Finding Home in Montana

Coach Beck's Cricket

I recently shared a post about things Coming Home to Montana, items that are returning along with me. This post, however, is about things new to Montana, items that just seem to fit here. Interesting enough, my husband, a native Idahoan, is adjusting nicely to this new life. As of yesterday, we are both registered voters!

This little guy belonged to my dear friend, Coach Beck. She kept him on a table near her front door and each time I visited, I mentioned that I wanted her to will it to me when she died. (I’m older than her, but I couldn’t help trying!) Imagine my delight, and tears, when she placed it in my hand before I made my official final journey to my new home. He is perched near my front door on the pedestal at the bottom of my stairs. He just seems to fit there. I think of Coach Beck each time I pass by him.

Bonnie's Stained-glass

This stained-glass window hanging was made several years ago by my little sis, Bonnie. She never lived in Montana, but she has already been here to visit! It is decorating the window also at the bottom of my stairs. It adds a splash of color and delicacy to the stairwell. I think it fits nicely.

Another dear friend, Dana, pieced this lovely lap quilt and gave it to me after a term of shared service. I love it! I’ve taken it in the car on some of my trips back and forth during my Montana Move. It found a home in the living room. I’m certain it will have many opportunities to warm a body or two in the winters that lie ahead. Again, I think it fits my Montana home just right.

Lastly (for now), these items have been collected over time. The mirror was a recent purchase. The blown glass candle holder was a gift from another sis, Judy. (I have a lot of sisters!) I purchased the pitcher and vase many years ago, before I was married, as part of some pottery I was collecting at the time. They found their home atop a china hutch that isn’t really a china hutch. It is a pair of ends to our entertainment center that was too large for any wall in our new old (built 1920) house. Oddly enough, it didn’t fit as a set, but it serves a needed purpose.

Not really a hutch!

There are many other items that are “settling in,” just like me. The antique dining chairs, the items in the china hutch, family photos and bedroom furniture are all finding their spots. Even my cinnamon rolls and power cookies have discovered a friend or two!

What does it all mean? Was I “destined” to return to Montana? Perhaps. I like to think, however, that life is adaptable – that one can kind find a home wherever their road takes them. A home and friendship and comfort can be found wherever we go. I think that is because we don’t really find those things, we bring them with us. Would you agree?

Running Granny Green encourages women, especially grandmothers, to gain greater fitness by providing tips and inspiration to insure long years of joyful grand-parenting. The cookie recipes are a bonus!


Happy Running!
Carol - aka Running Granny Green

Follow me on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.

Is that a Bear!

Panorama of my out and back run

I expected to see a fair amount of wildlife upon moving to Montana, and I have not been disappointed. As bears, even grizzly bears, are often present in this part of the world, I have been a bit nervous to venture very far when I run. I like to think I am brave, but I have my limits. Bears are on my list of limitations!

I have committed to yet another relay this summer and so I must train. I use that term loosely, as training has been a bit difficult this year partly due to my move, a small injury, wind, and mostly – bears! I have not yet seen one, but I am certain they are just waiting to eat me!

I recently found myself on a run with my music in my ears, eyes upon the road, and feet pounding the pavement. As I had not yet seen a bear, I was confident and cautious. The longer I go without seeing a bear the less likely my chances of encountering one, right? Not only have I not encountered a bear, I have yet to find a running buddy in Montana. I hope I find a buddy before I find a bear.

Anyhow, back to the story …

I was about a mile into my planned long run when over my left shoulder I heard a commotion! Yes, I thought it might be a bear, just waiting along the roadside for me so that he might consume me for lunch! Startled, I did a kind of hopping motion to the middle of the road and gave a quick look over my shoulder.

Nothing.

All was still except for some irrigation water slowly flowing through a Montana ditch (larger than a Treasure Valley ditch but smaller than a canal). Relieved, I investigated further and discovered a kind of burrow about three feet above the water line. I resumed my run which was less than impressive. I think the quick surge of adrenaline and my investigative pause sabotaged the rest of my workout. Alas, I have a few sabotaged workouts of late.

The out and back course gave me an opportunity to look further into the mystery. Upon my return to the site, I could see something in the burrow. As I neared, a large fur bearing water mammal of some sort dove out of the burrow making a big splash in the ditch below and swimming swiftly under the bridge upon which I was standing. This was the same noise I had heard earlier. It sounded like my friends doing cannonballs off the diving boards at Lava Hot Springs! (Okay, perhaps not THAT loud.) As usual, I was slow to retrieve my camera and I missed the opportunity to photo document the experience. Here is a picture of the burrow.

