Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Thrift Stores

While visiting Grandma Cassens last weekend, it was imperative that we went shopping. And nothing is more exciting for Grandma than thrift store shopping, unless it would be garage sale shopping. It's a close call. Anyway, we went thrift store shopping, and Grandma bought Penelope a little old red car. It's the kind that she can sit on and 'drive' or she can stand up behind and push. Penelope LOVES it, and has been spending hours a day playing with it. Unfortunately she is a climber, and within two days has learned to stand up on the seat of the car while holding on with only one hand. And sometimes dancing while standing up and holding on with one arm. It's a long way down from there, but so far she hasn't tumbled.

Yesterday, our friends Tanner and Jace were over, and they immediately noticed there was something different. They saw that the car wasn't brand new, but since it wasn't here the last time they were, they were a bit confused.

Tanner: "How come you guys have an old car?"

Me: "Because it is from a thrift store."

Tanner: ....blank look

Me: "Do you know what a thrift store is?"

Tanner: "No"

Me: "It's a store where you can buy stuff that someone already used and didn't want anymore. Some other kid probably had this car and got too big for it so took it to the thrift store."

Tanner: "But why would you buy an old car?"

Me: "Well, Penelope's Grandma likes thrift stores, so she bought it there."

Tanner: "Why didn't she just buy a new one?"

Me: Sigh.... "Because Grandma Cassens has an unnatural obsession with thrift stores and buying something at full price at a normal store would be sacrilege."

Just kidding, I didn't say that. But you get the gist of the story. Tanner and Jace proceeded to pick up toys and other random objects and ask if they had come from this alleged place called a 'thrift' store.


Ready for Driver's Ed

Getting pushed by Jace


This girl has no fear.

A wildfire close to where we live

 Tanner, Jace & Penelope
Look at how well I can sit in the chair!

Monday, July 30, 2012

A few pics and Penelope update

Penelope is 10 months old now. The biggest developments are learning to walk and throw a tantrum. She is getting good at both. She has taken a little step a few times, and loves to stand up.

Here is Penelope with her friend Leah. They play together pretty well, other than stealing each other's pacifier. You can see P has one in her mouth and Leah's in her hand.


If you turn your head sideways you can see that Penelope has climbed into a kitchen drawer. She loves climbing, and got herself stuck in here.
 Penelope got to meet Great Grandpa Cloyd! Here is dinner at Jason & Colleen's. My aunt and uncle, Larry & Barb Cloyd were also there, as well as Walt & Linda Weeda.
 P got to play with her cousin Jaxon again. They no longer look like twins though!
I apologize for the blurring phone pictures. Someday I will buy a small camera AND remember to take it with me places.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Eat, Drink, and be Basque

Yesterday we went to the annual Basque festival. A lot of the families around here are descendants of Basque sheepherders that came the area years ago. Basque is an area in Northern Spain/Southern France with their own language, traditions and culture. At the festival we saw dancing, woodcutting, and strong man demonstrations. It was refreshing to see people that took some pride in their heritage and took a weekend to remember that heritage and relax with their large extended families. 

At the festival we ate the prepared picnic: Lamb, tri-tip, paella, stew, salad, beans, cake and bread. It was all pretty good. A lot of the large families were bringing their own picnic, and sat around picnic tables in the park with lots of food and drink to share. 

Here in town, there are Basque restaurants. It is definitely an experience worth your time. Especially if you like garlic. If you don't like garlic, you probably shouldn't go, and you should stay away from anyone who has eaten there for several days. Once you order at a Basque restaurant, everything but your meal is served 'family style.' First you get a large bowl full of cabbage soup. It sounds bland, but I think it's quite tasty. Next is a large bowl of salad - iceberg drenched in a very garlicky dressing. There is soft Italian bread to go with. Around the time your meal arrives, they bring five side dishes. Yes, five: Green beans, baked beans, garbanzo beans, spaghetti, and French fries. I guess Basques have a thing for beans. Now, if you think you might be getting full, they bring out your meal. Steak, prawns, lobster, crab, lamb, fish, etc. Some of the food is done with lots of paprika, sometimes very spicy. If you order a steak, it comes with about 2 bulbs of sautéed garlic. There's always dessert if you are still hungry, or want to see if your stomach will burst from eating so much food. Basque restaurants also make a few drinks that you probably won't find anywhere else. A Picon Punch is popular, along with a Kalimotxo (cali-mocho), which is red wine, Coke, and lime. 

Once we ate our picnic at the festival, there was lots of Basque dancing. Lots of little girls and boys, and also adults, who were quite good. One of the dances was all men - and I thought it was pretty good. One guy did all these intricate dances while in a horse costume. Or camel, I'm not sure which. I was impressed. One of the dances required each dancer to tip-tap around a full wine glass, without knocking it over. Lots of the dances used hoops, sticks or flags. Later some burly bearded Basques demonstrated lifting 230-250 pound objects - a cube, a ball and a cylinder. Then a strong guy did a demonstration in wood-cutting with an ax. Only after a few minutes, I realized it was not a guy, but a very buff girl! 

