The Igloo

We live on a mountain known for it's wind, but not necessarily it's snow. What snow we do get usually just blows away. It's beautiful and we love living here.... about 3 months out of the year. Christmas Eve we received a foot of snow and then wind. It created snow drifts about 4 feet deep and 50 feet long down the driveway, that blocked the Suburban into the garage.

Victor got stuck on our road coming home from work on Christmas Eve and had to leave the 4-wheel drive Explorer in the road and walk home. About 6 hours later he was assisted by a neighbor with a backhoe in getting unstuck. Meanwhile, the wind settled down and the boys, Clint, Nathan and Matthew assisted by Alli the dog, dug what they called "an igloo" into the side of the drift. They had a blast and burned a lot of boy-energy. The weather was so nice. The 4 older kids, Clint, Kayleigh, Nathan and their cousin, Justin, slept in the cave dragging in flashlights, candles, sleeping bags and had a wonderful evening. The cave was 12 feet by 7 feet and about 3 feet high inside. However, about midnight we got another foot of snow and the roof of their cave began to fall in causing the kids to dash into the house. This is Kayleigh inside the kid's "igloo" as they called it. It's really a cave in a snowdrift. On December 26th, the next morning, we woke up to incredible amount of drifting as the wind picked up. Now the drift is 5 feet high and 200 feet long down the driveway. The kid's igloo was totally drifted in and the entrance blocked. So they changed the entrance and tried digging again in 75 mph winds. Crazy kids!

We're Trapped!

These are pictures that Victor had taken Christmas Eve during his lunch hour, when the road was still plowed out. The above picture is a view of the mouth of Paradise Valley looking across the horse pasture. This pasture is usually the home to 30-60 white tail deer year 'round. I'm not sure where they are hiding at this moment.

The street signs here are unusually tall to accomodate the amount of drifting snow we get. This particular drift is about 8-10 feet high. The picture below is of Clint, Rachael and Megan climbing the snow on the rock-cut. This particular road is only traveled on by 4 families, so it gets very little maintenance.

We are so grateful to our neighbor, Jim, for the time and energy he spends keeping the road plowed. Christmas Eve, during the day, was so pretty. I sure do miss it, as I write this!

This is the view now, on Sunday. The wind is 75 mph with gusts up to who-the-heck-knows. It's about -20 below. The roads are drifted over about 4 feet deep and impassable. We have lots of food and toilet paper so for the moment we are fine. We still have electricity and heat and are grateful for it. The kids are playing the game of Life, Monopoly, Rummikub, Sequence and card games. They are totally happy.... this may change if the power goes out.Wind. People would tell you that it is an invisible force. One can only see the effect it has as in the rustling of leaves, etc... However, I would argue with them when it comes to the blowing of the cold, fine powdery snow we get here. Montanan's call it "Cold Smoke". It's bitter cold. It also sounds like a freight train is coming through the house. This wind is gutter-ripping, shingle-dancing, window-rattling and bone-chilling. AND WE ARE TOTALLY TRAPPED! We can't move the vehicles, and even if we could, we couldn't get down the mile and a half of gravel road to get to the highway. Last night a relative tried to visit but got stuck and we had to call a friend from town to pull her out. The only way out is for us to walk out. The ominous thing about all this is that the forecast is calling for at least another 5 days of this. We are expecting more snow with the continuous howling wind. Click here for our weather forecast, but just remember that it only applies to town and not for us here on the mountain. In the words of my sweet husband, Victor, "why the h*ll did I build this house up here?!"

My Christmas Loves

I love to spend Christmas with my husband and our children. That is totally my very first love of Christmas. This year I get to spend two weeks with the kids home from school. Victor even took one of those weeks off.

The kids are so cute the way they pack and repack the gifts under the tree. They enjoy playing games, wrestling or just eating, as long as it's done together. Of course, loving Christmas with my family is a given. So the rest of my "Christmas Loves List" is maybe alittle less typical.

I love snow. I am so thrilled that this year, we'll have a WHITE Christmas. As I type this, we are snowed-in. We have more than 3 foot drifts blocking our road. Victor was able to get out through the neighbor's pasture but

that was because he was driving downhill. Coming home, going uphill, may be a different story. He will probably have to leave the vehicle in the pasture and walk home. There are 20-40 mph wind with 50 mph gusts. It's blowing the 12 inches that fell yesterday onto the road. Our neighbor has had his backhoe out now for 2 hours but he is having a tough time staying ahead of the drifting. But I'm cool with it all. I'd love to be snowed-in at home....for a month!

