Praise! Praise! Praise the Lord! Silas is nursing properly! For the first time EVER, he has been nursing like a normal baby. I was on the verge of throwing in the “nursing pads” and admitting defeat when for no apparent reason Silas chose to nurse properly. This instantaneous turnaround happened two weeks ago. Now, to counter this miraculous nursing event, he chose to bite me. I say chose because it was a deliberate test of my fortitude.
The initial bite was a bit startling, but not terribly painful. I jumped, looked directly in his eyes, proclaimed, “No,” and tapped his bum. He stared at me for a moment, apparently deciding if it was worth the consequence, then hissed a malicious giggle from his lips. He proceeded to plunge at me like a snake striking at its prey. With lightning speed he latched on with his teeth and yanked back with all his might. . . You know, stars are pretty, but they really ought to stay in the sky and not fill every inch of your visible world. When I could breathe, I yelped in anguish, not so gently plopped him on the floor, exclaimed, “NO!” and turned my back on the little piranha. It wasn’t until I turned my back on him that he registered a proper reaction. After the water works were over, I plugged that razor-lined little mouth with a pacifier (soother for my Canadian relatives) and rocked him to sleep. The jury is still out on whether or not he will ever nurse again.
For those of you who’ve wondered how my parents are doing, I am going to post my Mom’s latest two letters from the coast. If you are on her email list, you’ve probably already received both. The first is her yearly correspondence in which she sums up all of the past year's happenings. As you can imagine, with the year we've had, it is a long one.
Dear Family and Friends,
Here I am three months late with my annual communications. I thought 2005 was the busiest year of my life with Trevor’s and Shahala’s weddings, but I was wrong. This one was. I’ll recap the highlights for you.
My Canadian family joined us for a lovely Christmas celebration to end 2005. We had our own pageant, with grandchildren and grownups participating. To end 2005 with a bang we invited friends for a New Year’s Eve dinner and dance in the Cowboy Church barn. There is nothing like a good old barn dance to end the year.
Chuck and I added a cruise to our annual Caribbean trip, venturing into the Panama Canal, visiting Aruba, Grand Cayman and Costa Rica. The cruise was boring and short visits to different countries disappointing, but in Costa Rica we enjoyed a white water raft trip and felt a desire to return some day to explore. Alas, Chuck contracted Beaver Fever and suffered repeatedly until a missionary friend found us a cure during our stay in Dominica Republic. We had to skip Haiti this year again, due to more unrest and violence.
A week after returning home I flew to Vancouver Island with Shahala to visit relatives. Two days later, Tanaya called saying she was seriously ill and her baby needed to be induced immediately, a few weeks early. We rushed home and, without unpacking, headed into the birthing room. On April 10, Tanaya’s fourth baby, Silas Charles Kyne, a whopping 10 pound 4 ounce preemie, got stuck in the birth canal. The doctor was unable to perform a C-section because Tanaya was on blood thinners and had toxemia. A bold and courageous nurse climbed on top of Tanaya and used all her strength to force Silas out by breaking his collar bone. We thought our troubles were over when the little (big) guy gave a weak squall, but after Albert cut his cord he stopped breathing. His lungs were compromised. An emergency team kept him alive while Medford’s bigger hospital sent over a neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) team. Things looked grim for our baby, and by noon the next day it was obvious we were loosing him. He was flown to Portland—a five hour drive by car—in a medically equipped plane with equipment and a team so big his family couldn’t accompany him.
Tanaya’s friend, Ammie, watched the other three children, and Albert, Tanaya and I drove to Legacy Emmanuel Hospital. Kind people at Ronald McDonald House welcomed us with open arms and compassionate hearts as we dumped our meager belongings (Tanaya and Albert didn’t go home to pack. I had my unpacked trip bag) and rushed to Silas’ side. There were no improvements in his condition. He was dying.
