My First Christmas

Now that Christmas is over, my mom says it would be a good idea to tell everyone what our first Christmas as a family was like. Since Mom is busy with laundry and cooking dinner and boring stuff like that I volunteered to write this blog. Besides, if left it up my Mom, who knows if this blog would ever get written!

We had a really nice Christmas. To be quite honest, I didn't exactly know what Christmas was in the beginning, but Mom told me the whole story so I get it. It's a pretty neat story. I especially liked the part about the little baby being born in a manger (which Mom said was kind of like Dad's barn) with all the animals around.

Anyway, our little Christmas starting off with a strange letter coming in the mail for me. The return address said it came from the North Pole. When we opened it, we found out it was a letter from Santa Claus. Of course, Mom had to tell me the who he was, but she read me the Night Before Christmas. I think he sounds really neat and from now on, I'm going to try my hardest to be a good little boy every year.

After I got the letter from Santa, I got even more mail. My Mom's friend Kayla sent me a really cool Christmas stocking that had my name on it! I really like it and on Christmas when we got home from Grandma and Grandpa Wobig's house, I discovered there were some little toys and book in it!

Speaking of Grandma and Grandpa; Mom, Dad, and I spent Christmas Eve with Grandma Cindy, Grandpa John, Uncle Jake, and Great-Grandma and Grandpa Peterson. We had lots of fun. There were lots of cool decorations and cookies. Everyone but me and Mom ate Oyster stew. (Mom was feeding me instead, but she told me, secretly, that she didn't really mind missing the oyster stew all that much) Then, after dinner, we all opened lots of presents - well, everyone but me and Grandma Cindy and Great-Grandpa Carroll. We looked at the shiny lights instead. Mom and Dad opened my presents for me. I got lots and lots of cool books and rattles and toys.

Grandma says I'm the most kissed kid in Cherry County - at least since Uncle Jake and Mom were little!

The next morning, we got up and found our stockings were full and Santa had come just like he said! Then, Grandma and Grandpa, Uncle Jake, Mom and Great-Grandma Jean worked hard on Christmas dinner while Dad and Great-Grandpa Carroll entertained me. My big cousins Scott and Kevin and Great Uncle Randy and Great Aunt Lana came for dinner.

Mom took this picture of one of Grandma's kitchen counters. Mom thought it was funny that it was covered with nothing but wine, pies, and lots of Christmas cookies and candies, because, she says that's just what we do this family.

I guess it was all really good, but I decided to take a nap instead.

After dinner we went into Great-Grandma Betty's house in town to see my Dad's family. I hung out with Grandpa Bob, Aunt Joyce, and Great-Grandma Lois for awhile. Then I spent some time with my aunt's Tara and Tracy. And no, you're not seeing double (like I thought for a minute!) they're twins! I know, it's crazy, isn't it!

My Dad, and Uncles Aaron and Oliver thought so too!

After a day as crazy as all that, Mom and Dad and I went home in my Mom's Christmas present

to the ranch where we settled in to have our own little Christmas together. It was fun. I laid under the Christmas tree for a little bit to look at the lights, then we all went to bed.

That's it. That's our whole Christmas. Mom says to wish everyone a happy new year, so Happy New Year everybody!

A Time For Everything

Ecclesiates 3:1 says "There's a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven."

Those words were especially poignant in our growing family this weekend. Nick's grandpa Don passed away earlier this week. His funeral was Saturday, however Nick and I didn't quite make it.

Instead, we made a surprise visit to the hospital. At the very moment so many were gathered to honor the life of an old cowboy, a brand new little cowboy came into the world.

Welcome Connor Paul Simmons!

Born November 20, 2010 2:39 p.m.

6 lbs 9 oz, 20 inches

Nostalgia

I've probably mentioned how much I love fall. And while it's not officially fall yet - there are days where you can almost feel it coming. With it comes all the things I love about it: the changing colors, cool, crisp mornings, rainy afternoons or evenings, and pumpkin flavored delicasies begin to show up again. (I have my priorities you know)

One of the things I've always liked about this time of year was that when I was younger, my grandma Jessie would dry apples and peaches. Especially the apples. Every year when August turned into September, Grandma and my aunt would set up their food dehydrator in a little shed next to a garage across from her house. She once told me it was futile to dry anything if I was visiting since the trays would always come out empty as far back as I could reach. Nevertheless, I always got a couple of bags of apples, and usually one of peaches, for my birthday. These days, it doesn't ever matter how long she's been gone, September rolls around and I'm remembering Grandma's dried fruit.

I have Grandma's dehydrator now, so it was fortuitous that this year I heard an add on the radio that a local greenhouse was taking orders to bring in apples and Colorado peaches. I ordered a case of each, then spent last weekend peeling, slicing, and drying peaches and apples.

Grandma Jessie would be proud.

Wild Wild West

A while back Nick and I took a little mini-vacation to Rapid City and the Black Hills. We decided to try a new hotel/lodge that was built in Custer State Park. Before we left I told a friend of mine that it was the kind of place where we were liable to find a buffalo looking in the window.

