Dingbat Adventures in the Rural West

Tired of the Blame

2011-07-06T10:37:00.004-06:00

I wrote this in response to a less-than-correct Facebook status I saw today. The original, cutesy, let's-blame-someone-else message was this:

If you cross the N. Korean border illegally, you get 12 yrs. hard labor.
If you cross the Afghanistan border illegally, you get shot.
If you cross the U.S. border illegally you get a job, a driver's license, food stamps, a place to live, health care, housing & child benefits, education, & tax free business for 7 yrs.
No wonder we are a country in debt.

In response, I suggested the poster to take a look at the Wyoming requirement for driver's license and to see the difficulty involved with anyone getting a license, natural born or otherwise. To really know the situation, I also suggest they give this article a read as well.

http://bit.ly/p8YvFA

Reform definitely needs to happen but a person touting this philosophy needs to ask themselves if the current Congress would do it. Their current game is about blame, but they seem more than off in who they should blame. In this situation, blaming an individual that comes for a promise of a job is no solution, as well as inaccurate and immoral.

If our generation wants to see Social Security benefits at our 70+ retirement age, immigration has to be opened to whomever wants to come. Pay a fee for the processing of documents, ideally less than what is paid to a Coyote, get a SS#, get that quadruple-checked driver's license, enroll the children in school and offer the 'American Dream' to those willing to pay into our system. There needs to be more hardworking, contributing individuals to support all the retiring, Reactionary News (insert news channel's name here) watching baby boomers. But, then, who would be blamed for what is not agreed with? Currently, an undocumented person working in the US has money withheld from their pay with no hope of ever seeing it again because they don't have a valid SS# or tax i.d and will never collect any of it in the way of retirement benefits. In reality, what they were promised in pay is even less at the end of the day or week or month.

I am the granddaughter and great-granddaughter of immigrants. Based on the records I've seen, my Irish g-gf came in through Canada. It was a much less expensive option than New York, Boston or New Orleans during the famine years when the coffin ships were filled with the starving from the west of Ireland. The landowners saw it as their only option, to free themselves of the starving individuals that worked their land for little more than a place to live. Upon the arrival of the immigrant Irish in the new country, those that survived the trip or born en route, found themselves only finding the jobs no one else wanted because they were the newest and lowest economic class. I think this may fall under the adage of 'the more things change, the more they stay the same.' There is always a disadvantaged class that is seen as responsible for the current economic woes, when it's usually the wealthier classes bearing much of the responsibility for the mismanagement, tax dodging and economic misdeeds. In today's Congress, see who is most against tax hikes for the wealthiest individuals and corporations; those same individuals aren't even willing to talk about fixing the current mess to legitimize and legalize as many immigrants as they could. What a way to kiss off piles of money that could come in to help those social programs that are on the chopping block!

I received a bumper sticker from a friend in Florida today that can be applied to this subject:

All people are created equal members of one human family

I just hope, with immigration reform and less blame of any immigrant group, we can also be one American family, too.

(And, my response to the original status update? It was deleted. When faced with compassion, truth and links, jingoism is much more attractive than reality.)

July 2 Hike Up Heart Mountain

2011-07-03T19:21:00.000-06:00

iCats

2011-04-16T06:50:00.000-06:00

Cats And Kids Across The Decades

2011-02-24T21:03:00.007-07:00

Kittypoo and Justine circa 1974
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

Even with about four decades in between, kids grabbing cats never ceases to result in some good feline expressions...

A Boy and His Old Pink Cat 2010
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

The Mackster

2011-02-01T20:21:00.001-07:00

9-25-06macromack2small
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

Today, even with its weather-induced challenges, started okay. It's really, really cold here. I put a Hawaiian shirt on over my turtleneck and headed off for school. I sent Augusta back to school after her being home sick yesterday. She missed an audition for the Missoula Children's Theater while we were at the pediatrician, but thankfully she was not diagnosed with strep. I kept thinking 'Hawaii', even showing some of my students the obvious and almost comical differences between here and there. At the time I looked, the temperature in Powell was -13°; the projected high in Oahu today was 77°. It's not often that there is a 90° difference on a thermometer. We also made a list of things that we might have here, to handle the cold; snowsuit, snow boots, hat, mittens, hot chocolate. We then made a list of what we might have at the beach, since we were being mental travelers; bathing suit, flip-flops, sun hat, sunscreen, a fizzy pop. The point of the lesson was, no matter what one is doing there is a want for a few things. I guess what it all comes down to is warmth.

Anyhow, home we came after school for me to discover that one additional effect of the cold is the return of the addled, naughty old cat. He left a bloody mess on my bed and the two other cats, that had not been naughty as far as I know, were forced out of my bedroom's safe haven. I changed the bedding, started the laundry and remembered I needed to make a couple of quick stops before dark. I bundled up the kids and had them get in the car. I'd forgotten my purse, so back in the house I went. Back out to the car, with the stuff I thought I needed. Multiple doors had opened and shut and I thought we could go. I started the engine, heard a "THUMP" and saw one of our cats limping away, into the neighbors yard. It was Mack, the big cat. I went after him, calling for him to come back. He was under a trailer next door, howling. I went back to the car, told the kids to go back in the house. I went after Mack. I called him from our back yard and could see him next door. He wouldn't even look at me.

I tried all the calls and cajoles. He wouldn't respond. Yeah, I know ... when does a cat ever really listen? I went next door and was down on hands and knees in the crusty snow, trying to coax him out. He ran again, this time across the alley, and climbed into an old, parked truck. As I continued to call and he continued to howl, liquid started running from within the long-defunct truck. I could tell that Mack was there and distressed. I went back to the house since I was really cold by this point. I called Scott, explained that I suspected Mack had been caught by the fan belt of the car. Augusta went out after him. I went back out, sent Augusta back into the house and opened up the old truck of the neighbors. No sign of a hood release on the inside, so I went and opened from the front. The noise of me opening the hood flushed Mack back to our house and Augusta hollered that he had come back in the cat hatch.

From the earlier mess in my room, my door was shut and Mack sought a place to hide under the kids' bunks. I couldn't see any blood but his eyes were hugely dilated. I was able to reach under and scruff him. He's a big cat and scruffing is never ideal, but he didn't resist. I was able to get a good look at him. No blood running but a lot of bare flesh, big chunks of his velvety black and white coat missing. I carried him to the old cat's laundry room cherry box. He snuggled right in and I called the vet. Even though the vet was in the midst of pulling a calf, I was told to bring him in. I called a friend for a ride and we took Mack over, in the cherry box, with a laundry basket on top, covered with a fleece blanket decorated in ballet slippers. I put him in the kennel, with blanket tucked around him. He promptly exited the box and put his face to the corner of the kennel and peeked out from the blanket's side.

He'll spend the night at the vet. He has had some pain medication and he'll be x-rayed if doesn't appear to use the injured leg by tomorrow. He's the smart cat of our bunch and I know he was just looking for warmth, but I am just dumbfounded that he would crawl up into something like the car. He's never been one to get under things, such as the bedding. He has always been cautious to the point of being fearful. He could have come in the cat hatch at any time, so why he thought a car was a better option than our house, I just don't know. I know I should be glad he's alive, but I'm just sick over this. I just hope I have good news to add tomorrow, that he's not broken. It's going to be a long, painful recovery for him.

To You and Yours...

2010-12-30T10:37:00.000-07:00

Bots and Brats About

2010-12-01T09:00:00.001-07:00

If you have received an email from my address trying to sell you something or encourage you to do something that is ridiculous, please know that my 'old' gmail address was picked up somewhere by some bot or brat. I was going to cancel this account, but the only responses I get are from auto-response/out-of-office replies. I live in a Mac dominion so do know it wasn't from me; I am a real person with a real life and not nearly enough time to be a pharmaceutical vendor (but it appears I sell little blue pills rather cheaply!) or trapped in an African country under duress...

On The Subject Of The Coffeehouse

2010-10-14T17:04:00.004-06:00

Hi friends... Just waiting to know if we're going to FINALLY get paid what we're due by the soon-to-be-former proprietors of Parlor News. Since we sold it, there has been a lot of disappointment, broken promises and insincere dealings with this business that Scott and I designed and built from the ground up in 1996 for the community of Powell. I don't think that the community wants to be without a coffee house, but we won't be taking the helm to rebuild the business anytime soon. Thanks to all the generous contributions made by those that wanted to see us back there and tried to make it a reality. We'll be returning your contributions for our acquisition effort to you via Paypal very soon. We've been true to the spirit of keeping a coffee house in Powell and thank you for all the words of encouragement these past many months. Know that those of you that talked to us about what was important to you did not fall on deaf ears. We worked diligently with a good attorney to get through the obstacles that were put in front of us to reclaim the property when we were defaulted upon and hope that we won't be dealt with dishonestly yet again. Your kindnesses and advocacy will not be forgotten and I look forward to closing this chapter of our lives and moving along to happier times. As with any small business, customer dedication is something to be EARNED and not ever to be mistreated or taken for granted. The very same can be said for trust in business dealings. We certainly never took our customers for granted and always knew they were our first priority; when priorities shift, unhappiness is bound to surface. We just hope you know how appreciated you were when you came to see us at the coffee house. Here is to the hope that there will happiness for the aficionado of fine coffee and a community meeting place once again.

A special thanks to Cathy that started the Facebook group and has provided wonderful advisement and a great ear to listen. She'll probably remove the group soon, so don't be surprised when it's gone. Thanks to so many and we'll keep you posted on our next adventures...

Justine

For our friend...

2010-09-27T17:58:00.001-06:00

A very special soul came into our lives over a decade ago. When I first moved here, I became acquainted with her while I was substitute teaching at the Middle School. She is always pleasant, supportive and professional and it was an early joy for me to get to know her there. When Scott and I went into business, we were lucky to have her as a good customer. We appreciated her support and the early morning chats as she was on her way to school. When Augusta arrived into our lives, she provided her with the kind gift of a book, Come Along Daisy, that has given us hours of joy as we read it to her. About 8 years ago, she also became part of our spiritual life as part of the family of St. John's. Her inner peace, her dedication and her strength have provided us with a living and breathing example of the many facets of joy. Now, as we think of her every day, I can only hope she will know the joy will continue to accompany us as Augusta now reads the book to Charlie.

Joy continues to illuminate and warm us and for that we will be forever grateful to you. Thank you for sharing your joy and your example with us, good friend.

With our love to you and your dear ones,

Augusta, Charlie, Scott and Justine

Rocking Moose

2010-09-07T19:41:00.001-06:00

Rocking Moose
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

It doesn't make noise, light up, play annoying music or need a litterbox/bark collar.

It has a rope tail and sturdy antlers.

This moose is in need of a new home because its kids have grown up and are now neglecting it.

Call me if you want to schedule a visit to see if this is the moose for you.

Mowing with Charlie

2010-07-07T22:43:00.002-06:00

Mowing with Charlie from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Charlie Sparkler

2010-07-04T20:40:00.000-06:00

Charlie was given his first sparkler today and it was recorded on a new iPhone by Chris, visiting from California.