The NICU doctor—one of an amazing team that work together to save critical baby’s lives—determined he should be put onto a heart/lung bypass machine, called an ECMO machine. I can hardly describe this complicated, amazing, scary, octopus-like machine. ECMO was designed to be a last ditch effort to buy baby’s failing organs extra time to work out their problems. Only larger infants, with a 30% or less chance to live, are eligible because of the dangers involved. Silas’ advantage was a strong heart.
It took a crew two hours to set up the ECMO machine, which required two fulltime attendants, and many more working around it. Tubes were surgically inserted into a vein in Silas’ neck to circulate his blood out and through an artificial lung for oxygenation and cleaning, and back in by the same vein. A high frequency ventilator kept his lungs from completely collapsing. Along with all the nurses, technicians and therapists involved in Silas’ care, he had a doctor for every major organ in his little body, and a team of overseeing doctors to put the various individual concerns together to make major decisions. He was given nutrients and drugs intravenously, his blood work taken several times a day, and his lungs x-rayed a minimum of once daily. At any given time we could count up to a dozen people around his bed. His veins, through which intravenous lines had to pass, were a stumbling block because they kept on collapsing making IV placement nearly impossible. This meant they had to use the same line for everything causing him to be highly susceptible to infections.
From the beginning the medical staff encouraged us to stay with our little guy and keep abreast of his situation by accessing his charts. They patiently answered myriad questions truthfully, without painting so grim a picture that we were totally overwhelmed (Tanaya and Albert did much better than I at not being overwhelmed. I cry far too easily). We made every effort to be with Silas round the clock for the next seven weeks sitting on two easy chairs positioned in the middle of the hubbub, or standing at his bed carefully touching him around his life-giving tubes and watching his monitors with bated breath. We learned to recognize all the different alarms, and we became good friends with many caregivers—some will be lifelong friends.
When Silas’ body finally started responding positively, more complications arose. Suddenly he had to deal with a yeast blood infection, ecoli pneumonia, drug addictions and many other issues. He struggled to breathe on his own, digest breast milk, overcome oral aversions and learn to suck.
After the first couple weeks Albert and I took turns coming home to take care of the other three children or staying with Silas and Tanaya in Portland. Tanaya diligently expressed milk and spent every possible minute with her baby. When Silas finally came home, the family stayed with us for another six weeks. During all this time Tanaya and I faithfully sent email updates to concerned people. They can be read at www.silaskyne.blogspot.com if you are interested in details and photos. Tanaya still updates the site regularly.
In the meantime Silas continued to improve and Albert and Tanaya’s adult foster care home sat on hold. They finally moved into a ranch house—Trevor and Caleb remodeled it beautifully—and accepted their first client. I loved popping in to give Silas his daily bath, and the kids helped me pick blackberries and walk my dog.
I came to know Tanaya’s children very well during this time. We were a team when their parents were in Portland. I noticed my impatience level had increased significantly over the years, so I found myself apologizing a lot. We nursed each other through a terrible, vomiting flu, head colds, a tick infestation, homesickness, and grief over the death of their beloved Great Dane, Juno. Fears for their sick baby brother loomed ever present. We prayed a lot. We enjoyed reading The Bronze Bow and Anne of Green Gables, swimming lessons, road trips to Portland, and a visit to the space/science center OMSI, which rivals Disneyland for fun. Papa read books and played cards after work and he got used to having Jerusha check on him when he was in his office. Micah and Savannah continued to home school at our house with Jo-Anne, a teacher/friend.
On June 8, Lisa and Caleb checked into the hospital for Lisa’s baby to be induced. To our horror Luke was a repeat performance of Silas. This time the same doctor successfully performed a C-section on Lisa. Luke Lawrence Bruce, a great big 8 pounds 13 ounces, (Lisa wears size one when she isn’t pregnant) spent a couple hours in the NICU before being reunited with his mommy to start his nursing career. It has been a hugely successful career and he is now in the 150th percentile on the growth charts dwarfing his little mother and nearly catching up with his big sister, Jasmine. Caleb was able to take time off work to help Lisa recuperate, and to help Jasmine, 20 months old, adjust to sharing her mommy. It has been a hard adjustment for her, but things are better now that she is talking. She is animated, full of hugs and fun. Joshua is delighted with his baby brother. He is a bright seven year old who home-schools with Lisa and hangs out with Caleb who takes him everywhere.
