My First (and so far, my only) Montana Back Packing Trip

After surviving our first winter in Montana, we anxiously looked forward to summer and all the activities the area had to offer.  The temperatures this June week were warm and the mountains were coming alive.  Every mammal had their adorable offspring following close by.  The melting snow on the mountain tops caused the rivers and creeks to rapidly flow.  A multitude of green colors dusted with specks of pink, yellow and blue, carpeted the landscape.  Clouds couldn’t be found amidst the turquoise sky.  The scenery was breath taking.  This was the Montana we moved for!

While Dwynn was on call working over the weekend, I wanted to take advantage of the beautiful weather.  The forecast predicted clear skies and temperatures in the 80’s.  The kids and I decided to take our first overnight Montana wildlife backpacking trip adventure.  Alex was in California visiting friends so he was unable to join us.

Friends often spoke of a series of small pristine lakes in the mountains that are fed only by a stream of waterfalls due to the melting snow.  The only way to approach the lakes is by foot.  We believed the trail was only a few miles long, meandering through the mountains which would take approximately two and a half hours to reach.  Camping is primitive so we needed to bring the necessary supplies.

Figuring since we now live here and we’d go camping frequently, I decided to invest in decent backpacking equipment.  Off we went to the sporting goods store to purchase our new gear.  I bought tents, a small propane grill, sleeping bags, a water purifier, a bear bag and a can of bear spray. 

A bear bag is a small canvas bag that cinches closed with long ropes.  You fill the bag with all your food and all the clothes that have food on them. Then far, far away from your camping site, you whip it over the highest branch you can find.  This will hopefully keep the bears out of the food and far, far away from your tent. 

Bear spray is a small red can that looks exactly like a fire extinguisher.  It’s filled with a high pressure pepper spray.  This and a gun are the best friends you can have while traipsing through the woods.  Now, the problem with bear spray is that you have to get uncomfortably close to the face of an approaching bear for it to be effective.  Then, if you have enough forethought you need to know which way the wind is blowing! 

Our food is packed, the gear is loaded and off we go.  The sun is shining and the temperature is in the upper 80’s.  It takes us close to an hour to drive to the trail head.  When there, the three kids and I jump out of the car and begin our highly anticipated adventure.  We don’t walk even ten feet and are greeted by the largest grizzly bear we've ever seen.  Glaring at us, the bear stands up tall and stretches out both arms.  At first frozen, we gain composure and then all of us RUN back into the car.  I’m outta here!  During the hour drive home, the kids convince me to come back tomorrow and try again.

The next day, we reload the car and I load my gun.  The temperature seems warmer and the sky is still crystal blue.  On the way we decide to pick up lunch so we can immediately start hiking.  My lunch choice happened to be an Indian taco.  This is a fried piece of flat dough, similar to a pita filled with meat, chili beans, onions and cheese – my first mistake.  The kids chose a healthier selection; I taught them well. 

As we drive again up the mountain to reach the trail head, so does the temperature.  The car’s outside thermostat is reading 101*F.  When we arrive, we yell and sing – this is best defense against startling a bear so they keep their distance.  With our gear strapped on our backs, my gun in my pants (girls, you’d be so proud) off we go, again.

After just starting this three hour trek, I realize, boy am I out of shape!  The first 75% of the trail is nothing but switchbacks.  An hour in, I get the worst doubling over cramps topped off by diarrhea.  I don’t need to get into the details but when you’re backpacking in the middle of NOWHERE, this is not fun!  Thirty minutes later, I start vomiting.  The kids thought I was gonna die!  I think my swollen sausage fingers did ‘em in.  I’m sure the Indian taco I ate before my jaunt, the extreme heat, elevation and the tight gun belt all contributed to my discomfort.  The higher and higher we hiked up the mountain, the boys kept taking things out of my backpack to lighten my load.  The trail WOULDN’T end!  After four agonizing hours we sent Bryce, since he’s the loudest and least likely to startle a bear, ahead to see how much further the trail went.  Problem now is, I couldn’t turn around and make it another four hours back and it would be getting dark. 

Fortunately cell service worked so we called Dwynn.  His advice was to continue as long as I took a break every 30-35 minutes.  I almost died just from laughing – more like every four minutes! 