Decorating the house and trimming the tree is also a favorite activity of mine. It's an all-day project that must be accompanied with music, preferably Mannheim Steamroller and cider-sipping. I love antique decor, I guess because it reminds me of my youth. Old large light bulbs on the houses look like Christmas to me, not the over-done look some homes have with the Vegas-strip, neon-blinking, fake-icicle-dripping chaos.

I love Christmas Carols. I love to sing them, I love to hear them. I love them in instrumental form or performed by a famous rock band. I love them sung by a choir, especially the Mormon Tabernacle Choir or a cute school choir. I love to be in the kitchen baking with the radio playing Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer, except my pet peeve is when the disc jockey cuts off the end of the song. ... "Grandma got run over by a rein...."

I love to receive Christmas cards in the mail. I get to hear from family and friends that are dear but you rarely see as the years pass. The cards are artistic, cute, inspirational and tender. I like the glittery kind. And often they arrive with a letter telling about the sender's activities during the year and includes a family picture with everyone dressed in matching blue denim and sitting out in the wilderness by a stream during an obviously non-winter month. I tape these cards to the back of our front door. We save them until next year in the Christmas storage boxes until next Christmas when my children cut them apart and make collages out of them. We have quite a collection of collages dating back to the early '90s.

I love the treats. Eggnog only arrives in the stores during Christmas. What yummy stuff. We put green food coloring in it and call it "Frognog".

This year is the first year I am going to try to make it myself. Then there's fudge, candy canes, fruit cake (I hear I am the only person on the planet that loves it) and clementine tangerines.

Christmas Parties! They are equipped with the treats I love, the music I love and friends we love. We've been to office parties with entertainment or intimate parties with friends. It's all wonderful.

I Nicked the Census Man

One of my favorite movies is Oh Brother Where Art Thou? If you haven't seen it.... run out now and rent it. It's spit-out your popcorn funny!

Quote from the movie:

CHILD at front door with double-barrelled shotgun: "You men from the bank?"

PETE, one of 3 escaped convicts, looking for a hiding place: "You Wash's boy?"

CHILD: "Yassir! And Daddy tolt me I'm to shoot whosoever from the bank!"

He pokes his shotgun at the three men, who raise their hands.

DELMAR: "Well, we ain't from no bank, young feller."

CHILD: "Yassir! I's also s'pose to shoot folks servin' papers!"

DELMAR: "Well, we ain't got no papers."

CHILD: "Yassir! I nicked the census man!"

DELMAR: "Now, there's a good boy. Is your daddy about?"

Ah, the Census Man. I wonder just how many did "get nicked" in the line of duty?

I have a passion for genealogic research of my family tree. I have spent countless hours over the past 30 years, looking at the census records of the 1800's. The census was taken every 10 years. The census taker would walk, through all kinds of weather, with his/her book and ink pen from shanty to shack, farm to farm, plantation to plantation, in his quest to count everyone in the district. He was to record names, ages, sexes, heads of household, occupation, children, slaves, servants, literacy and mother-in-laws living with them.

My imagination runs wild when I read a census page. Basically knowing what that family's statistics were 10 years before, it's amazing to me how the census taker managed to foul up the spelling and ages of names. I once saw Josephine spelled Hoseifeen. And I have proof that women have been lying about their age for centuries! Perhaps their errors weren't the fault of them alone. Perhaps the only person home to answer questions was the father and his mule or oxen plowing the field. "Ma and the younguns are over visiting Aunt Euphenagia down yonder a spell." Asking any man, the names and ages of his children is always a crap-shoot. And would he have the foggiest idea about his mother-in-law's name and age, who has been living with him now these past 13 years? "Yes Sir, Mama don't read nor write neither!" Not that he would pay attention if she did.

A census tells so much information. If there was a 2 year old boy in 1850 but he doesn't appear in 1860 then chances are he had passed away by illness or accident. I once saw the Foster family with 3 children. They owned an Inn in Virginia where they had a Judge, school teacher and 2 tailors renting from them. Other records showed that all 3 children died the same day (house fire). Ten years later, the parents, Isaac and Mary, had traveled to Kansas. Mary had given birth along the way. They arrived in Atchison, had 3 more children and then the parents and the oldest daughter died of small pox leaving the youngest 3 children as orphans. My ancestor, Josie, was the oldest of the three living children. A tale that was found reading the census records.