Before Caleb started back to work he took a road trip on his motorbike. On the freeway outside of Roseburg a valve stem blew off his tire and he crashed, causing another accident. He nearly missed being hit by a semi. He had to be ambulanced to a hospital. With his hand and arm seriously injured and extensive road rash, he spent several months recovering and missing work. He is pretty much healed now and continues with his own drywall business, which is doing well. Doctor bills in this family, as in Tanaya and Albert’s, are formidable.
Trevor now works for the Southmayd family, people from his church, {Tanaya adds: These are baby Judah’s grandparents that Trevor works for} installing granite counter tops. Kate works in their office as well. They love the work and the people they work with. Trevor also does house remodeling. They enjoy being Junior High Pastors at Living Waters Church, and being part of the worship team. They purchased a fixer-upper house, built in 1925, and all their spare time and money is spent working on it. We had a shindig to celebrate Trevor’s quarter century birthday in the Cowboy Church barn, and, of course, we had a dance. It was another opportunity for Trevor to recite The Cremation of Sam MaGee, a poem I made him memorize years ago for home school. It is Trevor’s trademark. Kate’s grandmother died days before Kate, Trevor and Kate’s parents flew to Chicago to attend Kate’s brother’s wedding just before Christmas.
Shahala had a rough pregnancy. She felt sick much of the time and suffered with dislocated joints. The baby’s positioning put pressure on her tail bone, which eventually broke. Her puppy ran her very long nylon rope along Shahala’s ankle burning her nearly to the bone. She needed crutches. She also experienced much false labor. The birthing process was a concern but she did an amazing job, impressing even the doctor (yep, the same doctor delivered them all! He’s a wonderful Christian man.) On July 18, Shahala and Peter’s baby, Zion Reign Kroll, seven pounds, five ounces, was born in just a few hours. Shahala’s bones are knitting and she feels healthier than she ever has. Zion has passed Silas up and is running a close second with Luke in the weight department. She smiles all the time and is working on her third chin. Peter and Shahala are convinced there has never been a more beautiful or talented baby. Zion has bonded with their puppy, Mia, and has already shown an interest in getting to know my friendly horses. Peter and Shahala are devoted parents. They entertain a lot. Peter is proving an astute businessman. He continues to buy properties and manage rentals. Pete now works as a worship leader at Westminster Presbyterian Church, and they love it there.
Chuck and I were excited to be able to host a thirtieth anniversary celebration for Larry and Linda Salle this summer. The Salle’s are Lisa’s parents and very good friends. Larry’s back surgery has left him in lots of pain, so he works in the office now. Linda’s cancer has returned and her kidneys have failed. She now does dialysis four times a day at home which should change to once overnight. She waits for the word to start chemo. Linda remains cheerful and encouraging. She trusts in Jesus and has peace. Remember them in your prayers.
My summer highlight was taking my older grandchildren to Kate for horsemanship lessons on her gentle mare, Taboo. They learned how to lead, groom, handle her feet, and saddle up. They walked, trotted and steered. They even gave her baths. We all loved the experience and many came to watch. When Kate told Jerusha—the boldest of the bold—to speak up when she felt fearful, Jerusha informed Kate, “I’m NEVER going to be scared on a horse!” (Kate, by the way, is gifted with children: patient, kind and encouraging.) Most lessons ended with an ice cream stop. We had a couple family picnics, and one time Papa and I took them for supper and a movie. Naturally, they received cowboy boots as birthday gifts from Grammy. J
At the end of July buyers put money down on Cascade Ranch. They refused to tell us if they wanted us to stay or not, so we spent several months living with the uncertainty. When it became apparent we weren’t welcome I started packing eighteen years of accumulation and saying goodbye to our magical life on the ranch. We felt no regrets about the time we spent in our little community of Lake Creek. I will sadly miss the Lake Creek Historical Society. I was a founding board member. I wrote their newsletter and worked on many Historical Society projects, including our annual Civil War Reenactment. The new owners made things very uncomfortable for us, so we had no regrets about leaving, either. Life is good and God is in control. (Everyone who lived on the ranch was evicted and, so far as we know, all have gone on to better circumstances.)
