Tuesday --- Memories

Mom and Dad loved to go for a drive and just see the scenery. They would pile us kids in the car and just go. Sometimes they had a plan but more often there was no destination and the goal was to see something of interest.
In the spring the deer and elk antlers would be covered in velvet like the elk in my header and the creeks would be full of snow melt and running wild. In early summer the wild flowers would bloom and long days were great for an adventure on a back road. Fall, there would be aspen leaves turning gold and elk bugling and berry picking trips. Winter was a time of quiet and lazy day drives didn't happen much and when they did it was a sightseeing trip with a destination. Snowy roads were to be respected and travel was more of a necessity and less a pleasure.
Dad loved the mountains and the history of the settlers and of the Indians that were there before that.
The Ute Indians claimed most of the area that we lived in or near. As he drove he would point out thing like a hill west of Granby where he had heard there was a battle between the Utes and another tribe. He would say,"See up there? Old Bill told me that's the spot where they clashed and if you hike up there you might find arrow heads or something." We would drive past the hot springs and he would tell us he had heard that the Indians believed that the springs would cure most anything, they would even take their horses in the caves with them if they thought something was wrong with them, or just to warm them up on cold days. We would be driving up across the Trough Road and he would point out a dugout and speculate on the type of brave pioneer that had made his home in there and how he may have had to live while he was there.
He knew the names of the steams and the mountains and if he didn't he would name them.
Lunch was packed from home and eaten in the car or at some place where Dad could pull off the road and we could have a picnic.
I wonder now, if Mom and Dad had known how this oil crisis was to play out, if we would have found another way to entertain ourselves.

Monday's Food Day

I've been thinking about the stories I've been told about the depression and how tough it was for people. My folks were young people then and talked about how bad things were and how inventive people were.
This prompted me to look up "depression recipes" on the net. One of the recipes was for bread made from flour, yeast and water, nothing else. Well Friday I tried that and all I can say is it was edible. Not much taste, but if you put something on it, butter, jam, etc., You could eat it.
I suppose if it was all I had it might taste better.
One thing I read, told of boiling dried meat in a pot of water and some salt for a few hours then adding whatever vegetables you had around and boiling it for a couple more hours. Before serving it it would be mashed into a gravy consistency and pored over crumbled bread.
Maybe that would make the bread taste good.

Someone once said..........

My daughter and I were talking last night about things that someone said that stuck (made a lasting impression) with you. That kind of thing may come from a relative or a teacher or a friend or a leader (in business, government, religion etc.) or from a chance overheard bit of a conversation.
After that conversation I spent some time thinking about that.
I know that I got the saying "All things are sacred" from my mom and modified it to "All things are spiritual" some time ago to fit a need in my life. From my dad came "You don't really have to look that hard to see the good, so don't dig for the bad".
They were "just plain working folk" but you can find wisdom any place if your open to it. Listening is the way we learn and from listening comes repeating to our self, then an idea can fit and become a part of us or be changed to fit or be discarded.
As in the quote from my mom. When I thought "all things are sacred" to me it meant all things should be worshiped but when i changed sacred to spiritual it became all things are on the same level and should be treated with the same respect. That fit me better so i changed the saying. To someone else spiritual many be the wrong word and they may need to change it to worthy or related or something completely different. Maybe to mom what she said meant to her the same thing my changed version means to me. Maybe it meant something else, I never ask and she never expounded.

Thursdays Photo

Looking down on the headwaters of the Cache La Poudre River from Trailridge Road.

Tuesday --- Memories

March winds!!!!!!!!!!!! Its very windy today and that made me think of March winds, April showers, Bring May flowers.
Where I grew up March isn't the forerunner of springs beauty. Its just another wintry month. Keep the heavy coats and gloves handy and don't even think about putting away the winter boots. You are still in the grip of Old Man Winter.
Which brings me to a memory.
When I was a kid, after a good snow, Dad and all us kids would go out and shovel the drive. Our driveway could park a half a dozen vehicles of various types and sizes so clearing it of snow was a big job. One man and five children (one that was only big enough to get in the way, her and her little ash shovel) would work for about an hour and as the parking spaces got cleared of snow the mountain of snow between the drive and the street would grow. When we had just about finished I would go in and Mom would be fixing a warm treat for us. A cake would be ready to come out of the oven and I and Judy would get the cups and fix tea or coffee. Or maybe it would be a huge bowl of fresh popcorn and apples with hot chocolate.
Later there was a plow on something that pushed the snow up into a frozen hill and the warm treat was no more. The ease of the plow changed a togetherness chore into a quick job and stole our warm ritual of family togetherness
Sad but a lot less work.

The Death of an Old Friend

I was only 14 years old when the Rocky Mountain News turned 100 years old. Now, just short of 50 years later, they are gone. The last issue went out this morning, and then it died. It happens, in times like now, businesses close, people lose jobs and newspapers die.
I grew up knowing the "Rocky", I used it to research articles for school, to explore what was happening in the world outside my little mountain valley, and to line the warmer for the baby chicks.
I wonder if Wm. Byers had any idea that paper he put out in April of 1859 would last this long, or that newspapers would be replaced with the ease of going on line for our news.
Goodbye, Rky Mtn News, you will be missed.

Thursdays Photo

Morning bursts in to the valley!