2010 March of Dimes' March for Babies

2010-05-08T21:15:00.002-06:00

Justine Augusta MOD 2010
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

It's almost that time of year again for the Powell March for Babies. Visit our personal page to help us meet our goal of getting all our friends to contribute at least 8 dollar in celebration of Augusta's 8th birthday!

Lift Off

2010-04-13T16:32:00.001-06:00

Lift Off
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

When you're little, you really can fly...

Gardening On The Avenues*

2010-03-25T15:21:00.012-06:00

Box Garden By SherBeari
Originally uploaded by sherbeari

After months of setting them aside, diligently as each arrived in the mailbox, I have finally given way. The urge to get other, more crucial things done has abated. I've resigned myself to be perpetually behind on the cleaning, the tax prep, the studying; for a few precious hours I have to do an about face from the “what I should do today” mindset to what little legal, though questionable, pleasure I'll allow myself for a few warming hours this afternoon.

Bring on the stack of garden catalogs!

I do this to myself every year. I set aside those that arrive in the depth of winter, after the holidays are past but a planting spring is still a long, long time away. Gurney's, High Country Gardens, Seed Savers, Gardens Alive! I go online and look at a few more, request a catalog when I'm feeling especially hopeful and yard sassy. I look, imagine, calculate, retrench, calculate some more and, just when I think I'll send that order off I have less spine than a garden-variety slug.

I don't know why I do it to myself. After fifteen years trying to grow a lush, productive garden in this climate one would think I'd learned a few lessons. I think it is those lessons that sit on my shoulder, less the angel/devil of the conscience but more the Doubting Thomas. “Are you sure you want to order that? It says Zone 3 but truthfully probably isn't. It most definitely won't be with a garden hack like you. That hydrangea won't see July” Nag, nag, nag... but Doubting Thomas of the Avenues is probably right. So I listen and tear up the order blank that was full of my imagined hues of red and purple and pale yellow. I resign myself to numerous visits to local greenhouses that proves far more rewarding than only getting packets of seeds in the mail. Doubting Thomas still rides along, but I'm able to tell him to pipe down a little more easily when I'm eye to eye with that gallon size Big Boy plant that is pulsing with bacon, lettuce, and tomato potential.

With life being nothing more than a series of lessons, I embarked on a new gardening method last year and I believe it's going to stick. Previously, I had mixed in my vegetable plants with perennials around the yard and found last year to be my limit of that. I have some very sunny spots along the back of my house that seemed to be the right place for tomatoes, tomatillos and assorted peppers, but the mountain bluet and the Persian coneflower had other ideas and crowed out the edibles. I did get a few tomatoes, but the soil was too low in calcium and I had to trim away more than a few bottoms in making up the batches of backyard salsa. Along our boulevard my husband constructed two raised beds for our first try at the practice of square foot gardening. We visited the website SquareFootGardening.com and noted the basic principles. We raided the garage for untreated wood and used up what I'd been stubbing my toes on for years in building the boxes. We had a good supply of compost from a castoff compost bin, bought very little in the way of potting soil, making a useful home for the ripped open bags that no one else seemed to want, and we were off to the food growing races. We planted seeds that we had on hand, many for years, and set to work planting in the warm, dark soil.

It was an important time for our daughter, just 7, to see what effort we went to in planting the boxes. We had good talks about where food comes from, the importance of taking care of what we hoped to eat, the encouragement to not throw the dog's tennis ball into the center of the boxes, and the best use of water. We wrote down what was planted where, talked some more about watering, reminded her little brother that we were growing delicious vegetables for the dinner table and waited. She had been particularly excited to plant her own packet of flowers in her own square. She checked daily, waiting for the emergence of the seedlings. Up came the radishes that I had over planted, the turnips, the beans, the mixed up assortment of lettuce and even the wisps of new carrots – but no flowers. We watered more, I explained all the reasons I could come up with as to why the lovingly-tended seeds were not cooperating. Finally and well into June, on an excursion across town, I made a quick dash into the greenhouse at the Co-op and found a six-pack of Dianthus. With over three hundred species of that plant documented and a reputation for hardyness, I figured at least these six could survive a summer on the maiden voyage of our over-loved boxes. I planted under the cover of dusk and waited a couple of days before I called my daughter with an exuberant “LOOK! Your flowers are blooming!” to see a look of joy on her pink cheeks with no sign of her understanding of the gardening deception perpetrated by her germination-challenged mother. She cared for them throughout the summer and took great pride in their growth and color over the picket fence.

As this spring makes its tentative approach, the challenges of past years becomes part of garden amnesia and the soil in my corner of the world is full of promise renewed. The raspberries will continue to produce and bring us jars of jam, I'll remember to net the grapes in the hopes that we won't lose every grape cluster to some opportunist of the animal or insect kingdom like last year, I'll again look into acquiring a cider press, to expand our enjoyment of the local apple abundance, make more delicious plum jam with the help of a neighbor's prolific tree and dream of my garden boxes' palatable potential. If I have my way, my yard will have less grass to mow and a multitude of boxes with bountiful salad makings. Come September, if you have more peppers than persistence, give me a call and I'll make sure they have a glorious home in a jar of heirloom salsa. Now, if I could just get a nice little goat that I could name Fido to take care of the lawn maintenance and retire our limping-along lawnmower, I would be in home farming paradise.

*Originally published in The Powell Tribune special section "From The Barnyard To The Backyard" on March 25, 2010

Itty Bitty Boy

2010-03-22T21:33:00.001-06:00

Photo 285
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

I know late night worry sessions. I've had a couple of episodes this year with Charlie, who is on the itty bitty side, where bigger boys went after him, he lashed out and, after the fact, I found out he was standing up for himself. I've tried to teach him a combo of things with these episodes: if he needs help, he needs to go get a grown up and if it is too much he needs to walk away, move away, find a place where he feels safe and not resort to lashing out. After reading a report from preschool, that seems to be opposite of what they want to see. They talk about him not interacting enough with his peers, moving off and playing independently and, according to them, "shutting down" when things become too raucous. But, he's also singing along to John Doe lyrics, reading over my shoulder while I'm on the computer, using Google to search "thomas" and "veggie tales" (and getting a little irritated that Thomas Jefferson keeps popping up on the screen), and carrying around the old cat in adoration (and the cat's irritation). He is who he is; I get frustrated, he gets frustrated but at the end of the day he climbs onto my lap, hugs me and tells me he loves me. And, I can't but help loving him from start to finish. If he is exotic-chaotic-and-a-little-neurotic to others, so be it.

Little Boy on Skis

2010-01-17T12:13:00.001-07:00

Charlie had his first visit to Sleeping Giant on skis....

Charlie at Sleeping Giant from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Thoughts South

2010-01-14T21:45:00.002-07:00

It's been nearly impossible the last few days to not think of the natural and human devastation in Haiti. I don't know a soul there, but I know those souls surviving the terrible quake are suffering.

There are many ways to help, and hope...

Cleaning Out The Cupboards

2010-01-06T16:12:00.005-07:00

I ended a day spent tidying up with a recipe to match. I used all the partial packages of dark chocolate, semi-sweet and butterscotch chips from holiday baking with some of the "gonna lose that 2009 weight with healthy breakfasts" oatmeal and came up with this:

Cleaning Out The Cupboards Cookies

1 1/2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 stick (1/2 cup) butter, softened
1 stick (1/2 cup) mrgarine
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
3/4 cup peanut butter
2 large eggs
a 12-ounce bag semisweet chocolate chips or a mish-mosh of what chips are around the shelves of the pantry and refrigerator. Toss in some nuts, if you're so inclined.

In a food processor pulse 1 cup oats until ground fine. In a large bowl stir together ground oats, remaining 1/2 cup whole oats, flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

In another large bowl with an electric mixer beat together butter and sugars until light and fluffy and beat in vanilla and peanut butter. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition, and gradually beat in flour mixture. Add chips and nuts, beating just until combined. Chill cookie dough, covered, at least 2 hours and up to 1 week. Do your best not to eat it by spoonfuls.

Preheat oven to 325°F.

Form rounded tablespoons of dough into balls and arrange about 2 inches apart on ungreased baking sheets.

Eat with restraint... Or not.

The Holiday Parade

2009-12-30T20:57:00.001-07:00

It's not the holidays without a few embarrassing moments. Here's to a good 2010...

The Holiday Parade from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Starting With A Kiss

2009-12-16T10:43:00.002-07:00

It's been a busy and disorganized time lately, but I'm trying to get back on track. I guess I'll start my day with a kiss...

Good Morning Kisses from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Every Man...

2009-10-30T20:25:00.001-06:00

Halloween
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

... really, really, REALLY needs a dog in a tutu...

A Visitor From The Cabbage Patch

2009-09-30T19:00:00.000-06:00

I didn't grow this behemoth, but I now possess it.

I think it may need its own bedroom. Or zip code.

I wonder how much coleslaw and sauerkraut this might make?

Charlie came from the cabbage patch, so maybe he is thinking back a little.

A wise friend from the north suggested that I'd better check for another baby in those leaves. Wonder if it's twins?

Sunday Sunday Sunday

2009-09-13T21:51:00.001-06:00

Here is what I did today...

Woke up, gasping for a breath after dreaming of walking out of a store with arms full of stolen chocolate bars
Skipped church
Drank coffee
Lamented last month's paycheck
Thought about the job search
Made ham salad
Watched an hour of Remains of the Day on Netflix Instant
Consolidated the recycling to be taken to the center tomorrow
Cleaned out the station wagon
Put outgrow clothes and shoes in the wagon to go to the Thrift Store
Washed out jars for canning
Roasted peppers
Canned salsa
Had three children and their mom drop in for a wild rumpus
Made ice tea
Talked politics and pie making
Chopped apples
Heated supper
Used extra Rooster sauce on my plate of Korean chicken and steamed rice
Canned cooked applesauce, though a little thin it will be fine for cakes and pork chops
Picked raspberries
Had a nice conversation with a pollinating honey bee
Put away clean laundry, washed more dirty laundry
Finished the fourth load of dishes in the washer
Inventoried canned goods
Scrubbed the princess makeup off the little girl's face
Read Robyn Hitchcock's online biography
Ordered two Robyn Hitchcock movies on Netflix
Carried around dust cloths in my pocket all day and never dusted anything
Told the congestion living in my head that it either needs to move out or begin paying rent
Took allergy meds, wrote this list, grabbed the new copy of Vanity Fair, and headed for bed...

Thanks, Dr. Robert...

2009-09-09T10:42:00.000-06:00

A Visit With Some Nice Cats

2009-09-04T07:25:00.000-06:00

Traveling From Powell To Provence In Ten Minutes

2009-09-02T15:32:00.003-06:00

Sometimes I need to take an excursion, if only a mental one.

This morning I made a 10 minute drive away from Powell and mentally transported myself to the Provence of Vincent Van Gogh. I pulled off to the side of Lane 11 and did my best to paint a digital picture of a Provençal landscape under the rising sun over the Powell Flat.

Charlie and Chester stayed in the truck.

When I climbed back in the truck, Charlie said "Mom, the flowers are so TALL.
They are so B E A U T I F U L..."

He's right...