After five grueling hours, we finally reached the most beautiful, untouched mountain lake we have ever seen.  This small round lake is totally enclosed by a ring of mountains with a large waterfall.  The water is so clean, you can drink it directly from the lake (we purified it anyway).    

As we set-up camp, we realized we purchased the wrong type of fuel for the stove.  Being prepared I also brought matches.  Our dinner was cooked over a fire while our collected wood was still DRY!  As part of our preparation, we checked the weather forecast and we were assured of 0% chance of rain, NOT.  The weather was beautiful through sunset at 10:30 pm.  We dressed for bed and entered our tents, then, the thunder and lightning started.  The hail rocks didn’t start pummeling for at least another hour.  At midnight, just as my phone was dying, Dwynn called to warn me about an approaching electrical storm and micro wind bursts. 

Torrential showers were pouring down on us.  I was terrified we’d be washed into the lake.  Trying to maintain my facade of calmness for the kid's sake, I quickly resumed my vomiting, in our campsite right next to our tent door.  Chloe’s and my “rainproof” tent stayed relatively dry compared to Russ and Bryce’s.  One can not imagine how BRIGHT lightning is and how LOUD thunder is ricocheting endlessly in a small enclosed circle of mountains.  Something everyone truly should experience! 

Now worried that a whole bear family will find the fresh feast I just left them outside my tent, I faced the longest night of my life.  During my only hour of sleep, I dreamt of Advil and what I could bribe each child with, in exchange for a scalp and foot massage.

At 4:30 am, the sun was shining and it was beautiful again.  Since the firewood we collected was soaking wet, we ate granola bars, packed up and headed back down the mountain, thankfully uneventful, never to return again (for me at least)!   

When we go hiking or camping, I always make these granola bars.  They are far better tasting than store bought and all natural.  This is a much better alternative than an Indian Taco before a long backpacking trip!

Granola Bars

2 cups Rolled Oats

½ cup Wheat Germ

1 cup Sliced Almonds

½ cup Sunflower Seeds

¼ cup packed Brown Sugar

½ cup Honey

2 tablespoons Butter

2 teaspoons of Vanilla

¼ teaspoon Cinnamon

½ teaspoon Sea Salt

½ cup Chocolate Chips

½ cup Butterscotch Chips

¾ cup of chopped mixed Dried Fruit

Butter 9x9” square pan with 1 tablespoon of butter. Set aside.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Sprinkle oats, wheat germ, almonds and sunflower seeds onto ungreased cookie sheet.  Bake for 15 minutes or until lightly browned, stirring often.  Reduce heat to 300 degrees.

Combine brown sugar, honey, 1 tablespoon butter, vanilla, cinnamon and salt in a large saucepan over medium heat.  Stir and cook until all the sugar is dissolved.  Immediately add the oat mixture, chocolate and butterscotch chips and dried fruit.  Stir to combine.

Place combined mixture in buttered pan and press down evenly.  Bake for 25 minutes.  Allow to cool before cutting into bars.  ENJOY!

Haute Cuisine of Montana

I’ve always lived within the United States and am fortunate to have the opportunity to travel internationally, and yet, I’ve never experienced culture shock more with food than here in Montana. 

In China, I expected strange things to land on my plate; however, I was caught off guard when I was served a bowl of thick white cream soup garnished with huge black carpenter ants scattered across the top!   Drinking water was imported from France but beer was brewed locally which meant…it was far more fiscally practical to drink beer ALL day.   In Japan I mostly ate fish.  They served dried fish, fresh fish, smoked fish, cured fish, raw fish and even live fish.  That I could handle, sort of.  Admittingly, this was the only time on vacation I ever lost weight.    

Now we move to Montana.  How different could the food REALLY be? When reading this, one must keep in mind that we have kept kosher for the past 18 years.  With all the kosher meat we previously purchased and consumed, we were assured the animal was slaughtered in a certain way and all organs were free of any blemishes.  This was all our kids had ever known. 