We left before what must be the grand finale. Above the dancing area was a red keg hanging. The announcer told us that it was sort of like a piñata, only when Basques make a piñata, it isn't filled with candy, but beer. Later on, he promised, the key would be punctured to spray beer down to the Basques, and if you a good Basque, you would catch a spray of beer in your mouth. 

 Two little Basques
 The Keg
 Woodcutter
 Dancing around the wine glass


 Burly guys
 Jen, P and Wayne
 I caught Jen making silly faces at P...hehe:)
 Guy dancing in horse. Or Camel, whichever.


Monday, July 9, 2012

Confessions of a Ranch Girl: "Something's rattling in the freezer."

I am currently reading what has become my favorite book of all time. It has had me in hysterics and soon thereafter bawling like a person with manic depression. I am not revealing the title of this book, for fear someone has or will read it, and will thereafter never look me in the eye again. Anyway, this book has inspired me to write more about a subject that doesn't seem all that interesting to me: My childhood. After reading this book, I realize how funny things are several years after they happen. After you've been out in the great wide world awhile, you also realize certain things, like how odd it really was that your dad had a collection of snakes in the freezer.

I am not trying to insinuate that my parents 'ruined' me or that I had a 'traumatic' childhood. That is unless you think living with snakes in your freezer is traumatic. Plus if I tell any stories too offensive, my parents can just shake their heads and say something like, "She was too young to remember....it didn't happen that way at all," or "You know, she really wasn't the same after she fell off the barn on her head."

So back to the snakes in the freezer part. That wasn't just a attention grabbing line to keep you reading. When I was growing up, we had real snakes in a real freezer. Lots of them. Although I am terrified of rattlesnakes, frozen or unfrozen, my dad is apparently obsessed with them. Whenever we saw a rattlesnake, whether we were in the car driving or riding horse in the pasture, dad would catch the snake and bring it home.

It takes some skill (and luck) to catch a rattlesnake. I have never attempted this, but after seeing it done many times I consider myself a bit of an expert. First off, you MUST be wearing tall leather cowboy boots. Apparently rattlesnakes can't bite through leather, and if when they strike at you, you won't have to rush to the emergency room to get the anti venom. Next you walk up to the snake and say, "Here, snaky snaky snake," real nice and gentle, so they will be calm. Just kidding. Once you walk up to the snake they get angry, coil and make a loud eery rattling noise. To this day I hate grasshoppers because they make a sound similar to a rattlesnake. So now while the snake is curling around, you find an opportunity to step on its neck with the heel of your cowboy boot. Once this is done, you take a few deep breaths, reach down, and grab the snake right behind the mouth, thus prying the mouth open. Sort of like when you catch an alligator, if you pry its mouth open it can't bite you. Not that I have experience catching alligators either. But you get the idea. Now you have to transport the snake home. Sometimes this entailed my dad driving the vehicle with one hand and the other hand out the window dangling a snake. Once home, dad would put the snake carefully into an old gallon ice cream bucket, shut the lid, and stick it in the freezer.

Rumor has it, if you freeze the snake for less than 24 hours, the snake will come back to life when you thaw it. I think we tried this theory out once, but that memory actually does fall under the 'she was too young to remember' category, so I won't divulge upon that story.

So normally we would have 5-10 nicely preserved rattlesnakes in the freezer. I have no idea why this was the preferred way of killing them. Every once in a while, when dad was gone, mom would be getting something out of the freezer for dinner (yes, the SAME freezer that the snakes were in) and say "There are too many snakes in here...Scott, go bury some of these in the yard, your dad will never know." And the  freezer would soon be re-stocked with fresh rattlesnakes.

These frozen snakes had no real purpose or use other than occasionally fertilizing the yard. They were often brought out when we had guests, who would either be intrigued or terrified, and for some reason decline any food that was offered to them. When dad started a conversation with, "Hey, I got something to show you," I learned to cringe and leave the room.

I was always terrified of rattlesnakes, because you can actually die from their poison. According to modern medicine or rancher lore, I'm not sure which, you had two hours to get the anti venom before you keeled over. From our ranch house, it was a good hour to a small hospital where they might have carried the anti venom. If they didn't, it was TWO hours to the regional hospital. So when we were far out in the pasture, I was perpetually nervous about getting bitten, and glad that my mother was known for breaking a few speed limits now and then.

One summer Scott and my uncle David, decided to keep two rattlesnakes as pets. They made a cage in which I hoped was secure enough to keep the snakes inside. Another summer I barely slept at night after finding a live garter snake in my room. Speaking of snakes in my room, recently I was back home visiting, when I snooped in my old room to see what was there. On the closet in my room, on a shelf was a box. On top of that box was....umm....a small snake skeleton, all nice and neat. I have no recollection of it being there before, and that is something I definitely would have noticed. I have come to the conclusion that either a) one of my brothers put a frozen rattlesnake in my closet to scare the wits out of me b) it was just another live snake in my room, that died there and decomposed. Either scenario would be entirely possible.