FIrst Day of School

2009-08-24T22:03:00.003-06:00

Augusta, ready for school in handmade and thrift store chic: a leopard vest made by Fairy Godmother Martha, a skirt from her friend Wyatt's mother (vintage 1970s), a new shirt from the Merc that was all of $4, and red Chuck Taylors passed along from her friend, Henry. It was all topped off with a red backpack purchased 2 years ago and her Tinkerbell raincoat from last Easter.

Last Day At The Froggy Pond

2009-08-23T18:02:00.005-06:00

Today was the final day of the Froggy Pond for the 2009 summer season.

Charlie and Augusta had the entire pool to themselves.

School starts tomorrow!

An Open Letter To the Freeloaders In My Yard

2009-08-21T14:35:00.006-06:00

Okay, I've had it. I've reached my limit with you. All of you. You are all a disappointment to me. Yes, I'm talking to you over there and there and there, too. I've given you lots of care the last few months; lots of water, high dollar food, plenty of support -- but it just hasn't been good enough for you. I've shared my nurturing goodness with you. I've included you in conversations. I've provide you attention when my own children have been left to run amok in the neighborhood. I just don't know what else to do for you. I'm at the end of my attention span. I can't provide you anymore love or dedication or money to support you. I'm cutting you off. No more water, no more electricity, no more rescuing you from that which pesters you.

You have all been a bunch of ungrateful, unproductive and underachieving... TOMATOES.

I brought you to my home from all different origins. A few of you were pricey and quite a few of you were, okay I'll admit it, cheap. But, I would have thought, with all the attention I gave you in the way of water and Alaska fish emulsion, you could have done SOMETHING more productive with your summer. The few of you that have even bothered to ripen have let yourselves go, with mushy and rotting bottoms and less than stellar character. You green ones are dotted with spots where you have been nibbled on by others. Really, what more did you want from me? What could I have done to benefit you? To nurture you? To encourage you? Some of you have even had music played for you and, still, that wasn't enough.

So, I give up. I concede. Go about, unimpeded, with your underachieving ways. I may have plans for a green salsa but, considering the lame production of your compatriots, the peppers, I may have to beg and plead elsewhere for enough ingredients for even one batch for the cupboard. I will tell you this, though; I'm done with you for this year. No more water, no more fish stink, and I may just give you an express ticket to the compost bin. Hasta la vista, baby!

Fireants To Play In Powell

2009-08-20T13:00:00.000-06:00

Untitled from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Mulling

2009-08-10T21:43:00.001-06:00

Here's a little exercise that I've come up with, that I've been mulling around in my way-to-full brain today. The summer is fleeting and cold and flu season is around the corner so it's as good a time as any to think about things like getting sick and getting well. There is a lot of talk swirling about health care reform and even more yelling. Now, stop for a second. Take a deep breath. Don't let that blood pressure go up. We're just talking here. Thinking.
M u l l i n g.

Here's what I'd like you to do. Think of 5 things that you LIKE about your health coverage ... if you HAVE health coverage. Think about what you pay. Think about those aspects of the coverage that you use. Think about how happy you are to submit a claim, especially when the medical service or practice won't submit it for you, or when you have to call your insurance company. Think about the advocacy they provide for you, especially if you have a concern about what may or may not be covered by your policy. Think about how easy it is to come up with that high deductible each year or, if you have a low deductible, focus on that. Now, list those 5 things. This is a personal exercise. Don't tell me something that you heard from someone else that was quoting, directly or indirectly from a television program or a thrice-circulated email from your elderly uncle who is "mad as hell and not going to take it anymore!" Think of only YOUR experience. Don't think of your child's experience. Don't think of your parents'. Think ONLY of YOUR experience. Set aside the "what ifs" and focus on your individual likes of your insurance coverage situation. Got your five in mind?

Now, think about what you don't like about your insurance scenario. Can you list 5 things? Can you think of MORE than 5 things. List them. Think again, only, of what has happened to you. Not to your children. Don't think about the percentage of uninsured children in this country, many of whom will lose their coverage as their parents lose or have lost jobs recently. Don't think about freezing of enrollment in the S-Chip programs. Only reflect on your situation. Don't think of individuals showing up at town hall meeting with Congressional Representatives that are hollering "I don't want the government in MY Medicare!" Don't think of the screaming about what-ifs that are leading to fisticuffs. Just focus on yourself. How many dislikes did you list?

Here comes the answers from my list. For the first list I have no answer. I am uninsured. I work. My husband works. I can't buy insurance. I also don't go to the doctor. The last time I was seen, while insured, it was for a serious cat bite that when all was said and done and I was able to keep my thumb, but I was out close to $4000 without any surgery. I'm still paying for that. In my household, in 7 years, we have had to meet at least a $5000 deductible 4 times, with the first year being a $6000 deductible. These weren't services we could have put off for a more lucrative time in our lives; one severely premature baby, a 3 day hospitalization for pneumonia, one pastorella and staph infection of the hand, a hysterectomy and an appendectomy. I've been seen at our local volunteer medical clinic for a weird ear thing more than a year ago and have just learned to live with it because I can not afford additional diagnostics. I was, thankfully, qualified for a funded program to receive an annual mammogram for what I would have checked otherwise after finding a lump under my arm. The directive stands in my home, where I am the one without coverage, that unless I am unconscious or bleeding profusely, I'll just have to tough it out because I can't go to the doctor and I especially can't go to the ER.

Here is my second list's 5 answers. I'll only put 5 even though I could come up with many more showing what I don't like about the experiences (mostly insurance-related) I've had over the last few years.
I don't like that it took 6 doctors in 5 years to diagnose the infertility issues I was having. Doctor #2 actually diagnosed me as infertile after I didn't conceive after two rounds of clomid (industry standard), no imaging and no further testing. That diagnosis gave the insurance their out. They said they did not allow diagnostic charges so instead of my $5000 deductible being credited with the over $10,000 in charges, it was all out of pocket and took care of the mutual fund.
I don't like that I was overdosed with morphine after surgery and wound up in intensive care. I'd never been injured or had surgery that required post-op i.v. pain management. Of course, that overdose had nothing to do with the insurance but the next year I spent fighting with Mutual of Omaha over their denial of the claim for my time in ICU I'd sure like to have back. They said that the 18 hours I spent in ICU was billed at too high beyond their "usual and customary charges." That fight was still unresolved when I had to meet the the chief financial officer of St. Vincent's as my newborn premature baby was in ICU. A social worker in the hospital's employ that was in the ICU, when I told her of the situation, stopped me mid-sentence and picked up the phone to call for an appointment to get me in to see him. She said "you can't expect to have this baby thrive if you have this hanging over your head. This baby needs to be your first priority" and she was absolutely right. The CFO, after my explanation of the efforts I'd made in good faith to get the insurance company and hospital to TALK TO EACH OTHER instead of yelling at me, wrote off the charges. Mutual of Omaha stopped doing business in Wyoming shortly after that.
I don't like that the coverage I had changed while I was expecting baby number two. Due to that change I was not able to deliver him at St. Vincent's. I was told by the insurance company that I could "have" the baby at St. Vincent's but they wouldn't pay hospitalization. I asked what would happen in the eventuality that my baby needed Level III Neonatal Intensive Care, only available at St. Vincent's and not at Deaconess. I was told, though I could not be guaranteed by just the phone call, that the baby would be transferred to the other hospital. The baby, but probably not me. I had a scheduled c-section at Deaconess Billings clinic, performed by my great ob/gyn. He did me a total favor by delivering my son there just to have my insurance cover it. Then this next episode happened.
I don't like that my doctor was told, 45 minutes after I was out of surgery at Deaconess, that even though I had been overdosed with intravenous morphine in a surgery previously and would require fentanyl (all recorded and ordered ahead of time) that Deaconess " didn't have protocol for that drug" so they just weren't going to use it. Imagine having a c-section and having a spinal block wearing off and nothing to follow it up for pain relief. A large belly incision and nothing to stop the throbbing reminder of that incision. Mull that over.
I also don't like that I was charged for my son being circumcised. He wasn't. When I called the hospital billing department to direct their attention to this unnecessary charge, I was told they would have to request notes from the pediatrician to confirm my complaint. I asked "do you not BELIEVE me when I tell you that he was NOT CIRCUMCISED? Do you want me to take a picture and SEND it to you as proof.?" As far as I know, the charge for circumcision stood.
I'll stop at 5 though I have a number of other dislikes of how health insurance coverage, when I had it, and billing fiascoes have played out in my personal experience. What this tells me, again, based on MY OWN EXPERIENCE, is that change has to happen. The way it is working, or more accurately NOT WORKING, must be addressed. The plan for reform that is being offered may not be the best or the most brilliant or fail safe, but it's the only idea being floated right now. If I was hearing from those yelling from the backs of town hall meetings of another idea, I'd certainly like to know their specifics. The truth is, I'm not hearing that. Am I hearing that the health insurance system currently in place is perfect for everyone else except me? If that's the case, then I'll just pipe down and take my multivitamin.

So, again I ask you to write your list. Now, take your list to your Congressional Representative's office and tell them that you'd like the coverage they have. If they aren't willing to share, get them willing to legislate some changes that will make a difference for you and, hopefully, for me. In the meantime, I'll do my best to not get sick. Or injured. Or any more discouraged.

Psychopoodle Update

2009-07-28T16:33:00.003-06:00

The Psychopoodle had another x-ray and, though not 100% in the right hip, he's pretty solid. Our vet doesn't feel that surgery is warranted or that he'll be taping Chester up the left side after all. Lyle said that he's amazed that Chester can walk at all, but he's walking pretty well. Yes, this x-ray doesn't look ideal, but it is much improved from where he was on June 2. His range of motion is good, he's getting around well and was REALLY GLAD to come home from the vet. Today, Chester was able to go to tennis lessons with Augusta, have a brief squirrel chase in the front yard and a ride around town in the car. He's tired, a little sore, but relatively content.

Fairly Good Fair...

2009-07-26T20:46:00.002-06:00

The Park County Fair is done for another year. Augusta and I went to fetch our entries this afternoon. Augusta won red ribbons (second premium) for her poppies and a jar of strawberry peach ginger jam she made.

I won a few ribbons this year, with far fewer entries. Both Scott and I were unable to make the deadline to enter photographs this year, with traveling the two weekends to the prior to the drop-off date. As a result, this was the year for food, veg and fruit. Here's the list of ribbon winners:

Grand Champion - cucumber dill pickles with onion and garlic
Reserve Grand Champion - chokecherry jelly

First Premiums
plum jam
pears in light syrup
sweet pepper pasta sauce
peach jam
chokecherry jelly
cucumber dill pickles with onion and garlic
blueberry walnut coffeecake
English toffee

Second Premiums
applesauce
raspberry jam
fig apple chutney
apple butter
salsa
pineapple salsa
pear topping
red raspberries
turnips
choke cherries

Third Premiums
cucumber bread and butter pickles
pear cranberry orange sauce
sweet peppers
red currants
coconut pecan fig bars
light wheat bread

I just hope I can come across half as much free and interesting food as I did this past year. Augusta has already asked me what she can make so she can win a blue ribbon. Suggestions?