It dawned on us that things would be quite different here within a week of our arrival.  We received a thoughtful invitation for the whole family to a “welcome dinner” at the home of an associate of my husband’s.  The delicious aroma of grilled meat wafted through the house when we entered.  Russ asked what was cooking on the bar-b-que and the wonderfully received response was steaks.  The boys were beyond thrilled.  They NEVER get their own steak, it’s always too expensive.  This was a well deserved break from all the unpacking.  The smell made everyone even more hungry and anxious.  When the food preparation was complete, of course the boys were first in line.  They grabbed their salad and side dishes and then their OWN steaks.  Needless to say, they were finished eating before I even sat down with my food.  Seeing all their empty plates, jokingly I asked how they all liked the venison.  I wanted to get a surprise shock from the kids, which I did.  Six BIG eyes immediately looked at me with concern.  I turned and asked the hostess to confirm what type of meat they had just eaten.  Assuming it was beef, I had just taken my first bite.  She answered “DEER.”  I spit out my bite so fast, thankfully I had a napkin…actually it was a paper towel, (Montana napkin).  Then her husband proudly pointed to the deer’s head, which was a five point, mounted on the dining room wall.  From above, it glared down on us with large black eyes!  A five point deer means that there are five branches off each of the deer’s antlers.  My appetite was GONE.   Dwynn was patiently sitting, quietly holding Chloe while the antsy boys couldn’t wait to get on their cell phones and inform all their friends back in California what they had just eaten for dinner. 

The following weekend we were invited to a teacher’s home for an ice skating party and dinner.  Skating on a pond is very different than in a rink.  First, they don’t have a Zamboni to smooth the ice and get rid of the water ripples.  Next, I didn’t realize until it was too late that there are NO walls with railings to stop you.  After being sore from multiple falls, I decided to just sit by the bon fire.  Then we heard the cow bell, which meant time for dinner.  Everyone was cold and hungry.  She served sausage casserole, a large pot of chili and cornbread.  After eating, most went back outside to skate while I stayed inside to visit.  Smiling, I shared the story of what had happened the prior weekend during our “welcome dinner.”  An expression I can’t explain crossed her face as she told me that the sausage used in the casserole was fresh elk and the meat in the chili was deer.  Of course we just assumed it was beef, again…how dense am I!?!

Now we know.  Everyone hunts!  For a few weeks each November and December, whole families take hunting trips together.  Every person is equipped with their own gun.  Even little girls have pink camouflaged 22’s.  School is closed on opening day…it’s an event that’s more exciting than Christmas!  The newspaper arranges hunting contests for all age groups and everyone’s proud picture is displayed with their fresh kill, page after page.  When the individual is interviewed and asked where they shot their prey, the common answer is either "in the neck" or "Notellum Creek."  

My best friend was due with her baby on opening day.  For nine months this was an issue of concern.  G-d was watching out for her family and she had the baby early.  Four days after leaving the hospital, that new baby girl experienced her first hunting trip!  We have discovered this is the way the majority of people provide meat for their families to last the whole year.    

Each fall when the boys register in their dorms for college, they are asked to place all firearms in a downstairs locker when not being used.  I couldn’t imagine this on a college campus!  Montana children grow-up with guns and know safe handling.  Courses are continuously being taught in gun and hunter safety.  In the four years we’ve lived here, there has been no accidental injury caused by firearms.  Actually the crime rate is extremely low because everyone knows that everyone owns guns!  Being the responsible parents that we are, we signed our whole family up for a gun safety course.  Not that we will ever hunt, but we know the kids will be in friend’s homes where there are weapons and we want all curiosity removed.  Out of all six of us, I’m the best shot!  Now we spend date night at the shooting range instead of the bookstore.  I told Dwynn that we need to buy Chloe one of those cute pink guns for her Bat Mitzvah. 

Russ now lives in a fraternity house on campus.  During school breaks, he chooses to stay there and eat frozen packages of meat that past brothers have left there from their hunting expeditions.  Frequently I receive phone calls with added pictures, thanks to technology, of the goose or rabbit he just cooked or the wild turkey or duck he just grilled.  Sometimes the package is a frozen ‘unknown’ which he wants ME to identify and declare safe to eat.  The only problem so far is, sometimes he bites into buck shot that wasn’t removed.  I promise we offer to buy him food but, he likes the adventure!

