hunting tents was a test and I passed.  

Little did he know at that time I would also be capable of a great many things as we progressed through the year.  Really, really important things like rearranging the kitchen counters and Roundup-ing weeds in landscaping rocks and Miracle Grow-ing the shit out of those baby growing trees.  

When spring rolled around, I secretly thought Kiel was potentially a little over the top in his care for the rows and rows of little evergreen trees that surround the yard.  He talked to them for Pete's sake and said things like, "That one was a good one.  He grew really well last year and now look at him.  He just couldn't make it through the winter."  

It's most likely no shock I found this mildly over the top.  

But now!

Now I've spent time caring for those trees.  Much time.  

So when a big buck deer decided it was in his rights as an antlered being to RUB all over the trees and go right ahead and take off branch after branch after branch and break the little trunks into these poor pitiful broken stalks...

I felt like it was just not acceptable.  Do you know how many years that little tree had to work to get that big?  Now I've joined the crazy team.  The team who is trying to grow trees in Montana which is apparently much harder than one would think.  I mean don't tell anyone I said this, but North Dakota might even be better at it.  And don't even get me started on the internet situation in the 406.  I used all the internet in one day.  How is that even possible?  But I digress.  

I hate to think that this tree right here is probably broken off right now, on the ground.  Just lying there because it couldn't fight against the big buck. 

I also hate to think about the Deer Off that we sprayed on Sunday in the 50+ mile an hour wind because we simply had to get it done before we left for travel working for weeks.  Deer Off smells like hell.  Like actual hell, or at least what I can imagine it might smell like in a place you are not wanting to be EVER and when it gets in your eyes, your eyes will burn and tingle for days.  

BUT the trees that buck hadn't gotten to already?!  They will survive dammit.  

Because I am capable. 

Plus this is pretty.  

Another Fall in the Books

I'm not going to lie.  I'm sitting next to a Christmas tree right this second, one that I put up over the weekend.  It has sparkly lights and it's making my heart happy and I don't feel bad that I jumped the gun on the twinkle this year.  I can blame a great many things on this early red and green.  The blame list follows, in no particular order. 

1.  I moved.  Moving creates this insane feeling of must have everything organized and must try to find some calm.  And apparently, in my case, must throw the chaos of pine needles and lights that don't work in the mix.

2.  Carla (Kiel's mom) gave me boxes of Christmas hand me downs.  This doesn't mean the same as getting hand me downs from most, because Carla is the queen of red and green.  She put up 23 trees this year.  Yes, there are 23 full size trees already up in her house and it's the beginning of November.  

3.  Tomorrow I start traveling and won't be home until much into December.  Selfishly, I didn't want decorating to be on the return list.  Rather, I wanted to walk in the front door and say ahhhhhhh and where's the hot cocoa with Peppermint Schnapps?  

4.  My family is celebrating Christmas on Saturday of Thanksgiving week this year.  For weeks, I've been preparing my gift for the exchange so I feel it must be December.  No?  Oh.  

5.  I received the always cute invite to the annual Cookie Exchange brunch at Danae's earlier this past week.  There's nothing like planning what you will make ten dozen of to get you in the holiday spirit.  I found the cutest treat bags to put my goody in this year too; they make me say yes!  Because they are tiny and festive and it just doesn't get better than that combination. 

6.  This is a mountain house in Montana.  It screams and begs to have wreaths hanging on the front porch and wooden Santas riding reindeer, bears, and ducks on the mantel.  It just does,  you would understand if you were here. 

There you have it, the list of blame. 

Christmas is up and I'm saying goodbye to another fabulous fall season that included this hike to the second highest waterfall in Oregon - Salt Creek Falls.  I am saying goodbye to fall but that doesn't mean I want icy roads for travel, okay roads?  Work with me.   

Currently

Currently I'm...

Sitting in a rocker in the front foyer looking out at the sunrise watercolor strokes through the wreath pine edges.

Sipping coffee from the pot I had to MacGyver with a toothpick to brew this morning - I guess the small plastic piece was indeed important that broke off in my hands. 

Reflecting on packing up my entire house on Saturday and moving here on Sunday; it was a crazy whirlwind but I'm like a kid in a candy store having all my things in one place again.  

Thanking my kick-ass family for stepping in and helping me get the job done - could not, could not have pulled that off without them.  My sister-in-law saved me on Saturday, pure and simple.  A crew came in after deer hunting to load the trailer in the dark night.  My cousin Austin drove here and back basically in one day.  What would we do without family?  Turns out, I don't want to know.   

Wondering if the large area rug in the kitchen is too much.  

