Me
Some little boys have such a sweet nature that it is almost surprising…especially when they are also a little bit tough guy. That pretty much describes my grand nephew, Matthew. When he was little he used to play fighting ninja on demand. He would try to make sure we all knew not to mess with him, and yet inside this little boy was a very kind heart. He loves to be a helper, especially when it involves his grandma, my sister, Cheryl. Matthew would do anything for her. He loves her so much. And second to her would have to be my mom, his great grandmother, but then, Matthew is a very loving guy, and he thinks he whole family is pretty great.
When Matthew was little…in his ninja days, I fully expected him to be a tough guy, who never showed much emotion, but then came the day that he walked in the door to my mom’s house, saw me sitting in the first chair he came to, and he walked right up to me and gave me a big hug. I was so surprised. It was just such a loving, sweet thing to do…not a tough guy move at all, but it was a Matthew move, as I have since found out.
To me it seemed like Matthew changed from tough guy to loving guy overnight. I’m sure that wasn’t the case, but I don’t see him every day…more like once a week or so. I suppose that in church there is just too much going on to notice the changes, but when he came into Mom’s living room, there were no distractions, and this sweet little boy simply 
acted on the feelings in his heart. His loving hug for me, his great aunt was such a precious act, and one that has stayed in my heart ever since. Little did he know that his actions that day brought joy into the heart of his work weary great aunt. And even if it meant little more than a hello hug to him, it made my entire day. How awesome that was.
Today, that sweet little boy turns 7 years old…also, unbelievable. I know that as he grows, he will become more and more loving, because it is simply in his nature. Happy birthday Matthew!! I love you very much sweet boy!! Have an awesome day!!
Every year on July 10th, I take a few moments to reflect of the wonderful gift that God has given me…my husband, Bob. When I wake up on July 10th, it just hits me. Almost 2 years before I was born, the man God planned for me…to be my husband…was born. Bob is so perfect for me. We are good together…a good team. Our personalities compliment each other and we share like interests. What could be more perfect.
I was talking to Bob’s dad today, and he mentioned his memories about the day of Bob’s birth. It is quite a story. The family was spending the day in Billings when my mother-in-law went into labor with Bob. Since this was her third child, things can go very fast. My mother-in-law was determined to have her own doctor deliver Bob…her doctor was in Miles City, which is 145 miles from Billings. My father-in-law said that he sure didn’t want to leave Billings, but she was so determined, so he gave in. I don’t know how much time they had to spare, but I do know that there was definite concern that Bob might arrive somewhere on the highway between Billings and Miles City. Bob waited, and his arrival was in Miles City…after which, my father-in-law breathed a huge sigh of relief.
As my father-in-law spoke about that hurried trip, I could picture the whole scene in my mind. My mother-in-law has always been very strong willed, and my father-in-law has always been pretty soft hearted where she is concerned. I can just imagine how she felt too. At a time like that you want your own doctor, not a stranger, in a strange hospital, is 
a city you don’t live in…especially since hospital stays for births weren’t 1 day or less then. She knew it would be a hardship on the whole family if they had to try to go back and forth.
In the end, it all worked out, and Bob waited until they reached Miles City to be born. I believe he would have been fine either way, and I suppose being born on the highway would have given them all a story to tell, but it would have been scary too, and I’m glad they didn’t have to go through that. Happy birthday my sweet husband!! I love you very much, and thank God for you each and every day!!
Today, Bob and I hiked the next section of the Mickelson Trail. It was a 3 mile stretch one way, so going out and back put us hiking 6 miles. While this hike was half a mile shorter than yesterday’s and on the Mickelson Trail, which is much more level, the hard thing about this hike is that out of the 6 miles, approximately 5.5 of it was in the bright sunlight, with no shade to be found. We knew up front that it was going to be a tough hike.
We started our hike at the White Elephant Trailhead, so named because of a Feldspar mine across the highway that was named the White Elephant Mine. From there our hike took us on the uphill side of this portion of the trail. Our walk back would be mostly on the down slope…a good thing when you think of being more tired and hot.
When we came to the first real area of shade, which was a place where the builders of the 
railroad that used to occupy this trail, had found it necessary to cut through the rock for the tracks to go straight through it. Bob noticed a tree that had persevered in its fight for life by reaching through the cracks in the rocks to find the soil it needed. He found it interesting, and asked me to take a picture of it, but I saw something different…perseverance. That tree pushed itself through the little cracks in the rocks in order to live. It was fighting for its life.