In September, I turned fifty years old. It was an emotional time because of our immanent move. To cheer myself up I had a dance in the Cowboy Church barn. Many friends came. It was our last party in that wonderful old barn that played such a happy role in our lives these past four years. Red Rock Cowboy Church remodeled the barn and held services there. The property that Chuck’s employer tried to give to the Cowboy Church was turned down by the county. When the church was evicted from the ranch they moved into a warehouse in Medford. Red Rock continues to thrive with an attendance of about three hundred people.
Knowing what to do with our horses has been my hardest issue to deal with. When the ranch sold we had so many, everything from old retired ranch horses, to our fancy Fjords. Chuck put down Fire Cracker; he was in his thirties. I gave away the ranch horses and my Arabs. We sold two young Fjords this summer and three more recently. Now we are trying to sell our breeding stock, a stallion and the two Fjord mares (Chuck’s team), a Fjord filly and three young crossbreds. Chuck said I could keep my favorites and he is keeping his Fjord gelding. In the meantime we struggle to know where to put them all. Our friend, Wes Householder, is keeping the herd temporarily on his 90 acres, bless his wonderful heart! He keeps me updated on their shenanigans. Other friends, Bill and Leslie Foust, are keeping a spring baby that wasn’t thriving. It is so sad to see them go. If you know of anyone interested in this wonderful breed give them our number.
Tanaya and Albert were evicted from the ranch along with everyone else. They bought an established foster care home in Ruch, a community in the Rogue Valley, a move made possible by Chuck’s employer who bought out their ranch lease. It is a large, eight bedroom house, with room for five clients—they have four. They have full time help, and Tanaya spends two hours a day driving the children to Christian school. Albert continues to work at Providence Hospital two days a week. They replaced their beloved Juno with a Great Dane puppy, Bandonah. She entertains both the children and the elderly. Silas loves her dearly. Between the children, the puppy, Tanaya’s good cooking and Albert’s thorough care, the elderly residents are delighted with the Kyne family’s move. The house is old, but sound. Trevor is doing some remodeling to make everyone more comfortable. Things have been hard for this family for a long time but they are settled now and doing well.
Savannah loves the whole school atmosphere. Her reading is at a high school level and she is in grade three. Her nose is always in a book. She models herself after storybook heroines and has a flowery vocabulary.
Micah is not a school kind of guy. He’d much prefer slaying dragons. But he is very good at math. He enjoys Young Marines immensely. He helped his Papa ship cattle this year and he wants to be a ranch manager.
Jerusha is an adventurer and a princess—“Princesses don’t do work!”—who lives to be outside. I would find her imprinting my dog after she watched me imprint my baby horses. Bandonah gives her fits because she nips when she’s tormented. Tanaya says this is why they get Great Danes; so they have a chance with Jerusha around. She was born with an infectious sense of humor that never ceases to amaze folks.
Silas continues to meet milestones, altered because of his rough start. He is tiny, weighing sixteen pounds at ten months, with little stick legs and arms and no extra chins, but his heart is strong, and his lungs function well. He’s extremely active, maybe making up for his enforced paralyzation. He still suffers from night terrors, but they are lessening. He is bright, very vocal, and he’s crawling now. I miss not seeing him daily. (Just a note—of the eight babies we know of who went on ECMO since Silas’ stint, only Silas and one other lived.)