Other things that might be found in our freezer: Vegetables from the 1980's (mom, just throw it out!), deer capes (the skin used to mount a deer head), and elk antlers (I'll save that for another story).

Another time when I was back home, dad and I were trying to find space in a freezer to put some meat in. We were in what we called the bunkhouse, a small building next to our house that was possibly once a garage, once a home and now mostly used for storage. There was a freezer in the bunkhouse, and dad opened it up to take a peek. It was pretty full. Dad mumbled a series of "humph's" and looked around until he pulled out a feed sack, said, "What do you spose this is?" and pulled out an entire antelope head, complete with large horns. For some reason I wasn't surprised, and seconds later looked at our feet and said, "Dad, there's a dead cat in here." There on the floor was a dead cat. I'm not making this up. Dad looked over and said, "Aww, I wonder how that got in here. That was my favorite one!" My dad saying he has a favorite cat is like a normal person saying they have a favorite sickness. As in, "That time I got pneumonia was my favorite!" So dad grabbed the dead cat and did what he did to all good pets on the ranch - threw it over the fence.

Somehow I survived childhood without ever being bitten by a snake. And now if you ever witness me doing something that normal people would consider 'weird' or 'odd' you can just tsk softly and say, "Well you know, she grew up with snakes in the freezer."

Sunday, July 8, 2012

4th of July

We spent most of the last week at the reservoir near us. Four other families from around here camped together with us. They all had very nice campers and we had our rusty trusty tent. We had lots of fun playing in the water, grilling, and sitting around the campfire. There were 9 kids under the age of 10, so Penelope fit right in, and was given lots of attention. Here are some pictures.

 Penelope woke up hours before anyone else in the camp was stirring. In the pic below there are two deer near the water in the early morning.
 Penelope loves her floaty. Someday I will remember to return it to you Marsha!! Meanwhile, thanks for letting us use it:)

 The beach isn't the best, very rocky and no shade, but hey, we have a view of the mountains.
 Penelope loved Aubrey almost as much as Aubrey loves her. This picture looks like Penelope isn't very happy, but she was. Aubrey was terribly let down if Penelope was sleeping and couldn't play. Aubrey was a great big sister to her.

 Penelope & Carson. Carson was born one day before Penelope in the same hospital! Her favorite trick is to bop other babies on the head, then squeeze and pull their hair. We need to learn a little song about a little bunny Phoo-Phoo.
 Penelope and Daisy, the sweet little Boston Terrier.
Todd & Dini sharing the nice shade of their camper.

 Penelope at home.

Penelope loves to sit inside the bookshelf.
 This pic I forgot to post earlier. I thought it was pretty cute.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

My husband is the best man in the whole world!

Yes, I am serious. No poking jokes at Wayne in this post. We recently decided that one day a week Wayne will watch Penelope exclusively for half of a day, and I can do whatever I want. Usually it is Saturday morning and usually I just end up cleaning, doing laundry or gardening. Which is a treat to be able to do without a baby on my hip. This delightful happening occurred for a few weeks, then we were busy and doing other things for a few weeks and it didn't happen. This week we have been camping and Wayne has been enjoying a few days off over the holiday. But yesterday we were tired of the lake and came home. Wayne volunteered to watch her for the remainder of the day so I could unload and unpack the three tons of equipment we had for camping. AND then he suggested that he also watch her Saturday morning so I could do something fun!! He knows me pretty well by now, and knew that yesterday I would just do non-fun stuff.

Yesterday afternoon I took a nap when Penelope did. After an hour she woke up and I remembered that Wayne was watching her. So I rolled over and went back to sleep! I woke up later, rolled over and fell asleep again. What bliss!

So this morning I am at Starbucks enjoying myself! I brought a book and my computer. Is there any laws limiting the number of baked treats you buy and eat at Starbucks?

Here are the drawbacks: 1) I miss them. I keep wondering if Penelope has taken a nap by now and if Wayne needs any of my expert advice yet. But I don't call and enjoy my coffee. 2) There are weird people at Starbucks. Like the 60 year old man that just came in with his arms around what looked like a 20 year old girl. Or the group that are playing gothic games in the corner. There is a large chain of some sort laying on their table. Maybe it is a medieval chain mail. I hope they didn't bring their swords. There is comfort in knowing that if my life dissolves, there will always be someone at a coffee shop with whom I can fit in with.

So now that I am caught up on my sleep and caffeine, I am going to sign off and do some online shopping or read a book. Or sleep some more. Thanks honey.
Browse our travel blog at www.worldgallivanter.blogspot.com.