Words of Advice

2009-07-25T09:19:00.003-06:00

File Under Things NOT To Do For Your Kids

2009-07-23T20:34:00.005-06:00

Today was Kids' Day Races at the Park County Fair. Both Charlie and Augusta took part, to their monetary benefit. Charlie, the C H A M P I O N of running off from Mom and Dad, won a dollar bill for the 0 -4 year old dash. Augusta won an assortment of quarters and fifty-cent pieces for her efforts. "It's just like what the Tooth Fairy brought me!"

THEN came the mom and dad dashes. "Mommie! Will you run?" says Augusta. I'm in shorts, tank, decent bra and Keens. "Sure" says the stupid, forty-year old me. "I hope I don't fall..."

On your marks, get set, GO! > > > > > > > > CRASH! Skid.... ouch.

"It was the shoes. I know I'm clumsy, but the damn shoes helped!"

Bloody knees, bashed hip and grass rash to boot.

Scott's turn. He's wearing Keens, too.

Guess what? Lather, rinse, repeat...

Our children, scarred for life by two parents with the Scandinavian klutz gene AND deadly shoes.
Me? Just scarred.

As Scott said "good thing we weren't running from a bear..."
Or a mountain lion.
Or a ticked-off moose...

So, to recap...
• Charlie and Augusta, about three bucks richer from their running.
• Justine, two big band-aids from the EMTs' first aid wagon.
• Scott, believing me the next time when I say "it was the shoes!" Like there'll be a next time...

Think I should write Keen about their $90 death rides?

Summer and Its Involvements

2009-07-20T10:25:00.002-06:00

I was thinking it might actually be a low-key summer this year. We'd planned to stay a little closer to home, not take an official vacation and just go a couple of places as weekends allowed. I was working quite a bit a the outset, but now things have slowed. I'm trying to build the video business and it is progressing. But, now, I find myself asking "where did the summer go?" It's been cyclone-like since July began; a wedding in the mountains above Buffalo over the weekend of the Fourth, the National Folk Festival in Butte, the Yellowstone Jazz Festival in Cody and a dash to Red Lodge for pizza and an unintentional look at all the motorcycles that descend there on that particular weekend. Today is the turn-in day for Park County Fair entries, so we're off to do that shortly. Augusta is entering her first items in the Fair with a jar of Strawberry Peach jam and some poppies she grew from seed...

So, for now, Monday is all about getting stuff to the Fair. Maybe there will be a visit to the Froggy Pond later...

National Folk Festival in Butte, Montana

2009-07-13T10:00:00.000-06:00

July 10 - 12 found us in Butte, Montana, for the National Folk Festival. Again, it was great to see what we did, but there was not enough time to see it all...

71st National Folk Festival from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

A Visit With Thomas

2009-07-10T13:00:00.000-06:00

On our way to the National Folk Festival, we made a stop at the Billings Depot on Montana Avenue to see Thomas the Tank Engine...

Augusta & Charlie Visit Thomas from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Quite A Pair of Rum Runners

2009-07-05T11:43:00.000-06:00

Another fantastic photo shot by Mike Carroll. He certainly knows trouble when he sees it...

A Little Princess In A Field

2009-07-04T18:00:00.000-06:00

Our friend Mike Carroll took this picture of Augusta in a meadow near Buffalo during the wedding our our friends Anna and Kevin. The tiara was a loan from Jen...

On The Way Over The Big Mountains

2009-07-03T11:00:00.005-06:00

*
We stopped at the Medicine Wheel on our way across the Bighorn Mountains to Buffalo. It was the Psychopoodle's first trip post accident.
*

Little did we know that by the end of the hike, we'd be soaked to the skin. It was the Medicine Wheel spa experience: exfoliation by hail, hydration by downpour, comb out by pine tree and mud pack on the hike down. Buy one, get six free!
*
I do believe the three moose were just an extra bonus for the adventure-filled afternoon...

*Photos by SherBeari

Psychopoodle Recuperation Fund

2009-06-04T19:00:00.000-06:00

Psychopoodle Recuperation

2009-06-04T15:11:00.001-06:00

A Bad Few Days In PsychopoodleLand

2009-06-02T15:58:00.004-06:00

I'm just going to consolidate the latest of travails of Chester, the Psychopoodle.

On Sunday, Charlie walked Chester across the street to our neighbors' where he destroyed 8 goslings headed for their farm. It was a harsh lesson for the boy and his dog and a lot of crying all around.

Last night, upon arriving back at home from a visit to the grandparents, Chester evaporated. Aunt Laurie called at 9:30 pm to tell us that she'd heard a commotion outside her home 4 blocks away and went out to find Chester hit and flung, probably by a truck that hadn't bothered to stop. Lyle, our wonderful vet, was called and consulted. In hindsight, we should have taken him right in but we stayed up with him until close to 2 am. Scott stayed on the couch for the duration of the night and took him in to the clinic first thing this morning. Lyle x-rayed and did his best to reposition the badly broken pelvis, but is worried the sharp points could puncture the bowel. Lyle said he's not seen a break this bad before and still see the animal move. Chester has pulled himself up to move a few times and is still wagging his tail. He is crying a lot, but has not barked since last night.

I have brought him home. Lyle showed me how to lift him, using a sling. He is on Novox and anti-inflammatory injection. On the way to pick him up I stopped at the fabric store and bought a thick piece of foam wrapped in quilt batting that is now in a zipped dog pillow case. I stopped at the coffee shop and Karen followed me to the vet's to help bring him home. Augusta rode in the back of the station wagon and cradled his pin-head to keep him still. I have him sequestered in the laundry room, with the old Pink cat sleeping above him in his old-fogey basket. There is a lot of whimpering, but I have to keep him still as much as possible. Scott will call Lyle and get his recommendation. It may happen that we will need to take him to Billings for surgery. Of course, this all couldn't come at a worse time -- emotionally or financially.

This all may be a case of quick-acting goose karma. Or the squirrels of the neighborhood organized with the fowl survivors to put out an almost-successful hit. As you can tell, I have all sorts of theories. Fortunately for us, the neighbors are extremely good natured and they, like me, have an iron-clad alibi for last night at 9:30. Charlie did have to go over and apologize this morning for leading Chester over there that resulted in the carnage. I think many impressions have been made in just a couple of days.

Charlie and Augusta have both drawn pictures for Chester. He stood a few minutes ago, so I took him out in an effort to get him to pee away some more of the anesthetic, but no luck. I've also moved him out to the kitchen, in front of the stove and the whining has ceased. We are doing our best to keep a quite house for him. This damn dog...

Charlie Flu

2009-04-30T18:26:00.001-06:00

Charlie Flu
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

Unfortunately, we are in the throes of the garden-variety-not-Swine-but-maybe-Psychopoodle influenza. I took Charlie to the walk-in clinic yesterday where he fell asleep on the exam table. The doctor was leaning over to look in his ear (left, on the verge of infection) when Charlie blasted him with a big S N E E Z E, right in the face. I think I said something along the lines of "See? I think he has something..."

Now, I don't know who's more pitiful... the kid or the Psychopoodle.

Mind the Gap!

2009-04-27T15:53:00.002-06:00

Mind the Gap 3
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

I guess we will be expecting a visit from Mary the Tooth Fairy soon. Did YOU know that the Tooth Fairy's first name was Mary? We didn't, either, until Charlie told us yesterday.

Augusta shed her second front tooth at school today. No front teeth will make eating birthday cake pretty interesting next month. Birthday smoothie, anyone?

Long Winter .... Red Wall

2009-04-22T15:24:00.003-06:00

It's been a long winter. A > > > R E A L L Y long winter. This was my fifteenth winter in Wyoming and it's physically and psychologically worn me thin, both literally and figuratively. I've lost some weight, not really intending to but happy that it happened. I have been holding off buying any new clothing that fits me somewhat better. Once shorts season is here I won't care that my pants are dragging on the hem because they no long fit around my waist. I'm at the end, nearly, of April and I'm only in my second day of wearing shorts. I want to work in the yard, shake away the winter blahs, but now I hear that there may be snow again tomorrow. Bleh...

Otherwise, I'm about trying to finish up/use up/polish up a few things in my little world. I went rooting around in the cupboards the day before yesterday and found some paint. It's paint I purchased BEFORE Charlie was born. It's red. Ruby Slippers is the name assigned and I don't know if I bought it for the name or the color. Regardless, it was time for some heroic shaking of the quart, to put into service my favorite paint brush that I purchased 2 years ago, dampen some paper towels and ready an empty egg carton. I brushed and mini-roller'd my way to a red kitchen wall. And, it is R*E*D and goes right along with the red battleship linoleum floor from 1959 that we still are walking on each and everyday. All in all, an inexpensive project to drag out my home engineer persona and shake up a little room that I spend a lot of time in each day. Better red than dead!

So, when you come to visit, be ready to pose for a picture in front of the red wall...

After The Fit

2009-04-12T20:58:00.001-06:00

After The Fit
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

There is such a thing as too much chocolate...

Easter Treat

2009-04-11T17:07:00.003-06:00

We took the little ones to the annual Elks' Easter Egg Scramble at the Fairgrounds. A huge mob of people came out on a nice spring day and we had a lucky little girl take home a nice Easter basket. Thanks to the Powell Elks for putting on this great and generous event.

Bouncing Boy

2009-04-04T17:11:00.001-06:00

Bouncing Boy from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Crabby Cook

2009-03-23T18:17:00.001-06:00

Crabby Cakes from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Here Comes The Sun

2009-03-14T20:52:00.002-06:00

After what has seemed like an exxxxxx-tended winter, a warm sun filled the back yard. I discovered the trampoline that we gave Charlie for his fourth birthday also makes a delightful backyard nap pad. It wasn't long before a certain little princess joined me for a sunshine snuggle...

News

2009-02-26T20:06:00.001-07:00

I just can't take it anymore.

I can't bear to watch the news. I've prided myself on being an aware person. I've always enjoyed the routine of the daily newscast. Since moving to Wyoming, I've awakened to the NPR broadcast each morning. As I rolled around town, I'd listen for the top of the hour id. That routine provided a dual purpose that stemmed from my college radio station days; I could tell the time and catch the latest news from around the U.S. I'd turn on the national broadcast and could often catch both CBS and NBC broadcast due to a half hour stagger on the schedule. I would often be up until the 10 pm local broadcast from the big city across the border to the north and would marvel at the rotating door of just-out-of-college broadcast journalism newbies that would be honing their newly graduated skills. I would often flip the channel to the PBS station and catch the BBC broadcast if the local news wasn't exciting enough. Over the last eight years I would steel myself in preparation for the language gaffe that was regularly broadcast by the last Chief Executive. I know those days are over and I'm grateful. But...

But I just can't watch the news right now. I find myself going through my daily online routine... Salon.com, The New York Times, The Los Angeles Times, SF Gate and I just have to stop. Much like the Rocky Mountain News, which ceases publication after this Friday, I'm out of business. I just can't do it right now. I'm depressed and the news is even more depressing than I am. I don't have a mutual fund, a 401K, or anything beyond a pile of bills and an inconsistent work situation. I do have a corner lot with a little house that has family in it, a college education, some volition... but now I'm wondering if that is enough.