The burrow or den

 When I returned to the refuge of my home, I Googled “mammals of Montana” and determined that it was merely a river otter diving for cover from this fierce runner lady!

Still, it startled me. And it COULD have been a bear.

I think I need a running buddy – badly!

Running Granny Green encourages women, especially grandmothers, to gain greater fitness by providing tips and inspiration to insure long years of joyful grand-parenting. The cookie recipes are a bonus!


Happy Running!
Carol - aka Running Granny Green

Follow me on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.

Apricot Jam and Canning Thoughts

Apricot Jam!

I fell heir to a few apricots this weekend. Too many to eat before they ripen beyond fit for human consumption, I chose to make some apricot jam. It was my first food preservation project since moving to Montana. It seemed like a good idea, however, locating my canning supplies was a bit of a challenge. I found the essentials but had to improvise as my canning funnel and bottle lifter were no where to be found. As I spilled hot jam down the sides of my jars and dripped it on my floor, I was reminded that sometimes it is okay not to preserve everything one can scavenge! I've had these thoughts before and even shared them with my readers.

Here is an excerpt from Gold Pans and Iron Skillets that further explains my thoughts on canning and preserving.

Enjoy!

Just Because You Can,

Doesn’t Mean You Should

I married a dairy farmer and soon learned that one of my major responsibilities as a farm wife would be to can and preserve fruits and vegetables for the coming winter. Having avoided these activities for my first twenty-five years, I was apprehensive of the tasks at hand. To my surprise, my initial experience proved a joy rather than a chore!

As our strawberry patch began to show signs of a harvest, my husband of just six months had a hint he was fond of using. “Soon, you’ll be able to make strawberry jam!” When the day arrived, I rolled up my sleeves, gritted my teeth, and plunged into my duty. As I stood stirring the thickening jam, I remembered Grandma Nelson—or rather, Grandma Nelson’s Back Porch. There was an old manual washing machine in the room we referred to as the Back Porch. Grandma had been afflicted with a stroke and her ten children shared the burden of caring for her in her own home. I can remember my mother washing clothes in that old machine when we stayed with Grandma after her stroke. My favorite part of Grandma’s Back Porch was an upright freezer. On the racks inside its door were bottles of strawberry jam. I can’t recall what other treats it contained; probably a trout or two from Teton Creek and some frozen corn. I remember opening the freezer door and touching the jars with my fingertips. I would hold my fingers against the glass until the frost melted and tiny windows revealed the red goodies within. Mom would catch me and growl at me for keeping the freezer door open, just as I now growl at my children for similar offenses!

I make strawberry jam every year. Whether I have five jars in my freezer or twenty-five, I complete the ritual. It has become a tradition for me. In a way, it helps to preserve my memory of Grandma, and of Grandma’s house, for each time I stir my strawberry jam I recall the first time I made it and the memories come flooding back. I will always keep frosty jars of strawberry jam in my upright freezer just as there were always frosty jars in Grandma Nelson’s freezer.

Not every canning project is as rewarding or goes as smoothly as did my strawberry jam efforts. Over the years, countless bottles have refused to seal, bushels of fruit have spoiled before the task was completed, and dozens of filled jars remain on my shelves because the family just doesn’t like canned peaches and pears anymore. They never did develop an appetite for the carrots and new potatoes I bottled just because I could. There are those items that remain unidentified because, as a beginner, I wasn’t wise enough to label and date the lids. They will never be eaten, but I am reluctant to dispose of them as I am confident they took much effort and time that I didn’t have to spare.

Red onions are abundant, free, and pretty. I thought it a good idea to save some for a rainy day. Having located a recipe for Vinegared Red Onions, I filled three dozen pint jars. I have only opened one. The pink onions were nasty! They lost a little color as they were processed, but the onion and vinegar flavors became stronger, too strong to use as a garnish, condiment, or main dish! They aren’t even worth using as a decoration, as the color has continued to fade to a dull brown.

I have streamlined my canning and preserving efforts over the years. I now strive to devote my time, talents, and cash to things that will be of use such as: green beans, pickled beets, apple pie filling, and frozen corn. Oh, and strawberry jam, because not only is it of sentimental value, it has become a staple in our diet. My family might perish without a freezer full of strawberry jam!

What about you? Do you have a food preservation experience that made you question the wisdom of the project? I would love to hear about it in the comments below.

If you enjoyed this essay, you can read more either in the hard copy or Kindle version of Gold Pans and Irons Skillets.

Running Granny Green encourages women, especially grandmothers, to gain greater fitness by providing tips and inspiration to insure long years of joyful grand-parenting. The cookie recipes are a bonus!


Happy Running!
Carol - aka Running Granny Green

Follow me on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.