The people of the last 3 centuries had hard lives. Hard work and tragedy filled their days. Their experiences made them tough and faithful. Their tenacity forged a new nation and left a mark on the generations that followed. I love studing their lives and find myself lost in it. Oh, what I would give for a time machine.

Yes, it would be wonderful to transport myself to the grassy knoll on Friday, Nov. 22, 1963, in Dallas, Texas at 12:30 p.m. to see where those bullets REALLY came from. Or I could arrive just as a 1,406 pound meteor fragment drops outside of Flagstaff, Arizona. Or I could put myself in the cockpit of Amelia Earhart's plane in July 1937 and find out what island she has been living on all these years.

Instead, though, I would really like to visit with my ancestors. I would love to take my time machine up the road from the Shelton Plantation, Rural Plains, on a cool October day, in 1754. After "landing", with autumn leaves rustling as I walked, I'd quietly steal behind the rest of the family to witness the marriage of soon-to-be Governor Patrick Henry to my 16 year-old 5th Great Aunt Sarah Shelton. I'd stand next to her sister, my 5th Great Grandmother, Elizabeth, and take in the setting. What a joyous occasion. I know the marriage ceremony took place at the mansion. Was it outside on a beautiful fall day or did it take place inside?

I will continue to dream of my time machine.

I am Snowdayzed!

I have a 7 year old named Megan. She loves Christmas music. When we have the holiday music CDs going she dances and twirls around the livingroom. If, however, the stereo or the radio isn't on, she will wind up every snowglobe in the house. With Deck The Halls, Jinglebells and I'll Be Home For Christmas all playing at once, it sounds holidayesque but you can't understand a thing and certainly can't sing along. She doesn't mind much. I do, when they are playing for the 13th time in a row! I begin to wig out. The snowmen folks in this picture sing We Wish You a Merry Christmas and they dance. The Santa doesn't sing or dance. He is just scary looking!

Brooke saw that I was writing this blog post and told me that the noisy musical decor was NOT the most scary thing about our Christmas decorating. She ran through the house counting all our snowmen... we have 53! That's not counting wrapping paper, pajama fabric or Christmas cards. Some are on the tree but most are all over the furniture or hanging on the walls or doorknobs. I have written before that I love snowflakes. I also love snowmen and have been collecting them. They are cheery and cute with their corncob pipes and button noses.

Look at Frosty! He's cute, grandfather-esque, kind, jolly and deals with spring and his inevitable demise-by-melting, very well. He loves little children. Just like Frosty, "I will be back again someday!"

ABCs of me... ok, I'm over this already...

A is for age: 49, let's not dwell on this.
B is for burger of choice: Since I can't eat wheat, it's been ages since I've had a commercial burger. So, I love a good elk burger without bun and lots of gluten-free ketch-up.

C is for the car I drive: 2002 White Suburban.

D is for your dog's name: Bo the Cockapoo and Alli the Golden Retriever.

E is for essential item you use every day: Keys. Now what would my family do if I didn't input them into the ignition everyday?

F is for favorite TV show at the moment: I never catch shows when they first come out and are popular. I discover them years later when they are in reruns or you can buy season 39 on disc at WalMart....so right now I like Everybody Likes Raymond.

G is for favorite game: Sequence.

H is for home state: Montana

I is for instruments you play: Piano, but haven't practiced in decades.

J is for favorite juice: A love fruit juice of any kind.

K is for whose bum you'd like to kick: Direct TV. These people just can't get their act together. We live out in the sticks on a mountain, so we don't get cable and antenna reception is seriously scribbly. Satellite is our only option and they will NOT give us the national networks like ABC, CBS, NBC, PBS or FOX because they might compete with the local channels. Some law was passed about competition. Hello, we DON'T get locals. So where is the competition for a family like ours that gets NOTHING, I'd like to ask? We do get Hallmark and AMC, so I'm alright for the time being, but don't ask me to tell you about current events. We don't get the news. So, who won the election anyway?

L is for last restaurant at which you ate: Montana's Rib & Chop House. This place is a one of a kind, except for the one they have in Billings. Very cozy, terrific food, TVs for the sports enthusiasts and we always run into someone we know. It's a social event to go there.

M is for your favorite Muppet: It's a toss up between Mew, the cat-toy and Rugby, an adventurous tiger, both in Jim Henson's Secret Life of Toys. This show was created in the '80s.