One afternoon Alex was visiting at a new friend’s home.  Trying to think of something to do, his friend casually asked if he’d like to go bow hunting and shoot rabbits.  Alex declined, thankfully and asked the boy for something to drink.  His friend directed him to the garage for a coke.  Being wintertime, the garage is used as cold storage.  When Alex opened the door, he saw three deer heads on the floor staring up at their skinned bodies hanging from hooks, and their pelts lying on a table.  After touching the newly tanned pelts and poking the deer, he grabbed the coke and shut the door.  Opening the kitchen cabinet for a glass, he found the family’s ammunition stash packed between the dishes.  Alex had some questions for the boy about all the deer he saw, so they went back into the garage.  Being lunchtime, the boy nonchalantly grabbed a pocket knife and cut a fleshy portion off the hanging carcass.  He placed the meat on a metal rack, lit a blow torch that he grabbed from a garage shelf and scorched the meat. He handed the “cooked” venison to Alex to eat!  Again Alex declined, thankfully.  He came home and then made some new friends.

I learn a wealth of information every Tuesday afternoon at bowling!  Much of my blog comes from the knowledge and experience I attain from the Ronan Woman’s Bowling League members.  I’m not skilled at bowling but I enjoy the company and always have stories to tell at dinner. 

A few weeks ago at bowling, my teammates asked if I like Rocky Mountain Oysters.  I explained I’ve never had them but I like smoked oysters.  They started laughing and said that I’ve not lived until I’ve tasted these.  Astonished, being the cook I am, they couldn’t believe that we have lived here for four years and have not tried this local delicacy.  Restaurants and bars always advertise they offer these in the summer but we never really paid much attention to it.  Well, it turns out that Rocky Mountain Oysters are BULLS TESTICLES!  They’re harvested during branding season.  They serve them fried and even smoked.  In a neighboring town every fall, they boast about their annual fair called the “Testicle Festival” or the “Testy Festy” for short.  They claim “You’ll have a ball!  If you miss it, you’re nuts.”  This is a HUGE fair.  Maybe they feed their bulls something different.  There is something to be said about keeping kosher!

A bowling teammate was saying that she made delicious porcupine meatballs for dinner and asked if I’d like the recipe.  Amazed at what they will eat, squishing my face together and not sure what kind of balls we were now speaking about, I said no thank you.  Quite desperately, I then asked if they get the porcupine from hunting or road kill.  All of them looked at me like I was crazy and my friend said they are made with ground beef and rice…SILLY ME!  Don’t get me wrong, they DO eat porcupine.  We’ve been offered moose, and bear and just last week, we came home to a five pound fresh antelope summer sausage present on the picnic table!

Before we had moved here, maybe I would have thought logically about the recipe for porcupine meatballs and reasoned that the ingredients would consist of beef and rice.  But now, that’s ALL gone.  I quit reasoning and assuming.  When at a restaurant and the dessert menu special is “Grass Hopper Pie”, I ask!   

The Mountain Won!

When we decided to live in the camper all winter until our house is finished being built next year, I was skeptical to say the least.  Having no electricity, water or sewage, everyone kept telling us that it couldn't be done, but.....WE KNEW BETTER!  Dwynn, the survivalist was going to prove every experienced Montana lifer, wrong. 

The fall temperatures held out longer than expected and we felt like winners, thinking this isn't so bad after all.  There were a lot of preparations that had to be done to the camper so we can survive the bitter cold.  We have been using the out-house since August, which hasn’t been so terrible.  Installed, there is a motion detector light for nighttime which we thought was very clever.  It wasn’t until that first evening we realized it turns off after only thirty seconds.  Whenever I am in there for any amount of time during the night, I get more exercise waving my arms frantically, than I do in the gym!  See, there is a positive side to everything.

We beautifully decorated our out-house with an original print, from the third or fourth hand store for twenty-five cents.  Chloe framed and matted our newest masterpiece to match the colors of the wall.  I placed our one and only camper-warming gift, a bright green coffee plant in the urinal, which nobody was allowed to use.    A nicely printed sign was placed just below the plant warning “No One Is to Use This Urinal or Momma Bear Will Get You!”  Not to be left out, Dwynn added his touch by adding a plunger.  At first, guests didn’t realize that you don’t use a plunger in an out-house, so I thought. 

In preparation, Dwynn bought rolls of foam pipe insulation.  He spent countless hours after work, wearing his headlamp, trying to beat the first winter storm.  To begin, he had to first unpack all the storage compartments under the camper so he could reach the flooring and walls.  He then had to detach all the movable panels so he could reach the plumbing.  After successfully foam wrapping all the pipes, he reattached the walls and flooring, and then he placed all of our earthly belongings back under the camper in the storage space.  Quite proud of himself, he then stacked and packed tightly at least fifty wet bales of straw under and all around the camper to further insulate.  Finally finished at 3:00 am, he came inside and collapsed.  Deep nasal snoring was heard around the mountain top within three minutes.  At the fifth minute, I heard the cat meow FROM UNDER THE CAMPER!  All I kept thinking of was the song I was going to sing to him when I told him this good news, “It Sucks To Be Me.”  Needless to say, the cat is now free and thriving.