Chuck struggled through his last months on the ranch. He had to sell cattle and finalize everything. He was told to do whatever the new people wanted to make the sale happen. He cleaned, repaired and hauled away forty years worth of refuse, and performed many other unpleasant jobs. He was told to fire his employees and evict all renters, including those that had leases. He behaved respectfully when he wasn’t treated so. He kept his word when others reneged on theirs. He was helpful to those who were hurtful. He refused to take offense when deliberately provoked. To the best of his ability he made sure that his employees and renters were treated fairly. (The former ranch owner acted with integrity and went out of his way to make the transition less hurtful to everyone.) Chuck worked every day for more than four months without a day off, and with very little time to pack and move our personal belongings. He was forced to work around indifferent construction workers who were tearing ranch buildings and the ranch house apart while we were in it. While moving our piano he ruptured discs in his back. Two weeks after we moved he slipped while repairing our shop roof and broke his arm. I thought I lost him for sure that night. The break is healing but he still has trouble with sore back and shoulders. I have never seen Chuck more worn down. But with our move has come peace and rest. That guy is my hero.
Chuck’s employer has given us a double wide modular home to live in south of Bandon on the Oregon Coast. It’s our Coast House. It is in a lovely location with lots of privacy and there is property nearby where we can pasture horses. Fencing is our next project. We are hoping we’ll like the coast and that Chuck will find rewarding and permanent work there. In the meantime he is enjoying some much needed rest. We are also established in the house his parent’s built above C2 Ranch in Lake Creek. We call it the Mountain House. We’ll stay there often to visit our kids and grandkids in the Rogue Valley. (There are eighteen of us around the dinning table now.) Chuck hopes to make some much needed repairs and do some remodeling on this house in his spare time. It feels a lot like camping to me, because of the wood heat, the ants, the raccoons and the deer.
Caleb and Lisa have decided to move to the coast with us. Caleb has worked in Bandon before and he has drywall work there now. They are renting a modular home next to ours, and are moving as I write. We are excited about having them so close. Chuck can’t wait to have Caleb as a golfing/fishing partner and I’m excited about getting to know the children better. Luke has been very sick this past month and the doctors say he now has asthma. We are hoping it is something he’ll grow out of. I’m thinking Joshua and I might raise chickens. J
Finnegan, my sweet German Shorthair dog, is ten years old and acting his age. He is pining away for his old home. His life was thrown into chaos when workers started tearing down our house while we were still in it. He can’t understand why we don’t go back. He cries nightly and is too depressed to go outside unless I’m with him. How to explain? I’m hoping he will adjust to life at the coast. I miss Barney-the-Barn-cat, too. My girlfriend informed me he is now Shoppy-the-Shop-cat at her house. We take him and the plants over this week.
2006 was the hardest year of our lives. We were swept away by circumstances beyond our control. I’m ashamed to say I spent a good part of the year weeping. But through it all I felt the presence of Jesus. When things go smoothly it is easy to think we are in control of our lives. Since I gave my heart to Jesus I’ve felt much more in control because I’ve used the Bible as my operating manual. But this year I found out how much I’m not in control. I’ve had to learn to live on promises. Belonging to Jesus isn’t a prescription for pain free living, but He did promise that in everything He would never leave me or forsake me. Through our trials this year I know without a shadow of a doubt that He was with me constantly. I learned to trust Him in new ways.
When Silas was at his worst I found myself wishing God would put me in his place and give my grandbaby my good health. I didn’t wish it because Silas didn’t have a better place to go. He was hurting and we didn’t know if he would have permanent brain damage or any of a number of things that might be wrong with him. It was for selfish reasons that I wanted him alive. I wanted to meet my grandbaby and get to know him. I wanted him to experience life, whatever that might be. God could so easily have taken him. We agonized with NICU friends—some Christians and some not—whose babies died, and I knew we weren’t any better than any of them. I know that God didn’t spare Silas just because I asked Him to, but rather because He has a very special plan for that little fellow’s life. Silas is here because God wants him here. God knows the plans He has for Silas, plans to prosper him. Life is not random. It is planned and I want to hang out with the guy that planned it.
