The Sandhills Summary

It was a short trip to the sandhills but a great time. I had to edit out some of the notes taken by Suz, but felt her email to us explained the trip well.

Suz wrote:

I believe about this time last week-end we were exercising in the truck with Nick if my memory serves me correctly...what a wonderful time we had!

Here's my notes from our visit:

The Corner Bar in Valentine has a questionable reputation but the people were really nice to us.

Slim has a calf named Jethro, a duck named Brownie and a dog that has to be tied up...darn!

Slim demonstrated why he got those great ribbons on his speeches - Abraham Lincoln and Barbwire. I am so proud of him!

Nick knows ranching! He knows how to do his job and he is appreciated by his bosses. We are not sure how he keeps it all straight and without any notes!

Angel is Angie's best friend and we quickly understood why. We left feeling we have known Angel all our lives. She is a terrific best friend and we are so glad she is there for Angie!

Angel's cucumber salad is excellent - a few cucumbers, onion, chives, philly cream cheese and garlic salt.

Angel had the fire a few years ago and got us all to think about safety and what are safety plan is and where are shoes, coats, flash lights, etc. should be hidden in case of a fire.

We did not get to meet Sally Jo who was busy potty training her 2 month old baby girl.

We had prune cake from Ree Drummond's Pioneer Women cookbook and it was excellent!

Janette spilled the beans on Dave's barbeque secret...it can be found at HyVee and is called Kyle's Sugar Rub and oh...it is at the meat counter.

Someone didn't understand why Nick couldn't light the grill.

We all understood a "no thank you" bite.

Angie's prayer on our final day came from her daily devotional book - Living Faith.

What a great week-end and just the right amount of time!

And then Theresa summed up our feelings.  Theresa wrote:

I can't stop laughing..... You nailed it Suz! It was truly an awesome time and I am looking forward to next year already!! The only thing I would have to add is through thick and thin we are there for each other..thanks for the laughs, the hugs, the tears, an open heart and ears that hear!! Only God knows what the upcoming year will bring, though we know we will be heading west next year...for another great adventure... Love you guys! Theresa

The trip left us knowing that Angie is in a place that she can truly call HOME!



Ang feeding Slims calf Jethro after the storm.
The rainbow proves Ang is home!



The Ranch in the Sandhills

We decided that Cow Country is Gods Country. The land and life are so much more simple than what any of us has ever known. I suppose for me the word simple should be the word complicated since the nearest grocery store is an hour away. I would need to plan a little better.

We had fun catching up on things and were treated to watching the young kids practice roping calves to prepare for the rodeo. Our friends husband took us for a tour of the ranch and how he keeps all those meadows straight is beyond me. You could hear the pride in his voice as he pointed out things and very patiently answered our questions.

I have no doubt in my mind that the next time I am near a cow giving birth, I will be able to reach up inside her and by feeling the calves hooves, know if it is trying to come out facing the right direction.  

Wait..... Let me re-word that.

 I have no doubt that I can instruct someone else to reach up in that cow butt and know that the hooves should be facing a certian direction.

Ranching may not be for me, but I did appreciate everything I saw.

We bounced all over that ranch for a good hour and loved every bit of it. How her son hung on in the bed of the truck I will never know, but he did a great job.

Even the heat of the morning was so much more better that the heat with the humidity that we are used to.We got to visit the 2 room school house that our friends son goes to. We also went to visit other families from the ranch (or the neighboring ranch) I get all that land a little mixed up. Our friend drove us up and down the one lane county road while honking at people she knew as they waved at her.

It is definitely a whole different way of life and perhaps not a life for everyone, but for our friend it is the perfect life.

The sandhills

Recently I went on a weekend trip with my friends, Theresa and Suz, to the Sand hills of Nebraska. We drove there in order to spend time with another friend, Ang, who lives there. 

 An interesting trip.