And, according to the news... it's not. So, I'm clicking off for a while. Call me an ostrich, that's fine. I would say "bawk... bawk" but I'm not sure what sound a ostrich even makes. I still have faith. I still have hope. But I just need a little distance.

Lenten Concert Series 2009

2009-02-22T14:05:00.001-07:00

Blindfolded Cookery

2009-02-21T10:37:00.004-07:00

I don't know what it is about being tired and cold and hungry, but it makes for some interesting lunch.

On today's menu... mystery soup. It was kind of like cooking with a blindfold on, reaching into the 'fridge and turning on the gas.

A couple of days ago I browned a package of sirloin tips with garlic, diced red pepper and a little olive oil. I would have added some onion, but I couldn't remember where I last saw the onion that I bought last week. I put the nice smelling mixture in the crock pot with a cup of turkey stock I'd made and froze a couple of weeks ago and a cup of cooked barley. I found about a cup of browned Italian sausage from Sunday's pizza making and tossed that it as well. I set the whole concoction on low for a few hours and put it in the 'fridge overnight. And then I forgot it.

So, this morning, I was up at 5 to teach and, instead of being hungry at noon, I started feel a might peckish. It's not quite lunch time now but my feet are frozen and I'm even hungrier. Back to the 'fridge I went, grabbing the barley-beef-pepper soup, some beef stock, a can of tomato sauce, a can of Ro*Tel tomatoes and peppers, and what is left of the chicken chimichanga with rice from my birthday dinner last Monday. In the soup pot it has all went and now it is simmering on the stove, awaiting a topping of shredded cheese and crunched tortilla chips.

I'm not sure what exactly to call it because "Unfreeze My Feet Soup" just doesn't roll off the tongue. But, it is quite good and I have enough for company...

Recipe

2009-02-16T18:22:00.003-07:00

As I was trying to take a nap yesterday afternoon I was lamenting that I had no plans for dinner. I guess the wheels in my brain started turning because while listening to BeauSoleil on Prairie Home Companion, I came up with the following recipe.

BeauSoleil Stuffed Prairie Chicken

4 boneless chicken breasts
1/2 cup cottage cheese
1/2 sour cream
1/2 red bell pepper, chopped
1 -2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 cup fresh spinach, julienned
1 glass white wine
1/2 thinly sliced onion
1/2 large sweet potato, grated
2 tablespoons olive oil

Using a meat tenderizer, pound boneless breasts flat as the prairie. Mix next five ingredients. Spread a thin coating of the cream cheese mixture on the chicken breast, roll up breast and place in a baking pan that has been buttered. Lay rolls of chicken breasts side by side in pan. Pour glass of white wine. Pour half over chicken breasts. Season chicken with salt and pepper. Reserve other half of wine for sipping while chicken bakes. Toss onions and sweet potatoes with olive oil. Top chicken with onion & potato mixture. Cover dish and bake in a 375° oven for 40 minutes or until chicken is firm and juices run clear. Remove chicken from oven and allow to sit 5-10 minutes. Lift each rolled & stuffed breast onto the plate and slice to reveal a beautiful sunrise...

40

2009-02-15T22:25:00.005-07:00

So, that day has finally arrived. I knew it would get here. I've tried to decide if I should prepare myself for it, or if I should just ignore it. Normally, I'd give myself plenty of opportunities to fixate, to mull, to obsess. Lately, though, it's been too hectic in my world; children in school, birthday cakes to bake, laundry to fold, and the general day and night routines. I continued to think I would have plenty of time to prepare, to focus my thoughts and get my over-stimulated brain in the right place. But it didn't happen and here came the day with no noticeable preparation.

I'm now 40.

What? When? Well, officially on February 16. How did this happen? I just don't know.

There was a time, and there shouldn't be offense taken by anyone reading this, when I was little that 40 was, well, OLD. It was even older than "grown up" or "mature". I'm not sure where that notion came from, but it may have to do with my family. My father was an "older" father. In reality he was 45 when I was born in 1969. On each of his birthdays, from the time I knew to ask, I'd say "Dad, how old are you now?" His reply would always be "thirty-nine" and I always believed him. I never figured he was a fibber or that his age wasn't what he said it was. Thirty-nine seemed like a reasonable number to me and, though it was older than most of my classmates' fathers, it was just fine by me.

But now, here I am. I am exiting the age that my dad always claimed to be and embarking on a new decade. I'm dragging along my small children and husband along for the ride.

Chock Full of Sweethearts

2009-02-14T20:32:00.000-07:00

Happy Valentine's Day from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

What I've Learned From THIS Four Year Old

2009-02-07T15:22:00.003-07:00

Today, my little Charlie is four.

He was lifted into the world during a record-breaking delivery day in Billings, Montana, during a snowstorm. No one could come to see him in the hospital except for his grandmother, father and mother, due to a Whooping Cough, Influenza and RSV outbreak.

He was nearly three times the size of his sister, being born at 6 pounds, 10 ounces.

He has the names of Scott's father (Charles, though only known as Buzz) and my father's middle name, Ragnvald. We should have immediately started calling him "Rags" or stuck with "Buster". When I ask him if he's still my baby he says "No, I'm CHARLIE".

Since he's had hair, it's been shocking, Billy-Idol-white. Why do boys always get this do when I have to pay for that color?

His Nemo swim trunks are size 12 months. This is the fourth year he's been wearing them.

He now hollers at the barking Psychopoodle "Awwwwww, SHUTH UPpppp" in a perfection imitation of Sylvester.

His patron saints are Goofy, Mickey, and Donald.

He loves his strider bike. He looks for all the bumps to bump da bump de bump.

He had his first visit to the dentist last Wednesday and attempted to abscond with all the equipment. He especially liked the water spouter-thingy.

His willfulness is astounding. I haven't heard him say "my way or the highway" yet, but I know he's thinking it.

He calls his sister "Ta-Ta". She calls him "CharrrrReeee".

He's not a vegetarian. He might be considered a green beantarian, a peanut buttertarian, a sausagetarian, frutarian or a fromagatarian. He also love pistachios.

He can hear the train coming 5 minutes before anyone else can. He also turns down the music when his dad turns it up. I am waiting to see if he can predict earthquakes like his grandfather Jon Justad. I think we may have a sound engineer in our future.

He now can operate his own "geee-mote".

He loves the cats in our house. He seems to be without opinion about the dog when it's not barking.

He wears custom-knitted delights from his grandmother and his friend Zipper.

He has names for all his pants, including Diego, Mickey, Bob the Bilker, Mater and Apple pants.

He used to call his grandmother "PeePaw" but now calls her "Gramma".

He can operate a mouse.

He has made our family complete.

Toffee

2009-02-01T16:18:00.012-07:00

A friend asked me for a recipe today and so I took it as an opportunity to try something new. I put together a recipe card, with a photo of a batch of the toffee that I made this afternoon. I turned the InDesign file into a PDF and then lobbed it back to being a Jpeg so that I could post it here and on Facebook. I then reworked it and just exported it as a Jpeg for upload directly to the blog. All for a dinky little candy recipe...

I'm feeling a little too geeky right now, so I guess I'll go fold some laundry...

Birthday Slippers

2009-01-29T11:33:00.002-07:00

birthday slippers, originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo.

Three out of four people in this house were tired of hearing me complain about my cold feet this week.

These ruby slippers were an early 40th birthday present.

There's no place like home...

Freestyle Sewing

2009-01-28T12:42:00.003-07:00

So, I'm stuck in the house.

The sun is out a little, but it is still not terribly pleasant outside. I found a scrap of fleece and unearthed the sewing machine for a little engineering/freestyle designing.

I tried to duplicate/modify the design on a freebie balaclava we've had around the house for awhile. I used one of Charlie washable markers to sketch out the design on the fleece, minus one piece and this is what I came up with...

It's not perfect or windproof, but it was free, is keeping my neck warm right now and occupied a half hour of my otherwise ho-hum day.

brrrrr.... & grrrr....

2009-01-28T09:11:00.003-07:00

Today's complaints:

My back hurts...
I just had to help dig my car out of the driveway after a big, icy drift developed overnight.

My front hurts...
See above complaint.

I just poured the last hot cup of coffee.
We are out of half and half.

Yesterday it was 18 below zero. Today it's 22 above.
There is just no consistency in this world.

And, in the amount of time I've taken to write this, my cheeks have started to thaw and they STING!

I wonder who is hiring in Hawaii?

Similar Minds

2009-01-20T12:34:00.006-07:00

Okay, obviously First Lady Michelle Obama and I were of the same mind when it came to color selection for Inauguration Day. And, we were probably getting dressed at the same time, as she dressed in a gorgeous Isabel Toledo ensemble and I put on my shirt from Target at 4:30 MST this morning.

Coincidence?

No, just two women ready to spend the day glowing...

A Lovely Day For An Inauguration

2009-01-20T08:50:00.005-07:00

I am not there in person, but I'm parked in front the television. Our flag is flying and a beautiful day awaits the beginning of a new era.

We took this photo first thing this morning, after I got back from working early this morning, teaching English in Korea, explaining to my student the process and promise of the Inauguration today. It was probably 16 degrees when I was hanging the flag from the ladder that I later used as a tripod/quadpod. The forecast today is for a clear day with a high of forty-four degrees, obviously to correspond with the Inauguration of the Forty-fourth President.

To all this I say...only and thankfully in America.

Ramblings On A Congressional Vote

2009-01-16T09:47:00.001-07:00

I used to think -- in fact I used to know -- that most everyone in public service was there due to credentials and experience. From a young age I had convinced myself that the person elected to public office knew things -- important things -- that either I didn’t know due to my own lack of intelligence or lack of experience. Now, based on the past 8 years and most recently the last couple of days, I know that I was wrong. Just because someone has been elected to something doesn’t mean that they are in possession of more knowledge, experience or common sense than I have and that is a disappointing realization with which to grapple.

Since the November election, I’ve spent some time reflecting on the last eight years and what I find to be a rough and uncomfortable era. I’m happy it is passing. I am glad to know that I won’t have to await the broadcast of national news with trepidation. I spent the last many years ready for the squirm that would come when I would hear the latest dreadful gaffe by an elected official who’d obviously forgotten how to speak English. Was it inability or just blatant disregarded for our language’s rules, much like the rules of fair play and help for the common man that were also disregarded? I am not so foolish as to think that the president-elect’s language won’t be picked apart for “-isms” but I look forward to an era of eloquence in speech that I have sorely missed.

