They're Heeeeeere

.: 20:16 :.

Cheryl and Tim have arrived! And seem none the worse for wear. We'll see what shape we send them home again in.

With luck Cheryl or Tim will have some pictures from their trip to post too. Stay tuned. :-)

Cheryl on da road, part twenty four

.: 10:24 :.

Or something like that:


"Rock."
"Hay."
"Cow."
Rocks."
"View."
"Field."
"Clot of cows."
"Hay."
"Rude California driver."
"Horses."
"Rocks."
"Train."
"Hey, you can tell where the farmhouses are by where the trees are."
"Scenery."
"River."
"Oregon!"
"Oh, Ontario is in Oregon. I've got to learn more geography."
"Mountains."
"Rocks."
"Trees."
"Big truck, please stay out of my lane. I'm driving in it now."
"Eagle, I think."
"No, no, no-no-no-no! (Expletive) slowpoke."
"Valley."
"Look at the view back there for me. Is it scenic? I don't want to take my eyes off the road."
"That sign says 'Falling rocks, next 10 miles.'"

The above is a sampling of Tim's and Cheryl's comments (mostly Cheryl's) Wednesday, June 25, during the drive through Idaho and eastern Oregon.

We broke fast at Perkins with an itinerant Navajo workman named Wayne. He was from Winslow, Arizona, having taken the bus through Flagstaff and somehow gotten to Las Vegas, where he "got jumped," losing both his bus ticket and the full function of his jaw. He somehow got to Burley -- "You know Steve, don't you? He gave me a ride."

He approached us as we packed the car, asking for a "coupla bucks" as he was hungry. Emboldened by the presence of Tim, and taking him at his word, I invited hime to eat with us. As we sat, we learned he could only eat soft food, as his broken jaw was still healing. He left after a bowl of chicken soup and a glass of orange juice, offering to sing a Navajo song to heal Tim's foot, and telling us how his family had to hide his shoes when he was young to keep him from going out to visit the horses.

Sister citys? Nampa, Idaho, and Tampa, Fla.?

Note to self for future trip: If you stop again for gas in Bliss, Idaho, have the camera ready to take photos of the old-style, non-digital, dial pumps and interesting signs, such as "Out of towels -- sorry. Get the roll of blue ones on top of the refrigerator at the side of the building." (That's paraphrased, but close to what was written.) Also take photos of the hologram necklaces featuring an image of Jesus Christ, and of the gas station across the street, Zippy's Gas-n-Grub. (I am not making this up.)

We went from the dusty foothills of Idaho to the more interesting mountains in Oregon. The descent out of the Rocky Mountains into Pendleton, Ore., was nerve-wracking. Three large signs gave first, second and final warning to truckers that there would be a 6 percent downgrade for six miles. Other signs did the math: A truck with 10,000 GWU should take the decline at 18 mph. Us little cars were left to squeeze around the big boys on curves with great depths.

Someone else has said it before, but it's not the heights I mind -- it's the depths. Don't tell Tim, but as he was looking at the pretty canyons, I was fighting off thoughts of what the Aztek would look like, flying off the edge of the road and down into whatever space there was below the line of my vision. Florida doesn't have such dropoffs, with lovely views of distant cantons and much nothng after the flimsy-seeming guard rails. I tucked in behind a truck for the final mile or so, to stay away from the large bit of nothng just off the left-hand lane. Later, in the Columbia River valley, I moved to the passing lane (had the road to ourselves) to not be near the edge on Tim's side.

A quick meal in Pendleton, then back on the road. At about mile 170, we saw huge, square stands of tall, thin trees, not firs, planted in perfect, shadowy rows.

"Now, that's just creepy," Tim said.

The tracts varied in age -- some showing 20 feet of pale trunk below the broad, leafy tops, others all leaf. The trees looked too thin and too closely spaced for lumber plots, but I know little about lumbering.

We got to Biggs, Ore., before having to get gas. I tried to place a desperate call to Penny and John's house to ask if I had to tip the filling-station attendant, but didn't get through. Oregon has mandatory full-service gas stations, the state's version of minimum-wage jobs as Florida has fast food restaurants.

We found out during a later call from the car to John that I didn't have to feel guilty about not tipping the kid. Whew.

John recommended we stop for the night at The Dalles, a town named after a dam on the Columbia, as I-84 ascends into the Cascade Mountain range after that.