As we walked along, I kept thinking about that little tree, and several others as we had seen along the way. Against all odds, they lived, because they never gave up…they persevered. As we sweltered in the heat of the late morning, going from shade source to shade source, we were thankful once again that we were experienced enough 
to have plenty of water…even if it was warm by this late point in the hike. The little tree stayed on my mind, and I began to see what perseverance is all about. Yes, the tree was fighting for its life, and I was just working toward the end of the trail. They weren’t even the same thing…or were they. In reality, we were both after the prize…the end of the race…the victory. Yes, that was it! We were alike, and like that little tree, I had the victory. The tree had life, and I persevered and made it to the end of another trail. With the completion of today’s hike, we have walked 48.3 miles of the 108.8 mile Mickelson…twice, since we walk out a ways and then back. That is a victory…that is perseverance.
Today, Bob and I went on a hike called the Iron Mountain Loop. It is a 5.1 mile easy to moderate trail that we found to be quite pleasant…except for that one hill. I’ll go into that more later. We began our hike thinking what a lovely day it was and what a nice change it was from the 90 degree days we had been having. Our first fork in the road put us onto the actual trail we wanted as it split from the Centennial Trail, which is a trail that is much more used. I thought about that old Robert Frost poem I had always loved, called “The Road Less Traveled” and felt, as I always do on the trail, like the adventure was just beginning.
Our hike continued along beautifully, and we were very much enjoying ourselves. Then the trail came to an end. There was another trail…much less traveled, that went to the right and to the left. Looking again at our trail book, I determined that the trail to the left would meet up with the Iron Creek Trail so we…or should I say, I decided that we should go that way. As we started down the trail, we immediately hoped that we would come upon the other trail, because having to come back up this hill would not be fun. The further we went down the hill, the more I began to think this was a mistake.
Finally, I decided to consult the trail book again. At that point, I realized that the Iron Creek Trail was probably right near where we were, but that was not going to be the easy way back to our car. We were going to have to go back up that hill we had just come down. The big problem I see here is that while I am an experienced hiker…I am an out of shape experienced hiker. I had now just turned and easy to moderate trail into an easy to moderately strenuous trail, and one that an out of shape experienced hiker was going to find…well, difficult!!
With a sigh, I told Bob we needed to go back up. After about 30 minutes, we finally made it to the top of that hill, and back to the trail we had come in on. While it was still easy to moderate, it seemed strenuous to our tired bodies. Finally, we got our second wind, and the trail became easier to maneuver. I can’t tell you how glad I was that we are experienced enough to have plenty of water. When we finally got back to our car, we felt tired, hot, and yet good about ourselves. Even though we were out of shape, we had made it 6.5 miles instead of 5.1, and part of it was very strenuous. I think we did really good…except for that one hill!!
The summer of 2012 could very well be known as Wildfire Summer. June has brought record high temperatures and more wildfires than ever before. Colorado Springs lost at least 350 homes in one neighborhood. At least one fire fighting plane has crashed killing most of the people on board. Tens of thousands of acres have been burned. Whole forests and wilderness areas close to being wiped out. It is such an awful situation. Rain seems to only exist in the areas that need it the least…like Florida. Each day I pray for rain for the areas that need it so badly, and for comfort for those who have lost so much.
If the summer of 2012 is Wildfire Summer, then 2009 would have to be known as Pine Beetle Summer. So many trees were lost on mountains, forests, and wilderness 
areas. As a hiker, the loss felt devastating to me. The beauty of the Black Hills that I love looks so scarred, and it makes me feel so very sad. It is hard to look at the dead trees when we were on the trails, without feeling the loss very deeply. Our annual hike to Harney Peak, though we will not be able to take it this year due to a lack of time to prepare, takes us right through the Black Elk Wilderness Area. I’m told that virtually all the trees in there have been killed by the Pine Beetles, and that makes my stomach churn. It is such a beautiful place…or was. What will it look like the next time I see it.
Then today, when we were on our hike, I saw something that made me realize that all is not lost. There in front of a stand of large trees was a row of smaller trees…the next generation of trees. It occurred to me that every year the pine trees drop their seeds as the pine cones mature. Those seeds fall to the ground, and somehow 
manage to get started in the process of growing a new tree. As each tree drops hundreds of new seeds every year, and those seeds form hundreds of new trees, the next generation of trees is born.
Looking around, I began to notice several different years of new trees that were different heights now. There were 4 or 5 different years worth of new growth that were visible along the sides of the road and trails. The forests are the same, of course. All around the downed and brown trees there is new growth. Yes it will take years to regrow it all, but it will return. Of that I have no doubt, because I have seen the hope of the next generation.