N is for number of piercings: One in each ear lobe.

O is for overnight hospital stays: I have been the patient in a hospital 11 times for the 11 babies I delivered. However, I have stayed in the hospital for months on end, if you add up all the nights I sat by a hospitalized child or recovering husband. I have lost count of how many surgeries and illnesses all my children have had... an appendectomy, rotovirus, double knee surgery, double achilles-lengthening surgery, 2 heart surgeries, pneumonia, asthma, anaphylactic shock from nuts, concussions, wisdom teeth extractions, countless stitches, a broken arm, a broken leg, unidentified-virus-causing-unconsciousness, and all the newborn babies with lengthy NICU stays, just to name a few.
P is for people you were with today: Victor, the dogs (who think they are people, too), our children, the kids I taught when I substituted in the Tech Ed. class in the 8th grade, and all the parents of 7th grade choir members during their Christmas Concert tonight.
Q is for what you do with your quiet time: I never have that unless it's midnight and the whole house is asleep. Then I like to quilt or blog.

R is for biggest regret: Let's not go there.

S is for status: Wikipedia says that status is a state, condition, a situtation. My State is Montana. My Condition is not pregnant. My Situation is blissfully, exstatically, peacefully married for 8 months!

T is for time you woke up today: 5:55 a.m.
U is for what you consider unique about yourself: I am the best blogger out there. Ok, really, that I love children so much, especially my OWN perfectly, marvelous, wonderful children.

V is for vegetables you love: Broccoli, carrots, peas, corn, asparagas, onions, GARLIC!

W is for worst habit: I am habit free!! :-)

X is for x-rays you've had: Teeth. Do ultrasounds count? I've had too many of those to count.

Y is for yummy food you ate today: I got called in to Sub teach at the middle school. School cafeteria food is gaggy so I didn't eat. I came home after school and was ravenous and found the most yummy roast in the crock pot! My Sweetheart came home from work during his lunch hour and put in a pot roast with onions, carrots and mushrooms. It was delectable.

Z is for zodiac: Virgo the Virgin. LOL!

Snowcrystals

I love snowflakes. I love their symmetry, their order, their sparkle, their absolute uniqueness. I love their ability to be delicate, fragile and vulnerable when they're alone but a they can be a formidable force when they are together. So much like a family. So much like a community. So much like a nation. A terrific website about snow crystals, as Mr. Kenneth G. Libbrecht, calls them is snowcrystals.com . I bought his Field Guide to Snowflakes a couple of years ago. His photography is stunning and humbling.

I love snowflakes and it's a dang good thing because there are a whole bunch of them piling up outside. The suburban registered -17 degrees below ZERO last night. It is so cold that (drummer roll) ...we had to chisle the dog off the lamp-post and we're hoping to get sick just to have a fever!

I don't understand how the herds of horses outside manage to stay alive. They have two inches of snow on their backs. Why aren't they rubbing their hooves together next to a roaring fire out in that field? They should be in their below-zero Polarguard sleeping bags with equine earmuffs and mucklucks on. I worry about them.

I worry about us! Tomorrow I will scurry all the kids off to school and it will still be dark and at least -15 below. There will be the usual conversation, "No, you are not wearing shorts, get that heavy coat on and don't forget your ski gloves and hats!" The schools probably won't have the kids play outside today because of the temps. I love this snowflake. I love hexagons.

Dog Taxi

It's Monday and I am home --all alone-- in the house. Envision McCauley Culkin in the movie Home Alone, running through his house slamming the doors and listening to the echo. Sometimes, I don't know what to do with myself in all this quiet. Neither place, where I work as a temp, called me in today.

Since it is Monday, the family got a slow start this morning. Instead of having the kids take the school bus I drove the kids into town and dropped them off at their respective schools. Rachael and Stacey won't be coming off the bus after school today as this is "switching" day. They will go to her mother's house and will be with her this week. This is a hard court-appointed system and we really miss them when they are gone.