The day I met the people interested in buying the ranch I was paralyzed with dread for our future. Then God gave me a vision. I was stepping out of a boat at night, just like Peter when he saw Jesus walking on the water. As Jesus reached out to me I felt that same paralyzing fear until I looked up and met his twinkling eyes. He seemed to say, “You can trust me or not, I’ll still love you. But if you do, I know you’ll have fun!”
I’ve reached fifty and the end of my life looms ever closer as the beginning recedes. What happens after I die is of great concern to me. My first question when I call my sister in Canada is, “Has anybody died recently?” I’m hearing about friends and acquaintances passing away and I want to know what happens to them. I’ve had glimpses of hell and I don’t want any part of it. It is scary enough when we get a little taste of it here. Jesus promises me eternal life when I trust in Him and that’s what I want; to live forever in a much better place where there will be no more sadness. For those of you who haven’t made a decision about your future, please consider the alternatives and check out what Jesus has to offer. It is never too late to give your life to Him. Just tell Him what you want to do. I can’t imagine living mine without Him. God bless you all.
WITH MUCH LOVE,
JEANNIE & CHUCK AND THE WHOLE BRUCE CLAN
This one is titled “Getting back on track! A Bruce update.”
Hello again! Chuck and I are in Bandon. We’ve come back after spending 2 ½ weeks in the Rogue Valley tending to business, taxes, etc. Life is finally slowing down for us and we are feeling like we are on vacation. We get up when we feel like it and watch lots of movies. We take walks—today we took one in the pouring rain with slickers on—and organize our stuff. I have zillions of letters to write and lots of fun projects when I finally get myself in gear.
In the meantime we’ve brought three of our horses over to the coast and set up hot wires to contain them. The deer continue to tear them down so we are always fixing them. It is so much fun watching them gorge on the lush grass. We take them treats and check on them every day. I wish I had the whole herd but I think there are just too many. I’ve sent two young ones to Bonanza to a friend for gentle breaking. One to keep and the other to sell. I’m anxious to hear how they are doing. The rest are still at Wes’, and the stallion and two mares with Brother Bill. Shahala’s baby horse is still with the Fousts. These people have blessed us beyond words by helping with our animals this winter. Now we look forward to new babies. I wonder what we are going to do with them.
I was so thrilled to finally have my sweet Flicker with me that I about hugged her to death. Now I suffer with poison oak. She must have wallowed in it. I want to rip my arms off. I was told by a local that we live on the ‘right’ side of the coastal dew line. That means no poison oak! “Thank you for all the rain, Lord!”
We tried a new church on Sunday, Pacific Community Church, just a couple miles up the road from us, and we loved it. I think we’ve found our new church family. The Pastor and his wife were so friendly and members of the congregation invited us to lunch with them after church. The teaching was biblical and the music lovely. It is small but lively. But very best of all, young children are welcomed with open, loving arms and are welcomed in the sanctuary. They have clip boards and crayons and coloring papers at the door. It has become important for us to participate in church not just with our children, but with our grandchildren as well. We don’t want to be separated from them—even it is only for an hour—when we wait weeks at a time to see them. Joshua sat next to me and Jasmine perched on my knee this Sunday {Tanaya adds: these are two of my brother Caleb and his wife Lisa’s children. Their third, Luke, was born shortly after Silas.}. It reminded me of when our children were little and Shahala made the rounds each Sunday from one delighted person’s lap to another. Trevor always sat next to Logan, an elderly gentleman whose wife was my grandmother’s best friend.
Our coastal house has some serious problems. The roof leaks. I have a closet that smells like mold because of moisture seeping from the ceiling. The cardboard walls (that is what we call them but they are really just paneling) have no strength and we came back to our bedroom closet shelf broken and heaps of clothing and boxes tumbled on the floor. Chuck repaired the shelf but it is raining too hard for him to repair the roof. This will be his second attempt. He already patched a leak over the kitchen stove. He replaced shingles that blew off in a storm.