Keeping a balance of duck, geese, and elk art with my wonky vintage tendencies to tack aprons to the wall, sew buttons onto fabric and frame it, and hang pictures with glitter clothespins.  I believe in this house representing us both...the things we love, which means I'm determined to pull off the aesthetic of woodsy mountain deer meets vintage farm zebra.   

Telling myself that future me will worry about all of the winter travel in and out of here for work.  If I worry about it before it happens, it's a futile exercise.  

Remembering how the notion of actually saying in my mind, "Future you will worry about xyz..." truly works.  It's an exercise I picked up somewhere along the way and it keeps me from spinning on things that might not even happen.  Future you will worry about xyz too...give it a whirl.  

Pondering hooking up my big computer all on my own.  This is coming from the girl who once had her best friend's husband come over to hook up the DVD player.  I'm good at a great many things, hooking up technology simply isn't one of them.  But I want my pictures and my pictures live on the big one.  

Feeling thankful.  Really, really thankful.  Life is not perfect because nothing ever is, but my favorite orange bench is here and I have the best person ever to share it with.  

Warming up to the holiday season; I've hung a wreath on the front door and am looking forward to spending Thanksgiving at the farm, a little time in early December in Arizona, followed by Christmas in the mountains.  I'm ready.  The boxes are unpacked and I'm ready for the best time of the year.  

Thinking about how I'm not as physically strong as I used to be; there was a time when I could lift and carry pretty much anything.  It was the farm upbringing, I'm sure.  I don't know if it's my age, the surgery I had this summer, or the fact that I don't get to go to Muscle Pump with Sara at the YMCA anymore...but I've definitely wimped out a bit.  It's ironic however, I feel the strongest I've ever been mentally.  Now, why can't I get that Christmas tree box up the freaking stairs? 

Reminiscing about the Oregon trip and these captures from Crater Lake.  To say it was breathtaking is an understatement and it's worth adding to your list of places to visit.  Please make sure you make reservations way ahead of time for Crater Lake Lodge, unlike us.  We tend to book flights and hotels the week of travel because that's just the season we are in.  The coffee by the fire at the lodge was our way of pretending we were staying and not driving.  

Adulthood or Something Like It

When do you know how to really be an adult?

I remember lying in my bed as a teenager with thoughts rolling through my head like...

How do taxes work?  Will I ever have a clue how to do them?  What if I don't do my taxes right, then what happens?

Who decides things about insurance?  Do you always just have an insurance man come to your dining room table and hammer it out for the year or is that more of a Dad thing?  What do you do if you aren't Dad?   

What will I ever do if the furnace breaks, freeze?  

Please tell me I wasn't a completely neurotic teenager and you all had these types of items running through your mind as well.  Or at the very least, it happened to you once college hit.  No?  Twenty-five then!  It had to start happening at twenty-five! 

The good news is - I now take care of my taxes, insurance, and have successfully handled a new hot water heater, which I feel is close to the heater of my previous thoughts.  

Does this mean I'm an actual adult?  Probably.  I mean, I am thirty-two.  

BUT.  

Every once in awhile something comes out of right field where I think, "Alright.  Who takes care of this for me?  Oh.  I do?  Shoot."  

Or every once in awhile my mom stands in my kitchen as we are packing it up for the big move and says something absolutely genius to my little sister, "Emily, we are going to put each piece of china in a Ziploc bag.  That way, it won't break on the trip and we aren't wasting a bunch of paper.  She can still use the bags once the china is unpacked."  

That's an entirely different level of adulthood right there.  That is most likely described best as momma-hood - specifically, MommaDebi-hood.  

Someday.  Someday I'll be as cool.  

Do you get that smart when you have kids?  I'm betting that's the ticket.  I don't even have a dog; I just claim the neighbors as my own because he loves me.  Lefty, not my neighbor - let's not start any rumors.  

Fall to the Next

I think fall as a season is meant to be a reminder to enjoy the current and the now before worrying about the next.  After fall comes winter and we know it happens the same every year and yet, there's something about fall that brings out the happy in us.  Seeing the colorful leaves, wrapping a sweater around your shoulders for the first time, hugging a cup of coffee with steam rising from the cool air meeting the hot liquid, hearing the crispness of the grass as you walk through - it all makes us take pause.  

Yesterday, I had a mild breakdown of sorts.  An anxiety fueled session of worrying about moving.  Where will the stuff fit?  How will we coordinate the coming together of two complete houses into one?  It probably started as a legitimate concern but ended as a tailspin of going nowhere fast.  Self admittedly, I let it get the best of me when I deep down know it will all settle in and figure itself out as things like this tend to do when they are done for all the right reasons.  All of my worries were about the tiny stuff, the material things.  The big stuff, the who we are as people being together causes me absolutely no concern.    

