I was the baby of the bunch...

Casa Del Sol Resort allows no one under 55 years young. It caters to those who ride in golf carts, who wear socks with their sandels, who know who the Ink Spots are, and who can play Bocce. That's pronounced "botch-y" - and that's what happens if you hook your ball.

But you will notice the envy on the face of the observer. She was watching closely to see just how I kept that wrist cocked - in case I actually hit the target. These old folks are serious about their bocce, they keep a score board and everything. Wait a minute - I am NOT old. Just 'cuz bocce is played by those wizened old Italian guys, that doesn't mean I'm OLD. Does it?

There's something missing, you say??

You got snow? No snow on THESE trees, you'll notice.

Or this one, either. That would give a whole different spin to "frozen orange juice".




Ummmm, smell that orangey-ness?
I did mention I was headed for Phoenix, didn't I? Yep, I did. If you missed that, repent and go read the previous blogs.
Anyway, this lovely little orange tree is in my friend's backyard. 10 steps from the door. 20 steps from the door I got the sunset shot. WITH PALM TREES, you'll observe. Proof that I'm no longer in Iceland.
I'm not even going to mention the temperature, it will just make you jealous - and twitchy with longing to travel.
Especially if you are in Wisconsin. And planning on attending the Packer game. Hope you have seat warmers - heh, heh.

Wisconsin Winter Toys

There are a few things that almost every household in Wisconsin have in common: swimming pools, barbeques, showshovels and snowblowers, Packer attire, and SNOWMOBILES. The Wright family are now official Wisconsinites - they have acquired snowmobiles, thanks to a special family that love them beyond measure. And they only cost a weekly double batch of chocolate chip cookies for the rest of their lives.
Riding at the cabin, on 40 acres, provides more scope for trying out their new toys. At the home farm, they are limited to a puny 5 acre track in a boring circle. At the cabin, there are HILLS and BUMPS, and TREES to dodge, and mostly lots of room for misjudgements of how fast you were really going...
The three older kids can ride alone, taking turns between riding and then coming in for hot cocoa (with marshmellows) while the next kid goes out to see how cold they can get riding the snowmobile before their nose pops off like a broken icicle. The three younger punks ride with mom and dad. But it's still fun!
This may look like a snoozle, whispering sweet nothings in her rosy ear. Not so. They have their heads together to decide who is taking Max next, and they have TO SHOUT BECAUSE THOSE MACHINES ARE NOISY, DONCHA KNOW?!!
Lee: "I'm Mom's favorite son, she tells me so all the time! It's because I'm so danged cute, I'm irresistable, I'm the sparkle in her life, I'm the only one who never causes her any trips to the doctor. Well, there was that one - um, maybe two - three? really? - trips to the dentist. Last time was when I knocked the corner off my tooth. I didn't mean to. The same tooth that grew in to replace the whole tooth I knocked out a couple of years ago when I was little. I didn't mean to. I'm 8 now. And I'm her favorite, did I tell you? Yeah, her very favorite son! Yep, that's me!"

And heeeeere's Max.
"They just THINK I don't know how to run dis here ting, I'm all over it, you betcha!"

"...it's on the left..."

I overheard Carrie giving directions to her home the other day. Go up the highway to this road, turn left (well, if you go right you're in the lake), go a couple miles, and we're the big white farm house on the left, with red barns around it.



I checked. Every farm in a three-mile radius has an old white farm house with red barns.
But her friend did actually find her. She's a native - she understands Wisconsin farm country directions. We're still learning.

Pizza-Pink Pony Pinata Party

Birthday parties in a large family are occasions of great anticipation, preparation, hilarity and thanksgiving - the kid survived another year (and so did the parents). Max has been telling us for so long that his birthday was next, that by the time it got here he was convinced he was six, not four. And he doesn't change his mind easily. More like not at all. SO glad I'm the grandma, not the parent.
Max's mission in life is to be involved, to the greatest degree he can finagle, in everything that happens within his realm. Like making cakes. And frosting them.