Every year Bob and I take time to rejuvenate in the Black Hills. It’s almost like the Black Hills is in my blood. This doesn’t really surprise me so much in that my dad has always loved the Black Hills, even before they were the big tourist attraction they are today. And he would not be alone in that either. Many people have come to the Black Hills since the Gold Rush days. Many came to find their fortune, and many did find it, but many did not, but once they came and saw the beauty of the Black Hills, they either stayed or, like us, they come back often.
Dad found the Black Hills to be so picturesque, that even before 
some of the landmarks that we now know so well, were finished, he took pictures to remember the beauty of the area. He wanted to always remember that beautiful place. I know just how he felt back then, because it is exactly how I feel today. I come here every year, and yet I never run out of beautiful sights to photograph so that I will be able to remember them always. I think that is because no matter how many times I come here, I will never be able to see all the Black Hills has to offer.
When we were kids, the Black Hills was a place we loved to go, and although we didn’t get to go as often and Bob and I do, we did get to go. They wanted us to see the show of patriotism that lives in the Black Hills too. Every Time I go to Mount Rushmore, I 
find myself in thinking of the men who are portrayed there, as well as the ones who carved the mountain. It was and always will be totally awesome to me.
Dad has left us now for Heaven, but his echo still remains in the Black Hills. Every Time I come here, I can hear his voice pointing out his favorite places to his wife and daughters. And when Bob and I hike the trails that run through the hills, I can imagine what my dad would think of the places we have gone. To my knowledge, he never hiked in the Black Hills, but I know without a doubt that he would have loved the places we have gone on our hikes.
A few years ago, Bob and I had the opportunity to take a trip to Canada that was an award from one of the companies I write insurance for. They had set up several things for us to do, such as hikes, an imitation Queen of England for us to meet, who was very good by the way, and even an animal exhibit, complete with birds you can’t even get close to normally. Canada was beautiful, and we had a wonderful time. We loved the hike we took, which ended at a waterfall, and there was also a river right behind our hotel that was running very high and made for a beautiful view as well.
One of the things that I enjoyed the most was the animals. They had a set of sled dogs that were just beautiful, and thankfully not like the mean one on the movie “Snow Dogs”. There was also a hawk and several other birds. But the one that most impressed me was the miniature owl. He was a Northern Pygmy Owl and he stood about 5″ or 6″ tall. He was so cute. I had the opportunity to actually hold him on my finger, and he willingly sat there. I would have thought he would have been skiddish, since they are a very timid owl. They normally hide as much as they can. Of course, I’m quite sure they aren’t timid when they are hunting at night, but then I suppose that there aren’t many humans out then either.
I did a little research on this littl owl, and found that when they get excited, they twitch 
their tail…and here I thought he was trying to keep his balance, hahahaha!! One thing that surprised me was how gentle he was while sitting on my finger. One would think that with claws like that he would have scratched or something, but he didn’t…and believe me, I was very grateful. His feet kind of tickled my finger, especially when he moved around a little, but I was so fascinated that it never occurred to me to feel nervous about what he would do. He was just too beautiful to take my eyes off of, and I had never expected to be able to actually hold an owl. Our trip was wonderful, and one I will never forget, and I am glad I have this picture to remember my moment with the Northern Pygmy Owl.
With graduation behind us for another year, the thoughts of many graduates turn to the traditional graduation trip. It is supposed to be the first step into real freedom the young adult takes. The trips can be as varied as the graduate taking them, and of course, the cost they can afford. My thoughts go back to my own graduation trip. I felt very blessed to be one of the few that got to take such a trip. When I graduated, the graduation trip was not the common thing to do, and in fact, I don’t know of any of my friends that took one. Nevertheless, my parents wanted to give me something special, while not just sending me off alone into the unknown. So, they arranged for me to fly out to my older sister, Cheryl’s house in Plattsburgh, New York, for the Christmas and New Years holidays.
I had never flown, much less flown alone, so this was a big deal for me! My flight was to take me to Chicago, Illinois, where I would change planes and fly on into New York City. My sister and her husband, at the time, would pick me up in New York City. I was very excited about this trip…and I felt very grown up, but at the same time a lot like a Kindergarten child on the first day of school. It was a really tough place to be. The flight was not really the thing that I was concerned about, but rather the change of flights. I believe I had 45 minutes or so between the flights, and I was worried that I would not get there in time.
When my flight arrived in Chicago, and after my initial surprise at the fact that the runway crossed over the highway, which I found very cool by the way, I began my journey over to the connecting flight’s gate…running!!! I’m quite sure I looked very much like the scared Kindergarten child I felt like, but that was something I didn’t really care about at the time. The thought of missing my flight and trying to figure out what to do about that all by myself, in Chicago, was not a prospect I relished,…so I ran. When I arrived at my gate, I found myself 30 minutes early…with nothing to do.