Four days later on Tuesday afternoon was my Ronan Woman’s Bowling League.  Every week my teammates quiz me on how the Montana Newbie’s are surviving.  I couldn’t wait to tell them how proud I was of Dwynn and all that he had accomplished.  After explaining our triumphs, (I get credit for just staying there) they asked how much we paid for the electric heat tape he wrapped around the pipes BEFORE the foam insulation.  Then they asked where we found the foil thermal skirting placed around the camper BEFORE the straw bales.  My elation was totally diminished.   That evening over wine and candlelight I told him this good news!

We both knew how HE’D be spending his next day off!  Still no snow so we’re OK, not, Murphy’s Law as usual.  Wednesday night while we were lying in bed, the rain started.  I nervously lay awake and listen, with my legs crossed, not because of Dwynn but because I didn’t want to go outside to use the out-house.  After what seemed like an eternity, silence came at day break.  I was so terrified to look outside.  We had been waiting for this moment for months.  I opened the door and all I could see was WHITE.  The ground, the air, the sky, all white!  It just so happens that this morning was the beginning of the worst winter Montana has seen since 1975!  Dwynn was not a happy camper, literally.  Not only did he have to disassemble everything again, he needed to move all the wet snowy straw, which now weighs about 250 lbs. per bale.  Friday he played hooky from work and was under the camper working until Sunday.  I sat in the camper thinking of buying stock in Dr. Pepper since we are its major supporters, listening to the muffled groans beneath me.

The next dilemma was conquering our one mile rutted, hilly driveway.  This was not going to be as easy as the insulation.  Trying to leave the property, first Dwynn’s dooly got stuck and then my Suburban.  Snow was coming down faster than we could shovel.  We called a friend who plows snow and after trying several times, his truck just couldn’t make it up the mountain.  Problem was, we were up and everyone else was down!  Now I understand why we have such peaceful solitude.  After four hours of shoveling and talking myself out of a panic attack, which I’ve never experienced before until now, we finally freed the Suburban and was able to make it down the mountain, thanks to gravity.  Driving slowly past our Amish neighbors in their one horse open sleigh – which they really do have (how cool is that?), we spotted a man plowing driveways with chains on his tires.  I jumped out of the car and flagged him down.  He was just finishing his current job and followed us back to our property.  His truck successfully climbed up with no trouble and he plowed for two and a half hours.  Finally I was at ease, that’s until his bill arrives.  We bought a snow blower and ordered some chains for both vehicles.  Since the driveway was plowed and the snowfall stopped, we were able to freely enter and leave our mountain.  It’s ours since no one else lives on it. 

My tire chains arrived!  When in the shop, a salesman suggested that I have my tires siped.  Anything that would prevent me from getting trapped in the snow, I’d agree to.  Siped means to cut horizontal slashes every half inch around the tires.  These are new tires and the idea of paying someone to slash them didn’t excite me, but I agreed.  Apparently everybody’s rig has their tires siped, my rig was just a newbie.  

The employee showed me how to put on my newly purchased 50 lb. chains.  It looked easy enough, but with my tires ‘siped’ I really had no intention of ever using them.  Actually, that was my new Montana goal!  Of course while at the tire shop, it starts snowing again.  Our property is thirty minutes away and I wanted to get to the camper quickly as possible.  I needed to pick Dwynn up at the hospital and Chloe at school then bee-line home.  Sure enough, the Suburban with its new siped tires won’t make it up the mountain and needs the chains.  Given that it hasn’t even been an hour since I expressed my goal, I’m a failure.  With prowess, I showed Dwynn the procedure.  He’s not the only one who can lie in the snow and accomplish something.  Smirking, he commented, “If your friends in San Diego could see you now.”   