The drive began as a typical trip with good friends. We discussed everything from current events, small town gossip, family and faith. We were to meet our friend in Valentine Nebraska at Auntie D's Coffee Shop. Once we get there we make a b-line for the restrooms, only to find that we would need to walk down the street to a western wear shop. We pretended to be shopping for saddles and ropes, but I am sure they knew we were just there to use the facilities. Back at the coffee shop we walk around and wait. It is a really cute place, but clearly our friend was running late.  Suz found out that the owner of the shop knew our friend and asked that she tell Ang that we are across the street at the Corner Bar. Although the owner got a funny look on her face, she said she would pass along the message. Guess she was hoping to make a coffee sale.

There were a handful of people sitting inside the dark and dingy bar. Although it was a mutual decision that we would not use the restroom there (or put our hands on the table) the beer was cold. We were there long enough to get into a discussion with everyone there and found them all to be entertaining. When Ang finally makes her entrance to meet us, she was met with all of the patrons greeting her with shouts of "Here she is!!"

Ang accepts her drink from the waitress, leans her head low and very quietly says "this place does not have a good reputation" at which point Suz very loudly exclaims "But everyone is so nice here!!!!"

Turns out we were sitting in a strip joint!
Well....that explains the posters on the wall!

I for one would have paid top dollar to see Ang holding her head low and looking to see if anyone from her church was around to see her walk into the Corner Bar. We laughed, but every time Ang repeated this story to family and friends, they all looked shocked.  

And so the weekend began.......

Baby Bootie Hotline

My new grandson, Abel, spent his first night at home last night.

When I asked my daughter how the night went, her answer was that it was "sketchy"

That made me laugh. That also made me remember when we brought her home. In the middle of the night I placed her on our bed and asked my panic faced husband "now what?"

We eventually figured it out just like Abel's parents will.

But never fear, because what you can't figure out on your own....you can call and ask the

 Baby Bootie Hotline!

This was the phone number to the nurses at the hospital where my children were born,

and yes I called and called often.

 I will always remember the last time I used this phone number. I was completely at my wits end. I was trying unsuccessfully to nurse my beautiful baby and she was crying, and I was crying and my panic faced husband hid in the kitchen. In tears, I called the hotline and almost before those familiar words "Baby bootie hotline" were out of the nurses mouth, I began to sob out my story. I sprang into a high pitched tone voicing my feelings of my frustrations, my fears and my incompetence.  I was in the middle of my tirade explaining what I really thought of breast feeding, when I hear the nurse say "Janette?"  Wow, I must have really called them too many times, no wait....."Theresa?"  Yup, it was the voice of my life long friend Theresa at the other end of the line. If you know Theresa, you know she did not just say "Janette?" She said it with hint of laughter to her voice.  I was busted, she now knew I was a complete idiot.

To hear Theresa tell the story, while in the middle of my melt down I admitted to finding breast feeding repulsive. Did I really say that??? I am guessing so.  Basically she told me that if I didn't want to nurse, then don't do it. hmmm..."But my doctor thinks I am doing it, don't I have to wait to discuss it with him?"  Her answer was simple "She's your baby, you can do what ever you want."   The answer to my problem was so easy I could not even see it! She was my baby and I could make the decissions. That was the last time I felt the need to call the baby bootie hotline.

Over the years this story has been told and retold, and Theresa and I always laugh!

Small stuff

I have a really good friend, Darlene, that I miss all the time. Years ago she gave me a magnet that has been on my refrigerator for so long that sometimes I don't even see it anymore.

But then when I see it again I just smile.  It says:

Surrender to the fact that life isn't fair.

Don't sweat the small stuff.

This makes me smile because it had a special meaning that only her and I got,

and we could giggle together about.

Now I look at this magnet and tho I am smiling and feeling close to my friend, I can see the words in a different meaning. No, life is not fair, but life is life. And thinking about the fact that you can't sweat the small stuff and knowing that I have accepted this concept makes me see how much my family and I have healed. I am thankful for the fact that as I write on my blog, I can feel healing. I can see that maybe by the fact that I seem to write less often is also a healing thought.

The fishing hole

As mentioned before, when we were growing up we spent alot of our time in Sterling Nebraska.  Because my dads favorite hobby has always been fishing, we spent a lot of time at various ponds during these visits. There was always one favorite fishing hole that my dad would take me to. I suppose my mom and siblings would go there too, I just don't remember.