I thought about all the airport that I had run through and not bothered to look at…with a little bit of regret. Still, with only the 30 minutes left, I decided that I probably should stay right where I was. The rest of the trip went very smoothly and I had a wonderful time with my sister and her family. I think I really did some growing up at that time, and I can honestly say that I don’t run to the connecting flights anymore, although there have been a couple that we cut a little close. My graduation trip was a trip I will always remember, and forever be grateful to my parents for sending me on.
As summer begins, the thoughts of most kids turn to their favorite summertime activity…swimming. And swimming knows no age limit…young and old alike love to go swimming. When I was a little kid, we occasionally got to go to the park next to the grade school. There was a wading pool there, where all kids who couldn’t swim yet went to cool off in the summertime…and it was always packed. There was hardly any room to move sometimes, but it was cool and the day was hot, so you didn’t complain. That wading pool has long since been removed…partly because of some drain safety issues that we never had problems with, but I guess there were some in some other pools, and partly because of so many people buying the backyard wading pool. The backyard wading pool was just easier.
By the time my girls were born, there were no wading pools in town. We got them a wading pool as soon as they were old enough to walk, because it gave them something to do in the summer. We lived out in the country, and going to town for activities was a wasted day. They didn’t care about going to town, as long as they could play in their pool. The girls would spend hours out in that pool, and come in looking like prunes, but they always had such a good time. I think I loved the wading pool as much as they did, because is was a wonderful entertainer. All too soon though, the backyard wading pool became old news, and they wanted to go to the big pool in town…not that I can blame them, it was just that it meant that I had to make the trip to town to take them.
The backyard wading pool has never lost its charm, however. When my grandchildren were born, we found ourselves back in wading pool mode very quickly. It was great watching the grandkids play in their pool and having such a great time. The wading pools of today are much cooler that the ones we had when my girls were little. They have slides and other fancy things built into them. If we wanted a slide, we had to put the pool near our swing set. It worked, but today you don’t have to do that. I have often wondered how we ever managed without those pools, and how kids ever survived the hot summers. I guess we did have the sprinkler, but I don’t think it could really compare to the backyard wading pool.
Today is the last day of school in Casper. Some places go longer, and maybe some are out earlier, but for Casper, today is it. All the students are excitedly anticipating the end of the day that marks the beginning of summer vacation and…freedom!! I remember when I was in school, that last day seemed like the longest day of the year, and I liked school, so for kids who didn’t, it was worse…an eternity. The teachers spent most of the day wondering why they even had to come today, because other than the high school students who had finals, most of the classes consisted of watching movies, playing games, or picnics. The students have no books…those have been turned in, so the teacher couldn’t do any real lessons, and the students couldn’t study. It was and still is a wasted day, but the reality is that no matter what day is the last day, the result would be the same.
So, today is the last day. Some of my grandchildren finished up yesterday. Those who didn’t have finals today were able to skip today, and one who was just going to be watching movies didn’t go so his family could start the Memorial Day weekend early by going camping. There were a few kids that didn’t go the last day when I was in school too, and it fueled the whole “why do we even have to go today” syndrome in those of us who were left behind to complete the year. It makes sense to the adults that it doesn’t matter what day is the last day, it is a wasted day, but to the kids…especially the younger ones, it just doesn’t make sense.
As the school year ends, we are reminded that next year we will have 2 Juniors in high school, 1 Sophomore in high school, and on 8th grader in middle school. Where have the years gone? How can my little teeny grandbabies be such grown up people already? It is a stark reminder that time waits for no man…it simple marches on. Before we know it, these kids will be high school graduates, and out in the world, going forward to make their own way in it. We don’t know where their path will take them. Some of them have ideas and goals. Others don’t, and may not until they are graduates. Sometimes, life experiences show people without a doubt that they are perfect for one career or another, sometimes they have to explore some first. Time will tell.
But for today, they are simply moving into summer vacation and rejoicing in the chance to sit back and relax a little. Chris and Shai will be working this summer, of course, and 
Caalab will probably get a job when he turns 15 on the 25th of June. Josh will be the only one that doesn’t have a job yet, but I know he will do odd jobs for extra spending money, because that is the way he is too. As for the school year…well, for the summer at least it will have a distant place in the back of their minds…stored away until the fall, because this year is over. The clock moves forward to the final bell for this year…and it’s a wrap!!