We stopped at the River City Inn Best Western, getting a room with a view of the river on the fourth floor. The hotel is old, but clean. The new linoleum on the bathroom floor is so clean it squeaks, more so than the elevator.

The free continental breakfast Thursday morning had coffee, juice, milk, two types of cereal, bagles, English muffins, instant oatmeal -- and fresh-made Belgian waffles served by a handsome staffer. Worth a stay.

Don't know if we'll push through to Penny and John's house today. We'll take the I-205 bypass around Portland to get to I-5 southbound, and perhaps stop in Eugene to find hospital to remove Tim's pull string.

Tim's looking forward to going through a tunnel between The Dalles and Portland. We've seen a few train tunnels -- another reason to consider Amtrak if I do this again -- but this is the first we'll experience ourselves. We might have to turn around and go through it again, if it's fun.








Still haven't figured how to transfer the few digital photos taken, so it'll wait.



--Auntie Cheryl

Cheryl on the Road part 3

.: 10:23 :.

Logan and I are spending a day home sickish - she was up with an earache last night and we both have a cold. With luck we'll be over it by the time Cheryl and Tim arrive. Here is todays driving report from Cheryl however.

Wednesday, June 25, 2003. I'm writing this the day after, as we were too tired to bother hooking up Tim's laptop Tuesday night.

Silly me. I'd somehow thought Salt Lake City was maybe 250 miles from Denver, thus he comment last post about taking it easy. I now have a nifty little book, Rand McNally's "Dist-O-Map," with dials on every page showing how far it is between cities. Denver to SLC proper is 512 miles. I must bone up on geography. From Pocatello, Idaho, the closest reference for the town we're in, to Portland is 684 miles. Possible in a day, but we don't plan to do it.

We left the Denver area about 10 a.m., local time, after successfully sending the first and second installments of this trip report. I used my Rain-X (however it's spelled) wipes to re-do my windshield. The stuff works as well on clouds as on actual rain, as we discovered going through Cheyenne and Laramie into the Rocky Mountains.

We topped 10,000 feet, and I learned my Aztek's audio system doesn't like heights. The last CD of the "H.P. and the Prizoner of Azkaban" kept muting at random, and the controls on my steering wheel switched themselves around -- the seek button was the volume, the volume was sometimes seek, sometimes mute. It righted itself in the afternoon. Odd.

The views of the mountains were nice, but we didn't stop. Tim took some photos from the car while we were in Wyoming -- another lengthy state. Both Colorado and Wyoming need to take a lesson from Idaho and put up big signs stating "Last place to pee for 70 miles."

We lunched in Rawlins, Wyo., but as I still had about a quarter-tank of gas (perhaps 100 miles), I figured I'd wait before refueling. The temperature was cooler than, say, Kansas, but not bad.

Of course, Rawlins was one of those places that needed a "Gas up now, we really mean it" sign. My meter was sitting on empty for 10 minutes (mostly downhill, fortunately) before we found a real exit. The many miles before that were exits to nothing but the occasional farm complex.

Point of Rock (or Rocks -- the map differed from the building) had gas. It also had the slowest pumps I've ever encountered, all the better for the freezing wind to make me wish I'd wonr long sleeves, and maybe a parka. The runnels of water on the ground of the station's lot might have been from the intermitten rain we'd gotten once past the clouds, but it seemed more like snow melt.

Note to self for future trip: Mountainous regions get cold, even in June.

Amusing exit of the day: Green River, Wyo. The name isn't funny, but we got to see the main, Roseburg-like street when I foolishly followed three other vehicles onto the exit, as the main lane (singular --construction) looked as though it ran into a cement barrier. That exit led not to an exit ramp, but to a dirt track, more pothole than road, with orange cones and poles almost defining the path.
I was glad of the cars in front of me, or I'd never have believed it was intended as a real exit. There was a state trooper behind me, so I wasn't worried about getting lost in the larger potholes as Tim and I laughed incredulously.

There was no entrance ramp back onto I-80. We followed the road past some nice-looking houses and a small business district, and got back on the next ramp north. Tim took photos of the exit with his camera. Hope they turn out, as no one will believe us, otherwise.

We passed through more mountains; looked but did not stop at the Devil's Slide, a long, sideways path of what looked like large gravel running sideways down the side of a mountain where none but nature could have put it.

We passed through the Great Divide Basin, and then a sign beside the road told us were were at the Great Divide. Not so impressive, where we were.