Actually, Brent, the Greatest Daddy in the Whole Wide World, created the pony cake (as resident engineer, we turn over all things needing assembly to him) as noted in Carrie's blog. But Max certainly had a hand -er- tongue - in the frosting!
Yep, that candle says "four". And there are FOUR sparkler candles. But he's six, doncha know.
And by gum, if someone has put a fork AND a spoon by a plate, they both need to be used!
Happy Birthday, Max - we love you tonsies!

(Yah, yah, I know. Not one picture of Pizza or Pink Pony Pinata. So I fibbed, that was a come-on, a "hook" to get you to read the blog. But there really was Pizza. And a Pink Pony Pinata. That's Carrie's blog. Or come on over and watch the side-splitting (literally) video of the the Pinata Massacre.)

Winter in Wisconson

Whispery snow fall. Silence. Introspection.

As I look at this collection of winter memories, I am filled with peace and awe, love for my God, and gratefulness to experience Wisconsin in winter.

NOTE: if you double click on any photo, it will enlarge to fill your screen. To go back to the blog to view more, click on BACK on your webpage, don't click on the red X or you will leave the blogsite. Enjoy.

Phonics doesn't help..

In a previous post, I mentioned the settlers of Wisconsin and their strong influence on the spoken language requiring daily deciphering. For instance: the headstone spells HLINAK. Now one would assume, phonetically, that it would be pronounced Huh-line-ack. Right? Wrong. It's LIN-YAK.
This one's easier. HOLLY. Pronounced Haul-ee. See? I'm becoming a proficient speaker of the native language.

The religions that came with the settlers from their natives lands included Lutheran, Catholic, and Jewish. I'm pretty sure the Lutherans outnumber the Catholics, if you count who's left after inventory of cemetaries..
Hmmm. KRCMA. Haven't figured that one out yet. I need to check with my native-born neighbors - the main source of all my knowledge of things Wisconsinish. Including my neighbor's accent that I thought was Polish, but turns out to be just "native Wisconsin". I find it intriguing that the accent is stronger in men than women, especially older men.
And then there's the fact that I simply love old cemetaries, snow, and holiday wreaths with bright red ribbon.

