Mushroom memories

Mushroom season is here.

Although I won't be hunting morels this year, I am indulging myself in mushroom memories.

You won't be surprised that these memories involve Mimi,

who delighted in this seasonal treat.

The mushroom was wonderful 

 but the hunt, out in the spring woods at the farm,

seeking out those hidden sites

 and finding the well-hidden treasures

ah - that was a triumph!

All the more fun with a Mimi picnic on the farmhouse porch afterwards.

Oh Mimi, I miss you in Mushroom Season!

Roaming in Wyoming

Oh we've been places...

travelling


by plane

and by car

across the prairies

into the high plains

and mountains

to spend some time with Dr. Hausfrau and family

in their native habitat.

We went exploring

the very old stuff

the more recent old stuff

and the just plain beautiful stuff.

Mountains and water and rocks and sky.

Endlessly changing, something new in every direction we looked.

Pictures are wonderful reminders

of some great excursions.

Everywhere we went, the environment was different and new.

We filled our eyes with views of broad vistas

and the closer views of plants new-to-us.

It seems as if I was constantly taking pictures

and there was constantly something worth another picture.

No wonder my father and grandfather talked about their trip out here

 for 70 years or so afterwards.

It's hard to pick a favorite scene - is it water?

Or rock?

Maybe a kid?

Maybe a moose?

Maybe the lingering light from sunset as we waited for the stars to come out?

Oh, my favorite scenes may be the ones

I didn't get pictures of...

Granddad in Winter

Granddad was not too sure about Christmas.

It's hard for him to keep track of the months.

He  did have a few clues that it was a holiday.

(You know he loves hats any time.)

He had company,

and he always loves having company.

He amused the folks in his dining hall on New Year's Eve.

The horn was loud enough that even the hearing-challenged heard it.

But the next day, having dinner with his family all around the table, he had to head out for the ER.

He was in the hospital for seven days.

He doesn't remember this at all.

 It was worrying enough to bring far-flung family together to visit him.

He left the hospital to return to the nursing home in palliative care.

Declining, on oxygen, not eating, feeble...

we all sat and worried around his bed.

Yesterday I went to the nursing home as usual.

The nurse could hardly wait to tell me what Granddad had done.

I expected to hear that he'd maybe sat up in his wheelchair.

Well, yes, he did that.

And more.

He'd gone off with a group of nursing home residents to have lunch at the Golden Corral.

What?!

"I filled my belly," says the man who has been refusing food for three weeks.

That Granddad!  

Just like him to go from death's door to a steak dinner.

As his favorite hat says:

"I'm 95.

I'm allowed."

Pranked!

"Let's hide eggs down by the pond," they said. 

"Gotta stay up here with Granddad," I said.

So the Wild Westerner ran away to the pond anyway, and naturally I had to go...

And why are these people all laughing?

Oh , look!

There's a strange bird swimming in the pond!

Getting ready for Easter

The Wild Westerner arrived for Easter.

Not your traditional Easter bonnet, but very appropriate!

He established a bond with Granddad over cookies and milk, 

and furthered by a mutual desire for CANDY, NOW!

He demonstrated amazing dexterity...

some of it indelible.

It was a great idea, dying eggs with shaving cream.

Here's the person who came up with this year's Easter Egg dying technique

demonstrating that it can be done delicately.

Or not...

the process does make a colorful mess...

and the eggs smell strongly of Barbisol.

One weekend, many celebrations -- not enough pictures

One quick weekend...

it was Mother's Day weekend (note the balloon, now on its second year of celebration)

and there were fabulous flowers.

(lots more pictures of flowers than people!)

It was a weekend for Company and getting together and eating.

A weekend for presents

and sharing.

It was also someone's birthday, and the Wy Cowgirl took his picture but no one took a picture of cake and candles and so forth. 

There was time for conversation

and time for a walk in the woods.

One quick weekend, not enough pictures,  lots of good memories.