Slowly crawling in four wheel drive, we made it up the hill.  He was very impressed.  We got out of the car to remove the chains and one of them was gone!  How could that be, we made it up the mountain?  He and I hiked up and down searching the snow banks.  They were nowhere!  Dread ebbed at my spine.  I lay back in the snow and look under the car.  Low and behold, the missing chain is there, wrapped all around my brake and axle.  The only way to release the chain was to jack the car up and remove the tire.  After AAA declined to come, the nice man who plowed for us came back and worked with Dwynn for two hours fixing the car, cha-ching.  I think I may need another lesson.  It sucks to be me!

Now back to the out-house, the next MAJOR winter challenge.   As the temperatures plummet and the snow continues to accumulate, Chloe and I refuse to go outside to use the bathroom and insist on using the one installed in the camper.  We’ll just have to pay and pray that the sewer guy can make it up the mountain to drain the tank.   Dwynn wants to live up here, he can go outside.  There is no way I was going to go out in 2-3 feet of snow, below zero temps and pull down my pants just to get frozen to the seat and try to peel off without ripping my skin.  Mind you, this was also in the middle of the night with the non-hibernating bears and wolves! 

Recently while shopping in the local Amish store I overheard two men speaking.  They were discussing how they have the children use the out-house first so that the seat is warmer for them!  Dwynn truly enjoys using the out-house.  With freezing temperatures, he even gets to use his plunger now and then.  How gross is that!!!

Well, the final blow came.  First, the camper toilet froze, then the kitchen sink faucet and then the bathroom sink faucet.  Dwynn was devastated that all his hard work and effort didn’t come to fruition, even with all the electric tape, insulation and straw.  I do feel bad for him because he has worked selflessly to sustain and keep us safe and warm.  Chloe and I are out of there, he reluctantly came too!  

Now for all of you still reading, wouldn’t this blog make a GREAT movie or book?  I decided that Meg Ryan should play my part and Dwynn initially said he’d like Danny DeVito to portray him.  Now he’s decided that he wants Danny Glover.  Spread the word!  I REALLY want my house!

I have never liked baked beans before but I LOVE this recipe!  My sister made these for a party and I had to have the recipe.  It’s the only way my family ever gets them now!

M’s Baked Beans

Serves 8

 1/8 cup Bacos

½ cup Onions, chopped

2 Garlic Cloves, minced

¼ cup Brown Sugar

1 ½ tablespoons Cider Vinegar

¼ cup Ketchup

1 drop Liquid Smoke

2 - 15 ounce cans of Vegetarian Baked Beans

1 – 15 ounce can of Dark Kidney Beans, drained and rinsed

Preheat oven to 350*

Saute onions.  Combine all ingredients.  Bake covered 30 minutes.  Reduce heat to 300* and bake 1 hour.  If time allows, bake at 200* for 1 more hour.

                                             Enjoy!

  

The Antics of Tilly

Since Dwynn was in medical school, it has been my passion to spin wool and to weave.   I’m sure this interest was sparked by the MANY, MANY hours I was alone, fiddling with my clothing waiting for him to come home.   My dream has been to have a flock of sheep grazing in my front yard while I sit at my loom, in front of a huge living room picture window, watching them.  When we entered our new rental home, there it was!  The house was much smaller than what we were used to but it had a living room with a huge picture window facing the pasture and the snow capped mountains.  Being the only spacious room in the house, other than the basement, it didn’t matter; this was the new home for my seven foot loom.  The kids weren’t happy but I was.  The loom only blocked a seven foot view and there was still a bit of room to sit on a small couch and enjoy my newest project.

Now all we need are some sheep.  Before that though, the pasture has to have an electric fence plus a barn for shelter and a watering hole.  Being the middle of winter, this could not happen for several months.  Inspired as I was, all I wanted to do was start a new weaving project.  A small notice in the local paper mentioned information about the next weaving guild meeting held at a nearby church.  The perfect avenue to meet new people and to pick up some new fiber! 

The program consisted of a sales woman explaining her processing plant and the procedures used to attain the desired yarn from raw fleece.  The event was very informative and a great opportunity for me to meet the locals.   As things were winding down and we were enjoying a cover dish meal, a lady walked in carrying a small box.  Inside was a six hour old ewe lamb.   Her mother had died during birth and she needed taken care of.  Well, WHY NOT!   I told Dwynn I was probably going to bring home some wool.  This was the cutest, sweetest, softest thing I had ever seen.

The lamb’s breed is Bluefaced Leicester.  They are typically all white with a bare face, not blue however.  Their wool (staple) is medium length and they originally came from England.  They are often bred with other sheep varieties because their wool has such wonderful qualities.