Squirrel history

True to my promise to impart some Wisconsin history, grab a cup of cocoa (with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon), put a pillow on your chair (but don't get so comfy you go to sleep halfway through this - I'll be very unhappy after doing all this research on my newly adopted state), and prepare to ENJOY a brief history lesson. If you didn't like history as a kid, too bad. This is good for you.
Ahem. Wisconsin's varied Indian tribes in the 17th century included some names you will certainly recognize: Winnebago (not Mini Winnies, either), Kickapoo, Potawatomi (doesn't that just roll off the tongue), Dakota, Fox, Sac, Ojibwa (ha! let's hear you pronounce that one!) This is for those of you who have found humor in trying to pronounce Puyallup (Washington's most mis-pronounced name - be grateful you don't live in Puyallup. Although Oregon's Willamette, Tillamook, Neah-Kah-Nie were all routinely mangled by sports announcers in my distant youth). But I digress.
The first explorers (Jean Nicolet) were French, in search of the NW Passage. Instead, the fur trade became the hot commodity of the region. In fact, Green Bay, as a fur-trading center, was a well-known name in Europe long before the Packers of current fame were a glimmer in Earl "Curley" Lambeau's eye. France lost possession to Great Britain during the French and Indian War, then Great Britain lost their claim as a result of the treaty ending the American Revolution. The fur trade continued as the economic foundation all during this era. See, your high school history DID sink in, you remembered about the fur trade, didn't you - admit it!
Anyway, in the 1820's the first wave of settlers came, for the lead mining boom (now I don't blame you if you didn't remember that one, I didn't even know you mined lead - I thought you got it at the hardware store in the form of sinkers for trout fishing...). This was also the beginning of the end for the tribes, who were uprooted and mostly sent west of the Mississippi. The Black Hawk War, prompted by the attempted return of the Sac people, ended with the Bad Axe massacre with less than 1000 Indians surviving. But, as in so many other states, the current tribal members, remnants of the tribes who negotiated reservations, are flourishing with large gambling operations. Boon or bane, decide for yourself.
The second wave of settlers resulted in the formation of WI Territory organized in 1836. Around 1840, a third wave ensued, drawn by the good farm land. These hardy folks made WI the nation's leading wheat producer. In 1848 WI became the Union's 30th state.
Now I have to comment on these settlers, because they are the basis of the "interesting" patois of language you have to decipher when you are not native-born. They came from all over Europe, bringing rich customs, cultural oddities, and particularly language in the form of accents that make conversation with our neighbors very - um, entertaining, uncomprehensive, baffling - well, we do try, and we're gradually assimulating some of it, doncha know! Poland, Germany, all the Scandinavian countries, and one in particular that affects us right here on the farm, Ukraine. More on that another time.
Now for the fun stuff. The Badger State's motto is "Forward", which is a head scratcher in some ways. We have found folks (and I'm talkin' born-and-bred, not us intruders so much) prone to an attitude of "We're doing it dis way 'cuz dat's da way it's always been done." But the medical community, PTL, is very progressive, some of the best in the nation.
The State Beverage (who knew) is Milk, but I think that's incorrect because any Packer Backer will go the the grave proclaiming it's BEER!
SIDE NOTE: the Packers and the SeaHawks are facing off this afternoon, with snow flurries for decoration. There was a Packer Pep Rally yesterday, and 10,000 die-hard fans showed up! This was after the seats were snow shoveled - anyone can show up for that duty, $8/hr. There's my extra chocolate money! Oh, wait -I'm headed for Phoenix in a few days.
Back to titillating facts. Hey, did you know the American Water Spaniel is one of only 5 dog breeds native to the US? As the only one native to Wisconsin, of course it is the State Dog.
Betcha you can guess the state dance - no? Polka, of course! A requisite for any wedding reception, doncha know! Dat der dance was the highlight of a party two farms down the road from us (that's how you measure distance here) last summer, we got to listen to top quality LIVE polka music for several hours - really had our toes twitching...
And if you don't know the State Song, bow your head in shame and be flogged with string cheese - "On Wisconsin" is a required piece for any high school band in the nation - ask Amanda.
State Wildlife Animal? Corn fed White Tail Deer. Also the source of car insurance rates being higher in the rural areas rather than suburban, as in more civilized states. Rates are figured by the number of deer strikes per 1/4 mile - no lie! One good thing, though. If you and your vehicle survive, and the deer doesn't, you can haul it into a Wildlife Check station, usually the nearest gas station, get it stamped, and take it home for the freezer! In fact, Brent went out of his way to prove the efficacy of this method of hunting vs shooting, by bagging a nice 6-point just before New Year's, with only one headlight and a minor hood dent involved on the pick-up. Nice!
Well, that's enough for today, don't want to burn out your dendrites in one sitting. Did you figure out the title yet? Squirrel history - history in a nutshell. Ha! Gotcha!
If the Packer's win, I'll treat you to a post on how they got their name. And why the whole state is wall-papered in green-and-gold. Pray for the Seahawks....

Snowbirds...

Some of our neighbors go south for the winter. Pansies.

I suppose, since I seem to be knitting slippers and scarves for everyone in the family, I could alter some patterns - wonder if I could make 5-fingered gloves into 3-toed slippers - hmmmm.

And itty-bitty scarves wouldn't take NEARLY as much time to knit - but I'd have to use size 2 needles instead of size 13 - ACK!

Home is Where the Heart is....

How do you like the Cabin??? Pretty swank, if I do say so...

Just kidding. Here's the real thing! This view is from the path to the chicken house (more on that particular project from Collin's blog, check it out). Still lots to do on the outside, obviously. Anyone wanna come spend a week in the cozy guest room? It'll only cost you a couple hours of chinking between logs, nailing up siding, chopping wood, etc. Come on, it's fun! And we have fresh eggs for omelets, and buttermilk biscuits with local honey, and hot chocolate, with marshmellows, and everything!