Wyoming, the last bit before Utah, is roller-coastery, with steep downhill grades as we descended the mountains.

We bypassed Salt Lake City using I-84, a pleasant little interstate, if construction-filled. Then, we merged with I-15 about 6 p.m., and all the city workers speeding homeward. I started looking for lodging, and found it 60-plus miles later, in Burley, Idaho.

We stayed at another Best Western, the Burley convention center, with an attached Perkins and a sign advertising the mechanical bull. There's a Wal-Mart convention going on, so the only room they had left was a smoking room on the second, elevatorless floor. Tim managed to crutch his way up the stairs, and I brought up the suitcases and supplies. We turned in early, for us, and are taking our time about leaving this Wednesday morning so I can catch up on e-mail.

Saw on the television that severe storms in South Dakots, Nebraska and Minnesota spawned several tornadoes. Had it not been 1 a.m. in Florida, I would have called to reassure Mom that I was nowhere near there. (Love you, Mom.) The weather for this region is forecast as sunny and warming for the rest of this week.




I took a photo of the neat room keys at the hotel -- not key cards, but more like microchips on handles. Also got a shot of the envelope they came in, stating "Welcome to Burley." I'm tempted to send it to Tom Smith, as on one of his CDs, the epilogue to "Honey Glazed Ham" describes a group of Dorsai Irregulars as "big Burley men and their bigger Burley women." This must be where they all came from.

Looks like we'll get on the road about 11:30 or noon, mountain time. I figure we'll go past Boise, and see if we want to be tourists. Tim's keen on finding snow in June, so I thought we might deviate from the TripTik and go to Crater Lake, Ore., where Penny and company took me when I visited during her pregnancy. That park has snow at the summit. Would it be cheating to do Oregon tourist things without you, Penny?

And no, I'm not going to try riding the mechanical bull before we leave.

--Auntie Cheryl

There she goes again!

.: 07:51 :.

More from Cheryl, now that she's gotten her aol connection working

Now that I know AOL doesn't like semicolons, I should be able to send something each day.

Monday, June 23, 2003. Left the St. Loius area about 10 a.m.
Kansas is rolling, green hills with long views of the interstate, and not much else. Was going to stop in Manhattan, as I think that's where a coworker comes from, but the road signs didn't mention food at that stop.

Getting through Kansas City was not too harrowing. Only once did I scream, "Why won't you get out of MY WAY!?!" at a white car that then switched to the lane I'd been in.

Topeka had stupid drivers at one entrance ramp, stopped instead of speeding up to match the oncoming traffic.

We started listening to the third Harry Potter novel on CD, as we'd seen the first two as movies. It's a good way to pass the time in Missouri and Kansas. The Cracker Barrel we stopped at for lunch had more books on CD, with a return policy where they'd refund you the price of the CD, less $3 a week, and you could return the books to any other Cracker Barrel. I didn't see much science fiction or fantasy, unless J.D. Robb's Eve Dallas series counts.

I learned during the day that my first post hadn't gotten through AOL. I suspected the semicolons. Blast.

Amusing exit o' the day: Mingo, Kansas. Perhaps it could be a sister city with Mango, Florida.

7:30-ish, mountain time (I've left off my watch, as I don't much need it), in Limon, Colorado, just over the Kansas border. The spped limit along I-70 in Colo. is 75. Neat. The waiter at Denny's saw our plate and thought we were from Georgia, because of the "peach."

Skies have been clear all day. Penny's suggestion of a hat with a brim came in handy as the sun kept having nothing to hide behind -- no big trees, no hills, as we were still driving up. I kept wishing we could stop about 30 minutes before we did for food, as the sun was sitting on the road for the last 10 minutes or so -- too low to cover with the hat and still drive safely.

11:33 p.m. Sorry, Mom. I said when I called you that we'd probably stop soon after dinner, but the story was reaching a climax, and we weren't that far from Denver. And, if the traffic at 10:30 at night was supposed to be light, I'm glad we didnt wait to tackle it during the day. We got past the city and onto I-24. I think we're far enough away from home that the locals are giving me tourist courtesy when driving.

We plan to get through Salt Lake City today, Tuesday. I know it's about 800-some miles from there to Portland, so we might take it even easier on the drive -- neither Tm nor I have seen this area from the ground. If we see something we're interested in, maybe we'll stop and be tourists. Weather TV said storms are expected today in the area, and the temperatures are cooler. I'll re-cover my windows with RainX, and enjoy the views.

