Christmas Past

Everyone but Dad in this shot. We are looking forward to Christmas feast.

Weeks have passed. Not sure where the time went. In fact it feels like father time has been playing an evil joke on me. A few blinks of the ole eyelid and here I am a few days from hitting the road again.

Christmas was more like a marathon than anything else. Christmas in NC, Christmas on the 25th, and Christmas last Saturday with the fam. I've been devouring heavenly food and drink since arriving here a month ago. I will be returning to the West about 10 pounds heavier. Ouch. I've started to develop a trend where I eat my heart out when I'm visiting at home, because I'm not going to see food like that for another year. So I tell myself..."eat all you want, you'll work it off later". It's worked the last few years, lets hope it continues to 'work out'.

Enjoying the Dora Scavenger Hunt book. That Dora, she's crazy!

Mom and Katie spent an afternoon making gingerbread men.

Mariocart found its way into our post-Christmas celebration.

The last month has been a whirlwind of travels, I've been on the move since November 16th. And finally after weeks of flying, driving, and incidently riding zebras, I've made it home to Rochester, IN. Home is one of the only places I've found where I can just sit and relax.

It wasn't always like that. Four kids, three cats, two gerbils, two parents, and one dog. Schedules and lists ruled our lives, to create a sort of controlled chaos, of which we all survived and are better for it, I'm sure.

What I've been up to since my last attempt at posting on this blog:

• traveled over 3500 miles by airplane


• read three books


• went to a hockey game


• played 18 holes of golf


• observed and identified many of Florida's estuary birds


• slept on a Murphy bed (that's right folks, it comes out of the wall)


• attended a cooking class


• finished my Christmas shopping

Along the estuary on the J.N. "Ding" Darling Nature Preserve.

I've been keeping busy visiting various family members around the country. Most recently I was fortunate enough to spend some time in South Florida visiting my grandparents and my Aunt Connie. They graciously and energetically entertained me for five days.

Grandpa and I on the Murphy bed. As many different types of beds that I've slept on this year, it only seemed right and complete to add this to the list.

My new place of residence for the next night or two is with my cousins Alaina and Andrew and their two boys. I'm back in the midwest, the place of my birth. The snow is bright, the air is cold, and it finally feels like Christmas!

Patrick and Calvin practicing the art of stocking shelves.

See, Sea, Si

Thanksgiving this year found me in Puerto Penasco (Rocky Point), Mexico with Emily, Franz, Maddie, Katie, and Lana. We stayed in Emily and Franz's condo on the beach (Sea of Cortez), with ammenities such as ocean view, hot tub and pools, exercise room, internet, flat screen televisions. I experienced utter relaxation for the four days that we resided there. Not once did I put my watch on or check the time on any clock. It just didn't matter, no schedule, no phone service, no demands.

Maddie and Katie, as much as Emily, Lana, and I, loved going out at low tide searching for the sea's treasures: crabs, sponges, snails, shells, sting rays, and fish in the tidal pools left in and around the shallow coral reef.

Lots of game playing ocurred. Emily and I are officially addicted to the Seafarers of Catan, a rockin' expansion to the Settlers of Catan, where you have to worry about the thief as well as the pirate ship.

A Witness to the Changes

It was kind of hard to leave Montana last Friday. Nine months had passed since I was ushered into the Big Sky country by a snow storm whipping across eastern Montana. By late April, the snows of February and March quickly melted in the flat country and in the high country those same snows fed rivers and lakes for many more months. The summer was hot and dry and smoky from all the fires. But that didn't stop me from hiking, rock climbing, and traveling the state. And by August, the heat dissipated and fall settled in with cool breezes, golden aspens, and the occasional snow that majestically crowned the 9-10,000 ft peaks.