It took determination to get to this fishing spot. We would pile into the car and drive down the high way. Somehow my dad always knew the exact place to pull off on the side of the road and park. If my memory serves me correctly (and it may not, but this is my story so this is how I will choose to tell it) we would be on some sort of farmers road and have to walk. In case you don't know what a farmers road is, I will try to describe it. A farmers road is not really a road at all. It is just a spot by the farmers land where he could drive to get to the other side of the field. Generally he drove on this non road so often that there would be 2 tire paths in the weeds. So we would walk down this tire path farmer road with weeds as tall as I was and trees on each side that shaded us. In my memory I worked hard to keep up with my dad because I had to carry  all of the fishing poles, maybe even the tackle box.  We would get to the fishing hole down by the rail road tracks and I would have to stand in place while dad would walk on and check out the site before letting me continue on down to the water. One time I could hear all kinds of kids laughing so I asked my dad what the heck those kids were doing and why I always had to wait while he checked things out. He told me he was making sure that the kids were not skinny dipping. It never occurred to me until years later that maybe I would have wanted to see what skinny dippers looked like, but dad must have figured it was something I shouldn't see.

Finally after all that work we would be able to get started fishing. This little spot was more of a small creek shaded by trees with water so clear you could see the fish swimming around.  We used to catch fish after fish...again, my memory and maybe a small bit of a fish story, but I am sure we caught alot. When done, we would tromp back to the car. 

 Was this a great place to go to with my dad, or a great place to go because I went there with my dad?

Happy Birthday Dad, thanks for all the great memories.

Net

My ordinary Hero

Through out these last years of hardship, I have come to know and respect many people, one of which I will always view as a hero. At this moment I can see him rolling his eyes and completely ignoring the fact that I have referred to him as a hero. He is a relative on my husband's fathers side. I had seen this person only a very small number of times and had never spoken to him. People would point him out to me and always comment on the fact that he is the black sheep of the family. It would never be a comment that was made to be mean, just a fact. I laugh at that now because if I were to call him a black sheep he would not have that same roll of the eyes reaction he would have if I were to refer to him as a hero.

Once my son got into trouble, my mother-in-law suggested I contact this relative since he had gone through the same thing we were now experiencing. She called him and he told her to give me his phone number. The first time he came to our house to get my son, I will admit to having been extremely intimidated. This is a vary large man, well over 6 feet tall with a booming voice to match. He had an unlit cigar in the corner of his mouth, which I now know is as part of his wardrobe as are his shoes. He mentored my son and took him to AA meetings. He called and checked up on us and was viewed by us as a very good part of our family.  At the first meeting with our lawyer, it was suggested that we contact a person the attorney knew who "has turned AA into a religion." Who did he suggest you ask??   The very hero in which I am writing about.
I had also learned from friends that knew of him, that when he speaks at AA functions, people stand in line to hear him.

My hero came to my son's sentencing and sat right behind us. When the sentence was delivered, I heard a gasp from a woman behind us and I also heard my hero jump up and slam the court room door open. I did not look back to see this happen, I just remember that I knew it was him. And I remember being glad that someone had the reaction I wished I could have had, if I had not had the air knocked out of me and some sort of paralysis take over my entire body. I have heard my mother-in-law praise this relatives actions and am sure that she may be the reason he would no longer be referred to as the black sheep of the family.

(I do know for a fact that this label amused him).

I have heard from my hero a couple of times by phone, but had recently seen him while paying respect at an uncles funeral. My hero would never come forward in a crowd but instead, remains comfortable in the back. We made our way to him and what would be the first thing from his mouth?

"Come here and give me a hug"

followed by one of the biggest bear hugs I have ever gotten.

I call him a hero for the things he had done for my family. I call him an ordinary hero for the fact that he would honestly not understand why I would be grateful for anything he has ever done for us. 

Whether quietly standing in the back at a mortuary or slamming out of a court room,

I am in awe of this man.

Net