--Auntie Cheryl

Cheryl on the Road

.: 07:04 :.

Well, Cheryl and Tim actually, but Cheryl sent it to me and asked me to post to the blog, for all the world to see. So here it is:

Cheryl's first two days of trip from Inverness, Fla., to Yoncalla, Ore.

Saturday, June 21, 2003: Made it past Atlanta, taking our time for the first day on the road. Saw fireflies on the appraoch to Atlanta at dusk. It might have been the window tinting, but they looked larger and yellower than the geeen-light fireflies I see around my home each April.

Amusing exit of the day: Flippen.

Note to self for future trip: Read the AAA TripTik before leaving the house. About 30 seconds past the spilt of I-85 and I-75 in downtown Atlanta, Tim the navigator says, "Darn."

Seems that, although the main TripTik map shows I-75 going left and I-85 going right, the Georgia DOT decided to have the three I-75 lanes cut off to the right, while the I-85 lanes went to the left. Slightly panicked by as many as eight lanes all going the same way, I kept going on I-85 while Tim plotted an alternate route.

He says to take the exit for Georgia State Road 42, and we can follow it to the west to reach I-75 again. As we reach the top of that exit ramp, the signs state "North" and "South."

"North?!?" I say, panic growing. Tim remains calm, directing me through back roads, where, while on Roxboro (or somesuch), we pass an intersection with Roxboro. This was near a swanky shopping district (Saks Fifth Avenue) with many cars outside at 10:30 at night. (Sidewalks roll up in my hometown by 9, usually). Fifty cents in tolls on U.S. 400 later, and we're back on I-75. Then we find a hotel and collapse.

Note to self for future trip: Remember to put over-the-counter painkillers in pocket, and in suitcase.

Tim's price for keeping clam during our adventure was a case of sugar-shakes. Thanks to John's mom Wilma giving me jelly beans, his diabetic crisis was averted.

There are photos on my PDA of Tim changing the bandages on his one-month-post-surgery foot, and one of me I took in the mirror. I don't know if Tim will have figured out how to attach them to this e-mail by the time I finish writing it.

9-ish a.m. Sunday, June 22, 2003: Note to self for future trip: Bring own bed. Failing that, bring own chiropractor.

10:30 p.m. (central time), Columbia, Mo., near Missouri University. It was a fairly smooth day of travel. I picked up seven newspapers to bring back to my own newsroom, although I forgot to get a Sunday on in Atlanta.

Note to self for F.T.: Even if you don't think you have to go, use a restroom before navigating a metropolitan area.

Tim says we only almost got hit by other cars twice today. Don't worry, Mom -- I don't think it was that close. While he was talking to Penny on the cell phone, a woman looking as papers while driving tries to drift into my lane, right where I'm using it. Fortunately, the shoulder was wide there, and I drifted halfway onto it to avoid her.

St. Louis has odd signs, such as "I-70 ALL LANES" where the road then splits high and low, and doesn't seem to merge back together. Got lots of vies of the arch, but no pictures. Scared Tim with a merge onto I-70 where only the kindness (or self-preservation instinct) of strangers kept us in the lane, rather than in the large cement wall.

What's up with Missouri? I thought it was road-trip Scrabble when I saw the first sign with just a U on it. Then there was C, and T, and E, A DD, YY, and Z and A again, both on the same sign. Does the state only have 52 roads total?

Also, we stopped on I-70 during night work, paving one of two lanes. Missouri hasn't learned the pictogram for "lane ends: merge, stupid" of the one straight line and the one squiggly line to give drivers instant notice of the merge. Instead, there were signs in fairly small print stating, "left lane ends." Of course, the sports cars ignore this, zipping past all those who heed the signs, only to horn in at the last possible inch.

A nice semi tractor-trailer fixed this at an earlier slowdown in Kentucky, by driving in the middle of the two lanes. Even so, some yahoo kept trying to go around him instead of merging.

I find Dirk Gently's zen driving method to be a good way to go: find someone who looks like she knows where she's going, and follow the vehicle. Preferably, a large, identifiable truck butt.

Note to S. for F.T.: If you have long hair, travel with someone with short hair. This way, you can claim three of the large hotel bathroom towels for yourself, and he can dry his head with a handtowel. Also, pack a nightshirt, new underwear and new shirt in every suitcase you bring, so you''ll never have to sleep in the shirt you just wore all day because all you have in the suitcase you brought in is six pairs of socks, two bras, seven undies, three pairs of sandals and your swinsuit.