A recent experience did snap me out of my dreamy stupor of what is to be when the Oath of Office is administered. The vote on the SCHIP legislation came to the House of Representatives and the Wyoming representative, who certainly did not go into office with any mandate, voted against it. She replaces a painfully ineffectual representative who barely hung onto her seat in the last election go-round and the freshman representative is now at odds with the majority. She took the opportunity to vote against legislation that would help thousands of children receive state-funded health coverage as well as reauthorizing the program for the many that are currently covered. She referred to it, on our neighboring state’s 10 o’clock news as “another entitlement program hijacked by the Democrats”. Nice. Not only is this newbie representative slamming the existing program that has proved so beneficial to so many, including my children, but she is equating other elected officials with... terrorists? Nice, again. Great entrance into the circles of power and a beautiful effort on her part to propagate the climate of fear that has been the hallmark of the departing administration. I guess she is remembering that the expansion was vetoed twice by Bush and is continuing the policies of the departing power that is willing to send billions of dollars to failing industry, not require culpability in the lavishly compensated executives, but say that expanding the health insurance of children provided by the states is too much of a financial burden. The conservative Representative of the state to our north voted in FAVOR of SCHIP. Do his constituents know that he’s now being equated with hijackers? Maybe there was a need to wrestle this to the forefront of the session and not give the lame duck Chief Executive an opportunity to jackhammer the bill again. In the Representative from Wyoming’s depiction, insuring children against illness and injury, so that they can become productive, tax-paying citizens is another "entitlement" ripe for derision, but looking out for the interests of mineral producers and privatizing Social Security is of far more importance than our children's well-being. I know what drives the economy of Wyoming, I know what her priorities appear to be, but there comes a time and an opportunity to take care and help one’s own state and those most in need of the benefits of coverage. Could there be better way to do this than reauthorize and expand a program that will help the young of Wyoming become the productive workforce that will continue to benefit this state? If the Representative has a better solution, she is not shouting it loud enough to advocate for the young of this state.

I could proceed to quote studies about the benefits of early wellness intervention and the ability for a family to know they can have medical access before a small problem or illness snowballs into an expensive, uninsured visit to the emergency room that might leave them bankrupt or worse, uninsurable. I would think that a candidate and, now Representative, who counted on the support of the pro-life voters would understand that health care and support of the young doesn’t end with the avoidance of abortion and a live birth. I’ll spare you the quotation of studies and statistics, but I will mention the logic of a good friend, a priest in this community, who called the Wyoming Representative in DC to recommend her vote in support of the bill by saying she had seen, in the schools, in the lives of her neighbors and friends, the benefit of health coverage for those young children that are most in need; those healthy children will become healthy and productive members of society. I would think that all are deserving of that opportunity to thrive and should not be scolded for being too much of a burden.

The good news is that SCHIP was reauthorized and expanded. With broad bipartisan support, the House of Representatives approved the Children's Health Insurance Program Reauthorization Act (CHIPRA), H.R. 2, by a vote of 289 to 139. This is an exciting first step toward ensuring that states have the resources and authority they need to enroll millions of low income pregnant women and children in comprehensive, affordable health coverage. If there is ever a worthy “entitlement” it is certainly the health of this state's children. With the reauthorization and expansion of the program, I do hope that our new administration will see clear of those that come to the halls of power bearing grudges and looking narrowly at the future. And I certainly hope that those in Wyoming will make their hopes and requirements for the future known to the new Representative in Wyoming so that we don’t have two more years of special interest focus without a bat of the eye to those most in need. I would encourage you, no matter where you may live, to call your Senators and insist that they vote an enthusiastic YES to reauthorize the SCHIP program.

Feeling Nordic

2009-01-13T14:01:00.001-07:00

Feeling Nordic, originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo.

With all this snow around, I'm feeling kinda Nordic today...

Banzai!

2009-01-12T16:00:00.000-07:00

Banzai!, originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo.

There were no classes for Charlie and Augusta today, so we went to Homesteader Park for some sledding on a sunny but snowy day.

Charlie's New Train

2009-01-06T17:51:00.000-07:00

Charlie's New Train from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Where's Charlie

2009-01-04T17:59:00.000-07:00

For those of you that wonder what we do on those days when it's ZERO DEGREES, this one is for you...

Where Is Charlie? from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Skating

2008-12-27T16:00:00.000-07:00

Augusta tried skating for the first time and we've all lived to tell the tale...

First Time Skating from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Togetherness

2008-12-26T22:38:00.001-07:00

Is this affection from the two of furry children due devotion to togetherness... or is their food silo empty?

And, who knew that a new basketball could be such a comfortable pillow?

Christmas At Our House

2008-12-25T18:01:00.000-07:00

Christmas Morning 2008 from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

The Saga of the Lefse Lineage

2008-12-03T09:06:00.000-07:00

The Thanksgiving holiday has come and gone and as we charge up the ramp to Christmas, I can say that a family tradition was demonstrated and our bellies benefitted.

Being somewhat Scandinavian, I hold in my possession old family recipes for that addictive annual appetizer know as lefse. I may call it an appetizer, but in reality it is a food of many callings. It is a Norwegian potato flatbread, made with cream and butter, that can be a snack before the turkey is out of the oven, can unite with turkey and cranberries as a main course, can sop up the gravy and dressing when the turkey and cranberries are gone, and can be buttered and sugared for dessert. Every midwestern-origin Scandinavian spawn can wax poetic on all the iterations of the loved lefse and finish the sentence with "but... it's a lot of work."

It is a lot of work. And, as I found out recently, can result in surprise and family politics when discussing the genesis of recipes. Last summer, I was in California visiting family when I saw my now 99 year old godmother. Viola lives on her own in a delightfully decorated duplex at the Lutheran Retirement Home. She still leads Bible studies, takes all her meals in the dining room and is proud owner of her fourth pacemaker. I don't exaggerate when I say she sparkles. Her mother and my daughter share the first name Augusta, which is just a happy coincidence and not by design. She and her husband, Hildor, began their lives in the Midwest and were part of the mid-1950s exodus to the promised land of the Golden State of California. My father, also from North Dakota, was part of that cross-continent drift as well and became a pet project of Hildor and Viola when they were all teaching in the Woodlake schools and he the bachelor chemistry teacher.

My mother, not Norwegian in origin but of Iowa English extraction, had passed on to me the two lefse recipes that have resided in her recipe box since marrying my father the half-Norwegian-quarter-German-quarter-Irish-off-the-boats-from-North-Dakota-by-way-of-Canada in 1965. One of the recipes is my grandmother Mary Madigan's, a distinctly not-Norwegian, but probably passed from, maybe, paternal great-grandmother Ingaborg Justad. Got that? It's that recipe with the cooked potatoes, lots of butter, lots and lots of cream and some flour. I've tried that recipe and it didn't work all that well. I overcooked the pototaoes, probably didn't use the right technique with the potato ricer and wound up with something closer to a oversized saltine cracker. The other recipe I have is attributed to Viola and uses (gasp!) dried potatoes. But it worked previously and was good. I have pictures of my daughter snacking in the high chair on lefse, so I know I'd made it at least once in the last few years here. I've passed the recipe on to a friend here, so I know the recipe and its use of dried potatoes has been a topic for discussion, but probably out of ear shot of the text book Norwegians.

I saw Viola for lunch in August. It was during that lunch that I told her, quite happily, that I'd used her recipe with the Butter Buds for lefse and found it to be a success here. You would have that I was questioning the parentage of that baby born in a manger by the reaction I got. I was told in no uncertain terms that it couldn't have been her recipe because she would have never, ever have used dried potatoes. I quickly changed the subject to tortillas, which actually worked, because we were eating at a nice Mexican restaurant with its own tortilla machine chugging away across from us.

With the memory of the lefse-tortilla-luncheon controversy fresh as hydrating potatoes still in my mind, I began looking for the recipes the day before Thanksgiving. I couldn't find them. Now, my house is small and disorganized, but I really should be able to find two recipe cards. But, after shoving this, stashing that and still failing, I couldn't locate them. I was ready to retreat, but I'd offered to bring lefse to the Thanksgiving dinner we were to share with my children's godparents. I looked on the box of Butter Buds in the off-chance that the recipe might be there; no dice but I did find some lovely instructions in Spanish that I was intrigued to try. Finally, I went to the computer. I went to BettyCrocker.com, but a search for lefse was not fruitful in their gazillilon recipe database. I went to my old pal Google, bastion of obscure, untested and often wrong recipes to find THE BUTTER BUDS LEFSE recipe! There it was, in all its Midwestern resourcefulness and glory, on a blog. Hallelujah for the blog! The recipe was credited to two Minnesota Lutheran church ladies, so I figured that chances were high that is was a legitimate recipe and not submitted by some Samoan looking to win a cross-cultural recipe contest. I went to work.

I boiled my water, melted the butter, dumped in the Butter Buds and fluffed to an ideal consistency. No overcooked potatoes, no ricer, and, thanks to a handy tip in the Googled recipe, no condensation from the cling wrap to make for soggy cold potatoes. Thanksgiving morning, my not-Norwegian husband took over the potatoes, adding the flour with the help of the dough hook on the stand mixer and rolled out a gorgeous dough that was griddled to perfection and flipped without much tearing with the help of the lefse stick that resides on our kitchen wall most of the year. The children sat at the counter, rolling and patting their own lumps of dough. Being a good techno-Mom, I captured most of it all on digital video and I've now uploaded the edited four minutes to Vimeo. Later that day, a heavenly match of smoked turkey, cranberry-pear sauce and lefse made its way to my delighted palate.

And, when the time comes, as I present myself to that particular saint at those particular gates, I will proudly say "I USED DRIED POTATOES!"

Lefse from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

The Dog Bone & Duane Eddy

2008-11-19T20:56:00.000-07:00

The Dog Bone & Duane Eddy from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Craig Ferguson Knows

2008-11-11T03:00:00.000-07:00

Obama Corner in Powell

2008-11-03T21:02:00.001-07:00

I am hoping for change. I am ready for change. I wanted to do just a little something to express myself so... I mowed.

I mowed the yard full of cottonwood leaves to expose a blank but green canvas. I drove to the hardware store. I bought three cans of paint. I sprayed.

Here is to the hope for tomorrow and the changes, for the good, that I hope will result.

Unexpected Invasion

2008-10-11T22:06:00.000-06:00

Due to unexpected and significant snow arriving in Powell early this year, residents are advised to be prepared for a Viking invasion.

Approach with caution. Offer lollipops as appeasement. Be on the lookout for inordinate amounts of lefse and lutefisk...

Listening to Jay Meisel

2008-10-06T22:17:00.000-06:00

I just returned from a lecture by NYC photographer Jay Meisel at our local community college. He spoke of the photographer's relationship to light, color, content and luck. His presentation was titled "Bearing Witness".

It was pretty great.

He showed slides of his current work but also a long segment of his photographs of his daughter, Amanda, from before her arrival to today. I spoke with him afterwards and told him I felt good knowing I wasn't the only parent continually shooting pictures of the kid. I showed him this picture of Augusta. He was very complimentary.

Not My Dog, Episode 1

2008-10-06T11:00:00.000-06:00

Not My Dog, Episode 1 from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

No Get Out Of Jail Free Card, Thanks.