Chuck still doesn’t know what he is going to do with himself for the long run but he is looking at some cranberry bogs next week to see if that kind of farming interests him. He is just a farmer/rancher at heart. He isn’t interested in working at the golf course. We shall see. The nice thing is that he doesn’t have to be in any hurry to decide what he’s going to do. I can see him feeling better, recovering from the previous year’s stress, and getting back his sense of humor. Physically, he still has trouble with a sore back and the arm he broke before Christmas still aches. He has a hard time sleeping. We try not to complain though, because he could be so much worse.
My little dog, Finnegan, is still giving us fits. He was ten this Christmas and he can’t seem to adjust to leaving the ranch. I bought him another coat so he can stay outside at night. We put one over top of another. (Can you believe a dog coat cost $28.00?!) I’d love to have him inside to stay warm at night but he whines and he’s torn up carpet and destroyed a gate and defaced a couple doors with his claws. He whines all the time—we think because he is going deaf and can’t hear himself. The only time he is truly happy is ranging ahead on a walk. The public beaches require leashes—which he hates—and, because he gets so far ahead of me the other day he missed a turn, caught our earlier scent and went of in a different direction. We lost him for almost an hour. He couldn’t hear me when I called. I was sick to my stomach. He finally met me at the car. I don’t know who was happier at our reunion, me or him.
Barney has settled in and, true to form, keeps us entertained with his antics. He loves Finny and insists on sleeping with him, eating with him, and walking with him/us. We are forced to lock him up when we take long walks from the house because he follows us there and back, which would be okay but there are some pretty fierce looking dogs along the way. When we were away he wormed his way into the affections of Lester, Caleb and Lisa’s giant kitty, and now he hangs out there quite often. He is a great big cat but he loves to play. He tries to entice Finny to romp and Joshua said he was watching one day and he leaped right over Lester just for fun. Lester didn’t know what happened. When Chuck and I go over to visit Joshua’s house both Finny and Barney wait for us on the porch. Amazingly enough, Barney doesn’t mind the rain. He always helps me get the mail. I have my slicker, Finny has his jacket and Barney just runs in the rain with a smile on his face. He makes me laugh.
My friends Karen and Christina spent a weekend with me when Chuck left for Lake Creek. Chuck and I have decided this is a perfect house for retreats so have agreed to vacate when one or the other has friends stay. Chuck is hoping that his two brothers will go surf fishing with him next week.
Chuck insisted on buying me a fishing license even when I promised to be there with him without actually fishing. He said, “I’m going to be riding horses with you so you have to do this with me.” We tried our hand at the business today. It was pretty much a disaster on my part. I felt so bad about the little wiggly creatures used for bate, sand shrimp I think they are. Talk about getting skewered. I ran back and forth trying to keep the line taunt and, sure enough, a sneaker wave got me. It filled my rubbers with water and dampened my spirits, as well as wetting my jeans to the crotch. Chuck brought me home and headed back out to fish some more so as not to waist his bait. He didn’t catch anything.
I happened to see the seed racks at the hardware store today so we’ve purchased some vegetable seeds. Our yard comes with a few raised beds that are begging to be planted. I’ve been calling Zion my little Sweet Pea since she was born so I have to plant sweet peas. I’m told that peas do well here. I also have a little green house (It is actually yellow and so ugly. I think it looks like a septic tank plopped on top of the ground.) Anyway, I’m excited about getting things growing in it as well. Already we have many fruit trees blooming and azaleas and hyacinth and others plants that I can’t name yet. I also have a chicken coop that is looking too deserted. Chuck says I can raise some chickens. I’m thinking my grandkids might help me.
Well, that’s about the latest news. I hope you are all doing well. Keep in touch
Love, Jeannie