Amusing exit of the day: Golconda. (I'd thought they made up the term for White Wolf's "Vampire: The Masquerade" gaming system.)

Also saw signs in Missouri for Stone Hill winery, with a white-bearded man on the firth of three billboards who looked quite wizardly to me.

Signing off,
--Auntie Cheryl

change of plates

.: 18:13 :.

I've had the Doula licence plate on the van for the four years we've lived in Oregon. I decided that since I'm not working as a Doula currently, it was time to give it up for some other active Doula to claim. That meant that John could have a turn with a custom licence plate. An example of it is in the upper right corner! This will go on the Honda that John drives every day. :-)

Pacific Nowthwest Gathering mini report

.: 17:12 :.

This is Penny - I'm sure John will have a lot to say, but I wanted to get my comments in while I was thinking of them. I had great fun! I didn't drink a bit of coffee, but it smelled great. If I could stand the flavor of any of it, I might have had some. :-) But Mike McKoffee made up a special Road warrior White Chocolate Earl Grey Tea drink for me and the other tea drinker (Nancy, I think). Mike, as host, was half way invisible from where I was - he seemed to be constantly in motion and in the kitchen, but good foods kept appearing and everything seemed to go smoothly. He was a great host, as was Debi, but I hope they got to relax and enjoy the Gathering some too.

I took a bunch of pictures that aren't even on the computer yet. Mostly just people talking and drinking coffee shots. I expect they'll make it to the PNWG website in due course. Logan and I left to go yarn shopping for a while in the morning, after watching the vultures, oops I mean coffee fanatics gather around Alchemist John's zen roaster. The hot and cold running John's, um, well, that doesn't sound quite right does it. Ahem, the number of men named John at the Gathering was entertaining. Alchemist John, Wandering John, John - from - Vancouver, and John - Les's - Son. And we all had name tags that said who we were, more or less, and who from the list we'd come with.

So as a non coffee drinker, what did I do? I sat around and talked with people. I got a bunch of knitting done. I retrieved Miss Logan from several activities, and enjoyed watching her interact with a bunch of other folks. I got to talk knitting with Nancy (knitter), Carolyn (cross stitcher), Zara (crocheter), Mimi a bit (but I can't remember if she does anything with string) (I did try to sell her my house, land and a goat though, but she said she loves Portland. Oh well.) and a couple of other people whose names I can't remember. I also talked Science Fiction books with Oaxaca Charlie (he reads harder science than I do) and begged some ibuprofin from him when mine was lost. And I got to talk homeschool with Zara, whose three homeschooled teenagers were mostly invisible watching movies in Coffee Mike's livingroom. They did play with Logan a bit, which she loved. Logan ran around generally being a two year old. She climbed things that looked dangerous. Fed small ceramic squirrels some cherries or cherry pits. Petted or possibly harassed the resident senior cat. Stapled things. Rearranged people's cups. All the usual stuff. I hope she didn't get on anyone's nerves too badly.

So would I go to another one? Absolutly! When is the next PNWG going to be? A year from now? I want to help bring food. The food people brought was good and amazing, and it's got me thinking about what John and I could cook. I thought it was all a lot of fun, and I want to go back for more. Will the next one go for more than a day?

We got home to find a message that a chair I wanted to buy, which had already been sold, had become available -- so I called back, and was told it had been sold a few minutes before. Why did they bother calling and leaving a message if they wouldn't even hold it a few hours? That store has lost my business. Bleh!

signing off, still slightly cafinated (on tea)

Zen Coffee Roaster Finished -- Alchemist John

.: 04:54 :.

I have been working like a madman (or an alchemist in his lab) for the last week trying to get this coffee roaster finished and working. The main push is the PNWG (Pacific Northwest Gathering) of listmates from Sweet Maria's, my green coffee source. Well, it is done, with just a few details and cleaning up to do, but it looks like it will make it, albeit with out much or any testing. As to what I have been doing the last week, these are the insulators being cast for holding the heating coils. I made a model of wood, made an impression of it, then cast it in high density plaster. It then got numerous coats of high temperature stove paint and then installed. I did have a glitch that will need to be addressed. The plaster, after numerous curings, became brittle. Will have to remake them in something better. I have some backup test insulators for the gathering this weekend.