When we (the Committee of Four -Brent, Carrie, Dennis and me) decided our best option for a roof over our head was to remodel the old log milking barn, we sure bit off a mouthful. Dennis, Brent and the boys tore off the old roof (half gone by then, after 30 years of neglect), rafters, and loft flooring, clear down to the big support beams. Then rebuilt the whole upper floor, framing in the large bathroom/utility room and kitchen/living areas downstairs, and put in 3 bedrooms and small bathroom upstairs. It's an incredible remodeling job.

The picture below shows the dining area, with the picnic table that seats all of us, and the cupboards we salvaged from the old original farmhouse near the barn. That structure was too far gone to make it usable for us, but we are trying to use as much from it as possible. We like the feeling of history it gives us, and the flavor of the homestead.
I've been enjoying the labor of love involved in getting myself settled into the cabin as my own home, now that the rest of the gang has deserted me for a huge farmhouse (with toilets that flush - that was the main attraction; oh, the 8 bedrooms might have had something to do with it, I guess) just about a minute down the road. I've been painting, unpacking boxes of stuff I haven't seen for almost two years, and feeling more settled in this new phase of my life.

I sure miss my partner in building projects - Dennis was always able to take my ideas and thoughts and turn them into solid reality with a few swings of his hammer. But I can run a screwgun, and I hit the nails more than my thumb. And thankgoodness for velcro dots - those little suckers stick to anything, you can almost hang an elephant on the wall with them!
Brent has been a champ about taking on my "to do" list, I wouldn't get much done on the big projects without his cheerful help.

The low angle on the upstairs ceilings make for some cozy rooms. This project is the guest/play room. The boys were so excited to see some of the old toys and books from their previous visits with us in Washington!

Oh, you want to know about that lovely home? It's one of my favorites, in the neighboring village. Lots of old "vintage" homes, barns, equipment - and as Carrie and I were noticing the other day, a LOT of "vintage" old people, too! They stay strong and healthy, these mid-west farmers, well into their 90's. I'm hoping their magic works on us, too...

Here comes Grama-claus, here comes Grama-claus...

Once you turn 50, the world is your oyster - but nudging 60 is even better! For one thing, besides wearing any shade of purple that catches your eye, you have your permission to do whatever is left on your "Kick the Bucket List", and you do it with style, grace, pazazz - and yeah, maybe just a few palpitations. But you do it anyway, 'cuz WHY NOT!!
So here's my latest adventure: snowmobiles. Well that's a no-brainer, living where snow is measured in feet. But GRANDMA on the snowmobile ?? Even Max had to grin at that! I rarely turn down the opportunity to experience something new, unless it threatens life and limb. This was borderline....

Me: "You're kidding, right? You SURE you want me on that thing?" (thinking to self, I know he loves me, but there's always that MIL factor...)
Brent: "Heck yah, nothin' to it! Like riding a bike!" (thinking to self, this'll get her ol' heart pumpin')

Brent: "OK, here's the go lever, put your feet in those slots - the engine heat will keep 'em warm."

Me: "How do I turn it on?" (See how brave I am already?)

Max (yellow/blue) and Jayden (orange) show me how it's done - notice Brent's smirk? Also notice how he hasn't mentioned how to STOP the thing?
Max gives me some last moment advice: "Go fast, Grandma!!!!"
And thar' she gooooooes.....
Man, I gotta tell ya, that was a blast! I got up to 15 mph! Followed Brent and Jayden all over the trails, up and down hills, over the jumps and whoop-de-whoops (BIG bumps going down hill - waahoooooo!)

But I'm waiting for the helmets with the face shields before I do that again - wind chill is nothing to laugh at in this country, you can have a popsicle for a nose in 28 seconds...

And next year, I'm asking Santa for a snow suit.