Its incredible. I've been a part of four seasons in Montana. I've watched this chunk of earth change as it makes its way around the sun. I've marveled at the beauty of the last wild (undammed) river in our country, the Yellowstone. I've paused to watch bald eagles soaring above alpine lakes. I've come face to face with weasels, martens, and marmots. I've seen meadows change from green grasses, to blankets of wildflowers, to burnt orange remnants of vegetation. I've picked my way along the frozen earth where bison have left three to four inch deep scars as they moved along the river foraging for grasses. I've been awakened from sleep to the chill howl of coyotes in the distance. I am a witness to these changes, to these lives. I've lived in Montana.

I feel a tug, a current that might just carry me back there someday. I'll be ready.

On Square Dancing

I have been recently introduced to the historic art of square dancing. The past two nights I have worn the night away spinning, doe see doeing, stomping and clapping. My friend, Collier, has a bluegrass band that plays around town. She and another band member just got back from a square dance calling workshop in Portland the other day and were excited to practice their new skill. They came equipped with about 13 dances to call. About 12 of us MCCers made it to the dance Thursday night (all of us novices). We danced for a few hours, it felt like I had ran three miles by the end of the night.

Collier invited some of us to her friend's farmhouse last night to do some more dancing. We had a feast of elk roast, potatoes, cole slaw, and garlic bread before the music playing began. The musicians included two fiddle players, one stand up bass player, a mandolin player, a banjo player and a guitar player. Throughout the night most of the musicians traded instruments and continued making music. It was incredible. There was also a washboard that some of us, not so musically talented, could try out. Square dancing once again into the night.

How cool is this place? I love it!

Dethroned

It is true. My title of Lord of Catan has been swiped out from under me.

Upon learning the game, Heidi, has beaten me and others two out of the four times that she has played. Not a bad record, if I do say so myself.

Still Scheming...

Lord of Catan

That's right...I am...for now.

Don't be jealous Evan and Brian, Calli and Lana, Emily and Emily, Mom and Dad, Alaina and Andrew, Sara and Phil, Wes and Rita, and all of the Judds.

I'm spreading the joy of Catan to the world. I've got a few more converts out here. Begging to be beaten.

When crew leaders have no one to lead...

...they become directionless. Looking for any type of amusement. Thus fence hopping.

We graduated our crew members on Wednesday and took off for an overnighter in the mountains on Thursday. There are eight crew leaders in Bozeman, we all get along great. Some hiking, some gaming, some eating, some sleeping. Nice.

(fence hoppers: Heidi and Tucker)

A Thermal Experience

It has been two months ago now. Two months ago that I moved from Billings to Bozeman. Two months ago that I was introduced to my new field crew who would see more of me than anyone else over the remainder of the MCC season. Almost two months ago that most of my crew and myself took a four day backpacking trip to Bechler region of Yellowstone national park. Bechler is a remote part of the park that has over 90% of all of Yellowstone's waterfalls. It is home to a large meadow stretching five miles in one direction and even longer the other direction. Continuing along the Bechler River, a hiker bares witness to waterfalls, cascades, steep canyon walls, and many thermal features.

Maggie, Katie, Joe, John, and I spent three nights enjoying the fall colors, the cool evenings, the starry nights and the soothing hot springs. This was my first experience sitting in a natural, boiling, hot spring. I spent two days in a hot spring affectionately called, Mr Bubbles. Mr Bubbles was a large spring that bubbled up from a large hole in the earth where a small thermal stream converged with the Bechler River. The closer you got to the erupting water from the center of Mr Bubbles, the more you could feel the violent vibrations of the stones that made up the bottom of the spring. It was intense. One couldn't help but wonder if it would at any given time just completely erupt like a geyser. The fear didn't keep us from standing right up next to the bubbling epicenter and eventually dig up the nerve to swim as fast as we could through it, scalding our skin as we thrashed about over it.

Wasting away an afternoon in the thermal waters of Mr. Bubbles

Looking down on Mr Bubbles

Searching for a spot where we weren't going to either scald our skin off, or freeze to death in the ice cold river water. No such luck, we quickly moved back to Mr Bubbles.