The whole drive assembley for the drum went together nicely. It consists of a 1/4" shaft running from the roast chamber, through two bronze oiled bushing, with a drive wheel at the end. The motor is mounted on the same 30 degree angle that the whole drum is tilted at, and is mounted on a hinge so that I can adjust the tension on the drive belt if needed. It was "fun" trying to get everything to line up and stay that way in three dimensions.

Any finally we come to the completed roaster. definitely not a light weight roaster, but also not nearly as heavy as it looks. If you notice it says "ZEN" on the side. This is two fold. I want the whole roaster to be one of balance and function wise, these are the air holes for the venting of the wiring area, so it does not overheat. The front was designed so that I can remove the entire switch area if need be, without remaking the entire from. Right now I have a main power switch, far left, three heater switches, the first turning on two coils, and finally the fan switch. I had hope to have this fan with a variable speed but its range was too small and not worth the effort. Finally you can see the fan in the back, the main power supply line and the 20 amp fuse.


The Official "Alchemist John's Zen Coffee roaster, alpha series"

Baby Art

.: 06:54 :.

This will be brief folks, John's got to get his roaster pictures up, and today is our music class day. But I wanted to put out these pictures that Logan took, on her own, with the digital camera. One of us, probably me, left it on the table, after taking a picture of something. So Logan found it, turned it on, and took four pictures. Two are blurry green, but these two aren't bad. So here they are for your viewing enjoyment.

Haying done

.: 06:34 :.

Getting our hay this year went the fastest ever. Partly because the guy we buy from loaded the truck with his hay loader machine on saturday night, which saved the assorted guys a lot of sweat and bother. Then he also stacked the rest into neat piles that were easy to pick up on Sunday morning. And because John and I weren't getting as much hay, that helped too. But it was still a couple hundred bales. No, sorry, I didn't take any pictures. I was watching Logan, and the antics of the three 9, 11 and 11 year old boys who were keeping her entertained. After lunch all three boys, sons of folks who came for the privilege of helping move hay, came over and played with Logan and asked me for jobs they could do for free. So every plant we could think of or find has been watered. The volvo and the van have been washed, to some degree. There's a new bat house up. There are many sticks collected from the pasture. And Logan got to spend a napless afternoon playing with bubbles, water, and boys. They blew up balloons for her. They played her musical instruments for her, and returned them to her when she had a sudden bout of possessiveness. They helped her manage the hose and watering can. It was constant action, but it wasn't the "mama entertain me" type that I'm used to, so it was great fun. We'll definitely do that again.

Today I'm off to the chiropractor and then to wash some more wool at Andrea and Aidan's house. Another exciting day in the life . . .

But I'll leave you with two more Florida pictures. Ryan and Logan and me reading at Ryan, Peg and Alan's house, and Rachel Turtle, Logan and "Baby" in Wilma's yard. Rachel and Joe turtle have both accompanied us back to Oregon, in their smaller, invisible and imaginary forms. Logan walks them along, holds their hands, feeds them, and takes them many places with her. She still has her two invisible mice, and occasionally a couple tigers all of whom she keeps in her pockets also.

Helloooo Out There

.: 08:22 :.

Hi Folks. I've heard that Wilma is so desperate for News From Oregon that she's reading the archives. I'm glad someone reads them. But I'll try to keep up a little better on new news too. We've had our offer accepted on the Dome house, after several back and forths changing bits of wording. Now we just have to sell The house we're in now and we can move. It will be a month or so at the very least, I believe. Probably more.

Here are a couple pictures from our Florida trip last month, Peg says it's okay to put Ryan here, so here are Ryan and Logan trying to catch up to a Florida Gopher Tortoise at my folks house. I'd never realized Gopher Tortoises could go that fast! Logan and Ryan had a great time following him (her? We didn't check.) Until he found an appropriate tortoise hole and slid out of sight.

Today John is hauling hay - we aren't getting much since we hope to be moving and able to get more from the guy we're buying from. But Ron and Carol next door still need their years supply, so off we go. John and a crew from next door were all out getting one load last night, and Logan and I are going to go along for todays load. With luck it won't take all day.

As I hurry off, I'll leave you with a final picture of Logan and Ryan - playing at a Peg and Alan's house. Oh, and Logan wants to put pictures of Auntie Cheryl here. Auntie Cheryl, are you reading? Yes or No?