As I drove home I stopped at the line of mailboxes, jumped out of the car and grabbed our local newspaper out of our box. This is very much what our line of mailboxes look like except imagine no leaves on the trees, no blue sky (grey this morning), a skiff of snow on the ground and very icy. I put the vehicle in 4-wheel drive and as I drove down our road, enjoying the scenery and deer, I heard a few sniffs in the seat behind me. I instantly thought the kids had snuck our golden retriever into the Suburban on the way to school. However, when I looked back.... that was not Alli! I screamed and slammed on the brakes. In the seat behind me was a dog that looks similar to this picture. I have no idea if his eyes were this crazy because I didn't get that close a look at him. I jumped out of the car and yelled at him to get out. He jumped out and I got in the car as fast as I could, my adreneline just flowing. How in the heck did that dog get in? I never saw him at the mailboxes. He was fast and sneaky is all I can say! I feel bad now, wondering if I should have put him back in and taken him to the pound. But he and I never had time to get to know each other. As soon as he jumped out, he was gone. I think he was grateful for the ride.

Well, now I need to get off this keyboard and zip around the house. The laundry hampers are full of filthy clothes, the morning dishes need to be loaded into the dishwasher and I need to light some yummy-smelling candles. I hope that dog has a great day. I'll be thinking about him today.

Double Thursday 13

I AM: supposed to be getting dinner planned and made.
I WANT: Christmas with ALL my family surrounding
I HAVE: the love of my life in my life.
I MISS: eating gluten-filled pastries.
I FEAR: falling out of a boat, into the ocean and getting eaten alive by big things with teeth.
I HEAR: about people around the world suffering and wish I could be with them to ease their pain.

I SEARCH: for everything, because I can't find anything, because I lose everything!
I WONDER: where everything went? I REGRET: taking after my mother in the memory department. :-)
I FORGIVE: my mother for genetically altering my otherwise brilliant mind and giving me memory loss!

I ACHE: ...stinkin' fibromyalgia!
I TRY: to ignore how my body feels and live outside of me.
I AM NOT: oh, yes, I am!!!
I ALWAYS: get sidetracked... where is that...? oh yes, I'm doing this blog...
I KNOW: everything.... just ask me.
I FEEL: that peri-menopause has left me... the real thing is headed my way!
I DANCE: better when I am dancing with Victor.
I DREAM: in color and in music.
I GIVE: UP! That should read, I never give up!
I SING: alto
I CAN'T: change the past.
I CRY: when I think about my grown kids... I miss them so much.
I SLEEP: totally when forced.
I SEE: dead people...
I NEED: a shower.
I SHOULD: finish my genealogy.

Fridge Tag & Laundry Pile

My daughter, Rachel, tagged me on her fridge blog. I'm not even sure what a tag is but I thought I would do as she said and write about this scary part of our home. We have a cool, silver looking double-wide fridge. For some reason, even though it is silver, (doesn't that mean that it is metal?) magnets don't stick to it! GASP! I just love fridge magnets and it kills me to have a perfectly plain exterior.... except for those fingerprints, which must have sex and multiply right there on the front of the door! The veggie drawers, though officially called "crispers", in our case are called "rotters". It is the most foul thing to open them and find a bag of liquidy baby spinach. As you can see, we buy everything in bulk and in very large containers. Eight kids at home.... not to mention their friends.... thank you Costco! You will notice that large pan of ~~~ hold on to your hat, Rachel, ~~~FUDGE~~~ It is 2/3 eaten and the spatula is still in the pan for easy access when nibbling. There are still candied yams and mashed potatoes in there, too. I need to get off this blog post and get back to what Mommy's are supposed to do.... fold the mammoth mountains of clean clothes that will become durtified in an hour after the kids have gotten off the school bus. ~~~sigh~~~

A Girlie Fest

I was recently bloggin' with my laptop on my bed. I had peace and quiet.... for about 3.5 minutes. I have learned that if children see their parents relaxing, it's automatically an invitation to ruin (?) that relaxation. This picture is a PERFECT example of the girls in our house trying to get some attention. Stacey is playing with my hair, Brooke and Heather are trying to stop Rachael from clawing their eyes out.... or something. Anyway, we had a grand time and the men in the house just did not get this estrogen-fest. Victor took this picture.... baffled by the high-pitched giggling and hysterical screaming going on.
You will notice that there are no males in this pile! Nathan was hibernating in his room with his GenX-Box 4900 -- or whatever those electronic game machines are called. Clint was in the kitchen on the other computer, wondering what in the heck the clamor was all about.....Matthew thought it was dumb and wasn't going to set foot in my bedroom as he knew he would get sucked into the sister-abyss. Wise boy! Actually, I think he was quite terrified!

Bo, however, even though he is male, thinks this is quite interesting and 'can he please attend this party?' The dog is on the bed again, Victor......