I drove home with my new baby on my lap.  Arriving in town, I saw Dwynn and the kids eating lunch at Subway.  I put the lamb in her box and went inside.  We chatted about the meeting and I explained how someone gave me some beautiful wool.  As we stepped outside, Chloe peeked through my car window to see the wool, and yelled when it moved.  Everyone came running.  Our next stop was the feed store to purchase lamb formula, bottles and PAMPERS.

When we got home the kids named the lamb Tilly.  She could barely walk.  There was no need anyway, she was never put down.  For about two weeks it was necessary to feed Tilly her bottle every two hours and change her diaper or she’d cry.  She always had a bed to sleep in….whoever slept with her, had to feed her.  Unfortunately sometimes she wanted me to herself and would butt Dwynn out of our bed and onto that little couch in the living room.  She became quite comfortable in our home and quickly became an important member of our family.  One habit she became fond of was, we’d be sitting on the sofa in the basement watching TV when all of the sudden, she’d leap from behind and land on our laps.  Luckily, she always kept her diapers on and as she grew, so did her diaper size. 

Her baa was adorable and not near as shrilling as Weezer’s call, yet they always spoke with each other and seemed to have constant conversations. 

Three weeks after Tilly entered our humble abode, we got our pup, Akira.  She was a six week old female, Blue Merle Boarder Collie.  Collies are known to protect flocks of sheep.  Every night she and Tilly would snuggle up together and sleep on their doggy bed.  Eventually all the animals needed to be outside pets and the transition was becoming necessary, mainly because of Tilly’s appetite and diaper size!  She LOVES the taste of paper.  Her favorite game, which she never tired of, was grabbing the toilet paper and running ALL through the house without letting it rip.  She was now tall enough to reach the table and computer printer.  Our paper was disappearing for a couple of weeks before we realized who the culprit was.  The kids could legitimately say at school “My sheep ate my homework” which unfortunately happened. 

Sheep are social animals and they need friends before they can be put outside in the dark, cold, scary world.  On the weekend, the farm chores began! We started at the feed store purchasing reels and reels of electric line, the electric motor, fence posts and lots of Dr. Pepper.  All six of us were digging, pounding and pulling, while the animals ran around and played.  With all of this being new to us, it became extremely frustrating when the fence wouldn’t work after several hours.  If one blade of grass hits the wire, the electricity won’t conduct.  If one wire is crossed or if the current isn’t set exactly right, it won’t work.  If the grass grows while we are trying to figure out why it won’t work, a new blade will touch and it still won’t work.  We had the boys keep testing it so we could see the strength of the shock.  It became a game of might, to see who could hold on the longest.  So far, we haven’t seen any benefits yet from the shock therapy.   Dwynn, Chloe and I decided not to participate.  The electric fence is used more for keeping stray dogs and coyote packs out, as it is for keeping the sheep in.  We called our Amish neighbor and he delivered the cutest red barn.  It was perfect for Tilly and her new friends to live in. 

We bought a set of Bluefaced twins and another orphan ewe.  Then we participated in the Montana State Fair where Tilly brought home a blue ribbon, and four new friends, two Shetland and two Romney ewes.  We were so proud!  All were champions in their fleece division.  We now have the perfect weaver’s flock, an assortment of different colors from white to black.  All we needed now were a couple of goats.  Sure enough, I found two cashmere ewes.  I’ve discovered two things, when you have a suburban and a large supply of diapers, who needs an animal trailer and whenever you want to buy an animal in MT, it’s available.    

I always make these at the beginning of the summer and keep them in the freezer.  When we have guests drop by, I pull them out and serve them. They are so pretty and very refreshing!

Frozen Fruit Kabobs

2 Cans Peach Slices, cut in half

2 Cans Pear Slices, cut in half

2 Cans Pineapple Chunks

2 Cans Dark Sweet Pitted Cherries

2 Cans Mandarin Oranges

Fresh Green Grapes

Apricot Brandy

Marinate all fruit in Apricot Brandy for 24 hours.  Skewer fruit assortment on small shish-kabob sticks.  Freeze in single layer on cookie sheets. When frozen, remove and gently place in freezer bags.  Cherries will add beautiful purple color to fruit.  Serve frozen on platter or stuck into whole pineapple.  Will last until eaten!