2008-09-29T11:22:00.001-06:00

I woke this morning, listening to the radio with its report on the upcoming vote on the "bailout" to "help save Wall Street". I admit I was still bleary-eyed; full of Autumn congestion due to allergies, more than a little fuzzy-brained as I tried to get a clear breath of morning air but I had a feeling strong in my gut: DON'T DO IT. I knew I had to get up, look one or two things up on the innertubes, and then write to the current Senators from Wyoming. DON'T DO IT. Actually, I can't recall hearing a word in the two weeks from Senators Enzi and Barrasso. Are they around? What do they have to say about this mess? Did they know it was coming? Senator Enzi has been able to tell us in the past, as one of the few if not only accountants in the Senate, an accountant's perspective of the goings-on. Have I missed his statements? Would my accountant or any accountant in Powell, given the choice of this "bailout" plan, vote in favor of it? How about my financial advisor? Are all these decisions by our leaders based on current research or just a pass along of debt to my children so all involved can get home to campaign. Oh, holy moly I hope not.

I know I don't have any bargaining power here. I'm strapped for money like so many others. I want a strong future for my children. I want some of the financial pain of the last many months to lessen. But, I also want answers. I think that we all deserve them. I want culpability. I want someone in a leadership position to accept responsibility and come forth with a viable plan that doesn't sound like a scene from the game Monopoly with a "get out of jail free card". Stop calling this a "bailout" and start calling it a future plan. Show some realism and some pragmatism. Put away the tubes of lipstick to dress up a stinking pile of double-triple-and quadruple talk. Tell me what it, this pile of zeros that may or may not be enough, means for Wyoming.

There has to be a solution to this that doesn't involve an "old boy's network" of back-slapping and bait-and-switching. I am not asking for perfection but I can't settle for the tossing around of numbers that I can't fathom... billion trillion grumpzillion ... with no explanation, no paper trail, no ACCOUNTABILITY. "Do it now, buy it now, get the money now..." all smacks of high pressure sales and not thoughtful analysis of economic indicators and the black and white of a balance sheet. Why do the "little people" get locked out of the La-La Land of Wall Street when it comes to CEO payouts with buckets of benefits for bad management? Who is holding the ring of keys for these folks now? Who will have their futures piled on with mountains of debt to help these badly managed institutions? Isn't it time for the "little people" to stop answering the call for more, more, more money?

It is definitely time for change. Call your Senators. Call them today. Demand an explanation and their plan. If you don't get it, tell them to pack their bags and we'll get someone in that can and will explain. We all deserve a better future than what is looming on this unexplained horizon. We all need to trust our gut feelings on this one.

Tales From Sleep

2008-09-22T09:19:00.000-06:00

Okay, so Scott has a cold and I have an impressive onset of allergy symptoms. We overate last night, I had a beer (shouldn't), the house was stuffy and we're just a little stressed... but all that must make for cool dreams.

Early this morning:

I'm at a political rally of some sort, and the crowd has moved away. I'm left behind, fiddling with my camera and trying to keep Charlie from wandering away. Just then, Barack Obama walks up, with a huuuuuuge security detail, and asks if everything is okay. Charlie says "HI! I got the BUBBLES!". He is picked up by Senator Obama and placed on his shoulders. Charlie looked as though he was 40 feet in the air. It was like a dream in HD — the vivid color, or lack of color, in Charlie's white hair on the shoulders of the sharply dressed Democratic candidate with a glorious wide, white smile and lush skin and black hair. Everyone was smiling, even the security guards. And I say, "but I can't get my camera to work!"

... just figures.

And no, Charlie wasn't wearing his "My Mama's For Obama" shirt. He was wearing his much loved Bob the Builder shirt. Figures as well.

No Training Wheels

2008-09-17T20:14:00.001-06:00

No Training Wheels from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

2008-09-15T18:53:00.001-06:00

A New Jump Rope from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Rainy Day Cake

2008-09-07T20:23:00.001-06:00

The Ghost's Favorite Cake from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Perception, Part Deux

2008-09-03T09:39:00.001-06:00

In a week of near-disasters by nature and the gathering of people in the Midwest that I don't share a worldview, with "Maverick"-this and "Governor Mother"-that, I can't help but wonder if I'm the first to realize that the GOP candidates should be heretofore referred to as the "McPain Ticket".

November can't come soon enough... Can I get an amen?

What Scott Did On His Summer Vacation.

2008-08-26T14:06:00.000-06:00

While I was in California with the kids, Scott went to the Jackson Hole Music Festival to see the Avett Brothers.

Avett Brothers • Die Die Die from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

A Stop In Los Gatos

2008-08-26T14:00:00.001-06:00

On our return drive to Wyoming, we stopped for a brief visit with our good friend Beth at Oak Meadow Park in Los Gatos.

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

2008-08-19T23:34:00.001-06:00

Fig Jam from Justine Larsen on Vimeo.

Beaches, Babies, Urban Birds & Belly Dancing On The Central Coast Of California

2008-08-10T17:01:00.000-06:00

With a few hours on the the innertubes last Wednesday, I was able to locate a relatively inexpensive motel in San Luis Obispo and, with a quick repacking of bags that had just been unpacked after our arrival a few days ago, I headed off to the Central Coast with my mom and kids.

After a stop at the surgeon's office ( my mom was to have foot surgery last Wednesday but was canceled due low potassium level) for a new set of labs, we drove off through the wide Central Valley of California. I'd not planned on stopping in Paso Robles at my favorite winery, on the way west on Highway 46. As luck would have it, Augusta called for a potty break just as we came upon Tobin James. Old Cisco, the Australian shepherd that would greet us upon arrival has passed away since our last visit but Lance, the co-owner, did a great job pretending that he remembered the FromWyomings. Mom and I did a tasting at high noon, which is my idea of a good start to any vacation. Outside they are continuing to build a great patio-barbeque area that I had to take pictures of in an effort to memorize the design. I guess I'll just call it "inspiration" and not thievery...

We pressed on to through Paso Robles, which is having insane growth, onto Highway 46 towards Cambria. We took Highway 1 south to see the fog in Morro Bay and have lunch at the Hofbrau overlooking the water. And know what? NO FOG! There is almost always fog in Morro Bay...

The kids had a great time in the water. Gorgeous skies, toasty sand, an ocean breeze and happy children.

We drove from Morro Bay State Park to Baywood Park on our way to Montana de Oro — all the way to the end of the road. Back through Los Osos, (again, unbelievable growth) our next stop was the Rose Garden Inn in San Luis Obispo, to visit their swimming pool before going on to Farmers' Market downtown to meet Sharkartist, a not-so-imaginary online friend. Sharkey was a great sport, even when Charlie got cranky over being told no on going in the bounce house that was set up on the street. Yes, his mother mistreats him terribly...

Friday, after a huge breakfast at Margie's Diner, we headed off to the Pismo and Shell Beach areas to marvel at the growth. It was then off to Avila Beach for a snack and splash for a few hours. Again, it was just unexpectedly gorgeous weather. We'd located a couple of toy Yellow Submarines and some cheap sand buckets at a Pismo grocery store, so we were streamlined, sunscreened and set.

Leaving Avila about 2 pm, I made a quick U-turn at See Canyon, telling Mom that in the time I'd lived in SLO, I'd never driven that road. See Canyon is the apple orchard area between the coast and San Luis Obispo. We stopped at Kelsey See Canyon Vineyards for a tasting amid the peacocks and old dogs in the driveway. Very nice and we came away with an Apple Merlot and a bottle of their Syrah. Mmmm... mmm...mmmmmmmmm.

The drive through See Canyon was incredible and as remote as anything in Wyoming. At the summit we could look over clear skies and see San Luis Obispo, Morro Bay and Montana de Oro - all areas stunningly beautiful for a second day in a row. The road took us back through Perfumo Canyon and into the Laguna Lake area of San Luis Obispo. I stopped, while the kids napped in the car and Grandma listened to KCBX, for a platter of sushi and a cheesecake to take to our friends' home for dinner before the Beijing Opening Ceremonies on their big screen. It was at our friends' hillside home in southern San Luis Obispo that we met "The Girls".

The Girls, two very sassy hens, keep 4 humans and a parrot for pets. In exchange for their accommodations in the chi-chi custom built coop, they provide 2 eggs a day. Unless they are feeling broody, that is...

The Girls' pets, Doug and Lori, are celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary this year. And, that lovely green structure in the garden is The Girls' Urbane Roost. Augusta played with their daughter, Sarah, and Charlie idolized their 10 year old son, Jake. It was a really nice evening to catch up and have some laughs. Scott and Doug go way back and Doug was one of the groomsmen in our wedding. It's so nice to know they are back to San Luis for 5 years now and raising some great children in addition to their services to the household hens.

On Saturday morning, we headed back to downtown San Luis Obispo for breakfast at The Big Sky restaurant after a recommendation from Sharkey. Many, many moons ago it was DK's West Indies Bar and the place I saw Robyn Hitchcock in a fantastic acoustic performance. Scott could give you a laundry list of the bands he saw there. But, times change and I went there for coffeecake instead of a witty songwriter's between-song banter.

I then walked the kids down Garden Street. I poked my head into a very pricey children's boutique. Augusta was complemented on her outfit of a dress lovingly made by her Fairy Godmother Martha and her thrift store pink plaid Chuck Taylor's. Needless to say, I wasn't inclined to puchase an $80 skirt with 36 yards of hot pink and cocoa brown tulle. We walked passed Linnea's Cafe, the coffeehouse that was a big chunk of the inspiration for Parlor News Coffeehouse when we opened in 1996. While walking past, a brightly dressed woman was getting out of her car. Charlie said, "oh, PRETTY!" when he saw her.

She was going to belly dance at the Mission Plaza as part of the Day With Creative Women, which was where we were headed at that very moment.

Augusta had her face painted for the first time. As a princess, of course...

We watched the dancers and I took a ton of pictures. Charlie wandered around and was a little confused by what had happened to his sister.

We sat and watched and listened at the amphitheater overlooking San Luis Creek.

Charlie enjoyed the show...

After a drive through the Cal Poly campus, where I started at KCPR and met Scott more than 20 years ago, we drove back to Woodlake with a dinner stop at In-N-Out Burger in Visalia.

It was a nice couple of days and I was glad for the great company, entertainment and the chance to watch the ocean while squishing sand between my toes.

Road Trip

2008-08-05T01:01:00.000-06:00

What do you get when you mix three National Parks, two small children and 1260 miles to Grandma's house? A road trip with 3 of the 4 FromWyomings!

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

From the Fair

2008-07-27T23:16:00.001-06:00

From the Fair
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

I just picked up all the canned-pickled-jammed-jellied entries I put into competition for the Park County Fair.

Some of the items I entered this year:
pickled asparagus
raspberry jam
pear bourbon jam
plum jelly
ginger peach jam
pickled lemons
giardinera
brined and pickled California olives
Fuyu persimmon chutney
peach jam
orange chutney
pickled peppers

Overall, I entered too many pickles. I guess this last year was heavier on the pickles than the sweets. I wonder what that says about my attitudes this last year.

I must have been more tart than sweet, overall.

The jar of tomato eggplant pasta sauce won a blue ribbon and a reserve grand champion ribbon. Maybe, I'm just meant to be saucy...

Everyone Needs A Fairy Godmother

2008-07-06T16:35:00.001-06:00

Flour Sack Dress by Martha
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

There are some lucky children in our house.

Augusta has become a fashion plate with the help of her Fairy Godmother Martha. This afternoon she received FGM's latest creation of a flour sack dress. This was made most inventively with a remnant of fabric that was originally made into a shirt for Fairy Godmother Martha's son, Schawn.