This morning, I awoke feeling like I once again hold the capacity to enjoy the current season before worrying about the next.  Figuratively and literally.  I slid my arms into my favorite long sweater, walked to the kitchen to start the coffee, and looked outside at the mountains with the yellow trees in front of them.  

Fall.  

Scissors It Is

No grizzly sighting today.  Maybe he has moved on to juicier pastures.  

The latest words of wisdom from Kiel on the manner were, "Ooooooooo...I bet Bear is thinking she smells like popcorn, iced lattes, and good cheese."  

Here's where I admit his musing is fairly accurate.  Add dry roasted, salted almonds and the nail would be hit on the head.  

In other news of the evening, I just finished weed-whacking around the house with a scissor.  It's because I'm a perfectionist, and when I start something it gets all the way done.  It's also because I am stubborn.  It's not because I don't know how to run a weed-whacker.  I grew up on a farm and have spent more hours with a Stihl than I have sharpening pencils.  Changing the string and mixing the gas are on my resume.  Rest assured, use an actual weed-whacker I can.  The reason I chose a scissor this round was because I potentially already broke a water pump early this morning when the sunrise looked like this - the flag blowing in the wind and the pump burning up.  

The thought of ruining two things in one day was too much for this prideful heart to manage.  I should say potentially ruining again here.   

While I was crouched down snip snipping, I thought to myself, as vehicles drove by on the gravel road, please let this look like I'm simply picking weeds out of the landscaping rocks, not that I'm using a scissors to cut the grass around the edging.  That's a reputation one might never live down.  

The verdict is in and a scissors works.  The job is done.  I can rest easy.  

Here's the precise pretty sunset picture I took the other night while the neighbors were shooting in the air and yelling at the grizzly bear.  Aren't you glad that tall(ish) grass around the landscaping edging is now cut?  I know I sure am.    

Sunrise and sunset, you've now been covered for both.  

Montana House: Story One

My first day of being alone here in Montana and there's a grizzly bear in the neighborhood.  He was shooed away from one garage only to be found in the next garbage.  Two of the neighbors did some chasing and some gun shot firing, in the air not at the bear, and that grizzly wasn't fazed a bit.  It's like he has found his groove here.  

After I finished working, I put on my tennies to go for a walk.  I went to see if the one neighbor still was babysitting the other neighbor's dog named Lefty to steal him to take with me.

I think this may be getting confusing.  So far I have discussed four neighbors and only one has doubled up - bear chaser and Lefty babysitter is the same person.  Also, I feel like maybe I should explain that Lefty is a little bit of everyone's dog; he just frolics about and settles in wherever people are outside.  Before the great knee surgery of 2015, he liked to go on long runs with me too.  This is why I felt okay with stealing him.  

Alright back to the story.  

Tennies on.  Walked to the neighbor's house.  Found the neighbor talking to the other neighbor about just doing the shooting, chasing, and attempting to get the grizzly to find a new home routine.  Casually mentioned I wanted to steal Lefty for a walk.  

Was quickly returned with, "You can walk my golf course instead.  One loop around is a quarter mile and that way you'll be close by."  

I interpreted this to mean that way you'll be close by so the bear won't actually eat you, he'll just try.  I'm dramatic like that.   

So I walked their golf course around and around.  Then I went to water trees and do other yard work.  Then Kiel called and I told him all about the grizzly.  Then I went back to yard puttering in the pretty sunset-like air.  

Then I sent this text to Kiel, "I just heard shots again.  And yelling."

To which he replied, "Stay by the house."

To which I replied, "I am and I have bear spray with me."  

Then I texted him a pretty picture of the sunset against the trees and house because that's what I do in these situations.  Take a picture.  

Then I grabbed a book to sit outside and read.  

I figure if I'm going to be a Montana girl, then I best be okay with a roaming grizzly.  Even if we are fairly certain we heard him eating a cow in the coulee across the road earlier this summer.  Whatever.  

This is a grizzly bear, but not the one in this neighborhood.  Just for clarification, we don't have nearly this many broken down trees.  We don't have any actually, just little baby trees that we water to get to grow, grow, grow.  It feels like a full time job.     

This is an elk.

Again, not in our exact neighborhood as we don't have a lake out front either.  Here's the good news folks...I haven't stopped with loving to state the obvious.  

This is a color scheme I would like in a kitchen one day.  Copper!  I need not say more. 

This is a bison.  Go Bison!  

Here's the other good news folks...I haven't stopped being entirely random either.