As it turns out, I didn't know how true of a statement that actually was.

And we got to our room, I found myself in the closest proximity to a buffalo I think I'd ever been.

Disclaimer:

Do Not try this without a window and at least half a wall between yourself and the buffalo

What I take for granted

Last week, my old college roommate, who happens to be one of my best buds put herself and the youngest of her three daughters on an airplane in Texas and, after a layover in Denver, a bumpy landing in Rapid City, SD, and looonngg car ride south, ended up at Eli Road for a few days visit. For some cute pics from this little excursion, check out: http://www.ourtexastrio.blogspot.com

My good friend grew up, collectively, outside Spokane, WA, in Overton, KS, and Lincoln, NE. She and her family of cuties are now in a very urban part of Texas, and they are, understandably, slightly more accustomed to the city life. It was great fun to show her around. Katie and I always have fun together, and the addition of her 15 month old daughter only added to the good times. But as we bumped around the ranch with Eva happily bouncing in her carseat and "singing" along with country music on the radio, it occurred to me that that are a lot of things I take for granted out here at Eli Road.

For instance, I learned that I take for granted:

1. Waking up every morning and looking out every evening to see deer, turkeys, coyotes, or other wild animals wandering around the meadow. I spend most of my time thinking about what a nuisance they can be and I forget what a unique blessing wildlife actually is.

2. Little kids in cities or large urban areas often don't get to grow up around muddy river banks. At least not relatively safe, unpolluted ones. They may be pretty grown up before they really know how wonderful it can be to squish your fingers and toes in good, clean mud. (and that's if they ever do!)

3. Not everyone has a family full of women who made it a point to be certain that every female (yes, we can be a little gender biased out here) born or married into the family knows how to make a homemade pie crust. Even if it takes a lot of practice, frustration, and even some temper tears on the first try!

4. A big, lovable, but clumsy black dog can come across as something more akin to a black bear to a little girl who had never seen such a thing before. (Thankfully she recovered quickly - I don't think she'll be scarred for life....)

5. Having access to good, fresh foods either straight out of the garden when in season, or preserved with an expert's hand - like my mother-in-law's famous pickles - should not be taken lightly. Especially when threatened by billions of mutant grasshoppers.

6. Sometimes it's nice to be in a place where no one can reach you on a cell phone. It forces people to decide whether it's really important enough to bother calling on the landline.

7. Investing in bug spray can save your sanity and your arms/legs from itchy little reddish/purplish sores.

8. Horses and cows happily grazing in a pasture, watching a husband and his neighbors busily cutting and baling hay, and driving around a ranch for no other reason that to just see what's out there can make for great entertainment.

Ankle Deep

It's been a long, slow winter. (Which is part of the reason for my recent lack of blogs. The other part being, of course, laziness) But it's also been a very cold and snowy winter. So imagine our delight when the mercury rose just high enough over the last two days to hit the fifty degree mark.

But, one should also remember that with warmer weather, comes new challenges. For instance, take the following equation:

4 months of near constant snow and single digit temperatures + 2 days of 50 degree weather =

Yeah...that. And we're not just talking about regular mud, this is a very specific mixture of wet dirt, broken down bits of hay and silage, and of course, cow poo. It's thick, it's wet and slippery, it's deep. The kind of stuff you sink into.

Today, Nick managed to get his tractor and feed wagon stuck while feeding the cows. So while I'm sipping my Saturday morning cup of coffee while reading the news on the internet, Nick comes trudging into the house with one of my least favorite phrases, "Jaammii, Can you come help me?"

So up I go, throwing on a pair of jeans, shoving my hair into a ponytail, and faithfully following my favorite rancher to make my best effort at getting him unstuck. Apparently the plan is this: He'll take another tractor and I'm to follow in the infamous little white pickup. He's going to try to pull the feed wagon sideways to get it out. If that fails, I'm to get in the big tractor and try to drive it one direction or another while he pulls some more. If that fails, well, then he'll have to come up with a new plan.

Now, before I go any farther, I should mention one more thing. I don't know how to drive a tractor. I know, I know, that sounds terrible coming from a "ranch wife." The thing is, before Nick and I got married, one of my great-aunt's (with more than probably 50 years worth of ranch wife experience) gave me a piece of advice. "Never learn how to drive a tractor," she said. "The minute you do, you'll be expected to do it all the time."

This is advice I've taken to heart, and for more than 3 years I've avoided any lessons in operating a John Deere anything. I knew it would never last however, and today, I got my first lesson. Fortunately, the feed wagon wasn't stuck as bad as Nick thought, so my lesson was a short one - consisting only of learning how to drive approximately one foot forward and one foot backward. I'm just hoping we haven't opened Pandora's Box.

Nick trying to decide which of his plans seemed most likely to work.

At some point Gimli materialized. Presumably, he came to check on what we were doing, but seeing as he's afraid of cows, he elected to jump into the back of the little white pickup and watch.