Everyone really does need a fairy godmother.

Wedding At Weather Rock Ranch

2008-07-03T15:13:00.001-06:00

Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

Emotions Of A Three Year Old

2008-06-18T20:58:00.000-06:00

Father's Day

2008-06-14T17:09:00.001-06:00

Jon Justad & Justine in SF
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

The weekend following Friday the 13th has been filled with kind and genuine remembrances of NBC’s Tim Russert who died suddenly, at work and surrounded by colleagues, following a family vacation to Italy to celebrate his son’s graduation from university. I, too, respected and appreciated what this talented man has contributed to our nation through his directness, ethics and opinions. I could relate to the pain and astonishment that a young person can feel upon losing their parent in such a sudden and distressing fashion because I’ve been there myself. The media coverage, though I haven’t seen much more than a smidgen of it, got the memory wheels in my mind to turning as a Friday of bad news rolled into a Saturday morning of e-mails reminding me of the approach of Father’s Day. I’ve had a few years to get through a Father’s Day without the benefit of my father but this will be the first for Tim Russert’s son to be without him. It’s going to be a difficult one.

My father was the son of an immigrant and homesteader. He lost his father when he was 12, from a sudden heart attack. His father, Rayder, died in the front yard as he returned home from the butcher shop he owned in Parshall, North Dakota. My grandparents had moved to town from the farm. They had homesteaded in Raub where my grandmother had delivered four sons, of whom the youngest was my father, Jon. A fortuitous remarriage to a “bachelor Norwegian farmer” saved my grandmother from losing the farm and gave my father a wonderful stepfather in Hans Monson. My father went on to Carleton College before attending what is now the University of Northern Iowa. he enlisted, having padded his age by a year, in the Navy at the outset of World War II. He spent his Navy days on a medical ship in the Great Lakes due to a double nuisance of flat feet and a tendon injury from boyhood football. He wasn’t so much a risk not to be taken in to the service during the war, so I’m sure his remaining stateside was a relief to my grandmother Mary. Her other son, Mickey, had been reported as lost in the Battle of the Bulge. My uncle was able to escape through Russia to return to the Midwest and open the first drive-in movie theater in Austin, Minnesota. Eventually my uncle moved south to Arizona and my father made his way to California in the mid-1950s to teach high school chemistry and physics in the land of milk, oranges and honey that was Woodlake.

Zipping forward to another decade, my father was in his twenty-fifth year of teaching at Woodlake High School when I had finished eighth grade and was heading for high school. Both my parents taught at my high school and I was destined to have one or both for a teacher. I was being a typical surly, overly independent teen as that school year wrapped. I was trying to spread my wings in the incoming freshman fashion; sassing my parents, teetering on the edge of curfew, drifting defiantly between sullen and more sullen. I was a migraine walking about my parents’ house. We took a long vacation to Carmel to celebrate the ending of the school year, in the new convertible my parents had purchased that spring. My father had always wanted a convertible and he enjoyed it in a town he adored, even with sourpuss me in the back seat.

We returned home and went back to life in the summer for a family of teachers. Both my parents worked on projects that they’d not had time for during the school year. My sister and I swam in the backyard pool. I went to ball games and flirted with boys. I don’t remember a great amount of detail about those days following our return from vacation other than having a particularly nasty spat with my father, most likely about not being home before dark. I do know I never said I was sorry for being a jerk. One afternoon he moved a heavy bookcase, even though I was in the house and could have been of some help. He spent the rest of the afternoon taking Alka-Seltzer for what he thought was indigestion. I came home from a ball game and he had gone to bed early. I started a bath, could hear my mother going into their bedroom to check on him. I soon heard strange breathing patterns and her return to the bedroom saying “Jon.....Jon?” and then yelling for me. I got out into a towel, ran into the bedroom and found him collapsed. He’d had a massive heart attack and was dying. I yelled for my mother to call the ambulance, which arrived with past students of his as the EMTs. He was transported to the hospital in Visalia, but was never revived. He would have been 60 on that next New Year’s Eve. Some of what happened that night is relatively clear while much of it seems to be a different life lived by another family entirely. I guess that may be the effects of twenty-five years and trying harder than not to dwell on it all.

I have been trying to think about the meaning of Father’s Day as it applies to my husband and father of my children. As my son grows I cherish what is to come for him and his father but I struggle to put aside melancholy that tries to surge, especially when the news of a son’s loss of his father on this particular weekend began to overtake the television. Tim Russert has successfully put into his book Wisdom of Our Fathers: Lessons and Letters from Daughters and Sons those many words I wish I could verbalize every day of the year to my father. I would especially like my father to hear from me that I’ve somehow managed to get over my teenage jerkiness. I wish he could have known me as an adult and I could have shown him my children. He would certainly have enjoyed their energy and the sass that is now starting to come my way. He’d be the first to laugh and say that he remembered what it was like.

As I woke this morning, I looked at the small, damaged picture I have of my father as a three year old with a shock of blonde hair and I saw my son. I’d like to think that the missing of my father might have diminished over the twenty-five years that he’s been gone. I wish I could tell Tim Russert’s son it is possible to overcome the shock, but I don’t know that I can. I will hope that the memories of their last weeks together will outweigh the grief.

Even with missing my father greatly, I found a little gift in the last couple of weeks. My mother was here visiting and having headaches with the gardener back home. She had to find, via telephone, a new gardener. As it turns out, the new gardener is a former student of my parents. He had recently emigrated to California from Mexico when he came to the high school. He didn’t have the money to attend the Junior Prom. My father paid for him to go. He still remembered Mr. Justad and was, I think, happy to help out my mother. I’d never heard that story before and I’m happy to know that my father may have made a small difference in someone else’s life. I know I’m grateful for the time my father was in my life and I hope I can share with my children some of the spirit that was his.

Charlie Mud Puddle

2008-05-24T11:14:00.001-06:00

Charlie Mud Puddle
Originally uploaded by Scott & Justine fromWyo

It's been raining here.

A lot - much more than we're used to, but there are no complaints for we need the moisture.

Really, though, could anything make the little boy happier than a big mud puddle across the street from the house?

Have boots, will splash...

Hey, Lady...

2008-04-14T22:21:00.001-06:00

I saw a big, happy, healthy Ladybug today.

I just thought I should let you know...

Setting Free The Stuff

2008-03-30T17:05:00.000-06:00

As spring break wraps up and my daughter relishes her return to school, I find myself puttering about the house with many projects swimming around my head. Of course, Easter holidays usually signify the onset of true spring-like weather but the the actual observance of Holy Week and Easter came early - really early- this year. The gooey snow of last week guaranteed a lot of time in the the house looking at the accumulation that accompanied this winter and many winters past. Magazines, dvds, toys, mismatched mittens, extraneous crayons and markers... stuff, Stuff, STUFF! It was too cold to overlook the cluttering of the stuff in the house to go prepare the yard or drag out the outdoor distractions of the hammock for the warm afternoons. I was stuck. That pestiferous voice in the recesses of my mind nagged "Enough! Clean this mess up before you're outside all day in the yard for the next half a year." I went with the directive as best I could with two small children in the house. I got the tax information in, filed through the piles, tackled dust bunnies and did a victory dance as I backed up the computer to dvd while uploading long forgotten pictures. Unfortunately something then happened that hijacked my whole grand scheme with one failure: the refrigerator expired.

Deader than dead was my 2001 Whirlpool side by side with many month's fresh meat defrosted. I called for repair, I Googled for a part and crossed my fingers; I prayed to the kitchen gods of goodness and frugality but it was all for naught. I begged a loaner fridge, spent a couple of days cooking, marinating, and packaging while I began the search for a replacement. Many things have changed over the last few years when it comes to replacing a major household appliance, many for the better and a few not. I began the search for an Energy Star unit that would be efficient, affordable and capable of going back into the space that the Whirlpool would be vacating. I looked. I read customer reviews. I got nervous. Am I the only one to notice that in a world populated by the tiniest of technologies, refrigerators seem to get bigger and bigger? A laptop that can fit in a manila envelope? Sure. A mobile phone that is smaller than a pack of gum? No problem. A t.v. that can snug up against a wall? Yes, yes, yes! A refrigerator that isn't 30 inches deep. Good flippin' luck. The only thing getting smaller on a refrigerator is its compressor and it's that one fact explains why something that cost a grand at the beginning of THIS century didn't make it a decade. Yes, I looked at repair, but the sad news is a new compressor would run in the neighborhood of $600 and the fridge I finally located is $700. What would you do? Needless to say, the new one isn't a Whirlpool.

My great household meltdown of '08 started more than Spring cleaning for me. I hadn't been able to put a name to what I wanted to do until today when I was on the internet looking for ways to disinfect a dishwasher, which I thought might be a good idea after this winter's cold and flu onslaught. Yes, that is precisely the random stuff I look up in my day to day interactions with the Internet. I ran across a blog of helpful cleaning strategies (hints don't work for me, I need strategy) that succintly described what I'd been trying to communicate to my inner neat-nick. It's called "Discardia" and it's described this way: Discardia is celebrated by getting rid of stuff and ideas you no longer need. It's about letting go, abdicating from obligation and guilt, being true to the self you are now. Discardia is the time to get rid of things that no longer add value to your life, shed bad habits, let go of emotional baggage and generally lighten your load. It's viewed as a holiday by some, but I don't need another holiday. I need clarity. I need organization. I need ease of locating what should be in my house, not another reason to send out a greeting card that I may or may not have bought but now can't find in the paper stacked next to my computer. So, I began. I went through stuff. I disposed of what I'd not used in 5 years. I filled the dumpster with all the stuff I promised myself I'd repair myself 7 years ago. I tried shoes and clothes and socks on the kids and myself, passing on the outgrown items. I cleaned toys to take to St. John's Thrift Store. I put all the photographs in their own organized box. I listed usable but unwanted things on eBay. I even dusted... a little. After a winter of feeling crowded by the stuff, I began to breath easier. I've been emptying out the cupboards, cooking the food I have on hand. I've been reminding myself, whenever I caught myself saying "I'm almost out of....******..." to refrain from running to the store. I've let my Costco membership lapse. I no longer see buying in bulk as a necessary thing. The reality of food sitting on a shelf for a couple years, just so I can save 19 cents when I buy twenty boxes, isn't very appealing to my palate. And, more importantly, I simply don't have the room. If I can't buy it at my local grocery, I don't need it. A walk to the farthest grocery in town for me is a two mile round trip. There's no reason I can't walk to pick up a little something to round out dinner and I won't have to shove and cram to make its super-duper econo size container fit in my cupboards.

Simplicity is what I want; a streamlined life with the help of my households sprites saying "no, you don't need that" when I linger at a website showing that latest whatzit at a steal of a price. I want what I have to last. I know, finally, there is no such thing as retail therapy. Happiness comes only with simplicity. I truly appreciate anyone who can produce an item that is useful, miniscule, and long-lasting. I sure don't like throwing things away, but I do like being able to live with less stuff. I guess "Discardia" isn't just a particular day, but a mindset for which I'm finally ready.