But today looked decent so we snagged the opportunity, and ran up to Valier to fish on Lake Frances. I’ve been wanting to go up for some time because a friend of mine is now the mayor of Valier, plus the lake and the little town has always intrigued me. It seems like a neat area.

So we loaded the Subaru – actually packed it to capacity – and with Luna on my lap headed the 80 miles to Valier. This was Luna’s first ride besides coming home from Augusta (she slept most of the way), but she did fine. I bought a harness and leash for her this week because I didn’t want to lose her in a hole, nor have the boys chase her across the ice (which, of course, in my motherly mind is riddled with dangerous holes). She did surprisingly fine with it. There was no flopping on the ground, having a tizzy, or acting like I’m killing her. She walked right along like an old ice fishing pro.

Fishing went well. There was nothing enormous, but the important part is both Sam and John caught some. Sam pulled up a couple of little perch, then Grant helped John reel a couple out of the hole. They were tiny guys, and we ultimately threw them back to grow bigger for the next time, but the boys were excited. Grant and his brother Marc got a few pike via the tip-ups, as well as through the holes in the tent. We weren’t bringing home the lunkers, but it was still a good time.

I was equally proud of Luna. She had a lot of fun playing on the ice and running around. But when she got tired that was it. She curled up the bag full of hats and mittens I brought with us, and snored away. Who knew such a little creature could sound like a buzz saw? She was out.

By the time we packed up pike camp mid-afternoon the ice was extra slick from the sun melting the top so I had a heck of a time pulling the boys back to the truck. Talk about spinning my boots. I couldn’t gain a hold to break free the sled, and wished I would’ve taken up Marc’s offer on the cleats. I finally got it moving, and skidded them back to the truck as Grant and Marc pulled up the tip ups. Of course, John had to dance in the mud next to the truck so his boots were caked with gumbo. It was good to finally have them strapped in their car seats.

On our way home we swung by my friend’s place. She has the coolest house – it’s an old farmstead home from 1914 that was moved into town many years ago. Of course, she’s fixing it up, and will do an incredible job of it. I can’t wait to see it in the summer because I’m sure all of the gardens look fantastic.

overall, it was a great day outside and out of our typical routine. We wrapped it up with Grant making fish cakes using most of the meat from the pike we brought home. Can’t beat it.

Most gardeners I know are a bunch of pack rats. It’s hard to throw out things when you think you might have a purpose for them. This is why you see mini gardens are planted in old boots, and whole gardens are ingeniously created in the confines of a brass or iron bed. When it comes to recycling, we are the best! The problem begins when it’s impossible to part with anything. Speaking from experience, there simply isn’t enough room.

And don’t even get me started on the seeds . I actually inventoried what I had a couple of weeks ago - unfortunately it was after I sent in my first order of seeds – but I managed to part with some that were many years old.  I could’ve used some post-tossing counseling. It’s painful because I know a couple of seeds might grow, but I’m trying to learn from my mistakes last year. I used old seed on several occasions with terrible results. Once again, it’s holding onto something that has an outside chance of being useful. I felt pretty proud of myself after I stopped twitching.

But with the seed catalogs piled on the desk, I doubt if my organization will stay that way for very long. My order from Johnny’s Selected Seeds has already arrived. I ordered a whole lot of spinach from them for some reason (like I said, I should’ve inventoried first) as well as the new ‘Flowering Sprouts.’ This is a hybrid between Brussels’ sprouts and kale that boasts beautiful little flower-looking mini sprouts on tall stalks . They had a big, pretty picture on the back of the catalog so I had to try it. The seeds were expensive… over $10 for a packet of seeds… but it’ll be an interesting experiment.

I also ordered more of the ‘Maxifort’ tomatoes for rootstock, and slightly larger silicon clips since I tend to let the tomatoes go too long. They did fine last year, but hopefully this will make it a neater job for photos. I plan to graft a lot (although I doubt if I’ll use all 400 clips I now own).  Besides the ‘Brandywines’ that did so well, I’ll do the ‘Old World Paste,’ ‘Hillbilly’ and maybe the new ‘Indigo Rose.’ The latter is a fabulous hybrid I found in Johnny’s. It’s almost purple, and is supposed to have exceptional flavor. We’ll see. I’ll plant some the regular way, and graft a few of them to see how much better they do.

spring cleaning the garden shed and organizing the seeds is the first step I need to do in the spring.  It does help me make a better plan for the garden – even if it all falls apart by the time planting is over – and helps me from spending way too much in those pretty, pretty seed catalogs.

So I bundled up the boys in all of their cold weather gear, including the fabulous elbow length mittens I bought this fall. One of the greatest challenges in small child outdoor fun is keeping those gloves or mittens on their pudgy little hands. If one come off, you might as well pack it up. I hate having my hands feel like ice, so I can’t really blame them, but it does put a damper on the activities. Since I wanted to find a way to spend time outside during the winter, I broke down to buy a couple of pairs to give them a test run. They’re worth it. I pulled those babies half-way up their arms, and pulled on the coats. The mittens did not come off.

As we wandered into the wintry whiteness John exclaimed, “It’s a snowy day!” Sam made a snow angel, then both boys headed over to the slide. A couple of inches of snow sure makes it an exciting ride. They went up and down that thing more times than I can count. John needed a little help once and awhile since he was bundled up pretty good, and couldn’t climb the ladder very well, but they had a great time.

Luna, our new black lab pup, joined us for a short time. She loves dashing around the sunflowers and other snow covered garden plants. Actually, I think this is the first time I’ve mentioned Luna on this site. We lost Melvin many months ago, and the house has been unusually quite. While I kept lobbying for various labs and mixes, Grant maintained a low enthusiasm level. I thought he was holding out for a small dog. (We are a mixed family. Give me a dog the size of a small horse I’m happy as anything. He prefers the mini dachs and terriers. Analyze that.) Much to my surprise, he found Peggy and John Warner in Augusta, who have a good reputation for labs in this area. We headed over to Augusta a month ago to take a look at her and meet the parents (which impressed me and sealed the deal).  We picked her up a couple of weeks ago. The first couple of nights she woke up once, but since then I’ve been impressed. She sleeps all night without a peep out of her. As for housetraining, she’s getting the hang of it. Accidents still happen, but at least she’s starting to scratch on the door when nature calls. Anyways, she loves running around in the snow for a short amount of time. After her little feet became cold, she wanted back inside to hang out with the cat.

People often ask how the chickens fare during these cold spells. When it’s below zero, I don’t even let them outside.  The hard part is providing them with enough water because it freezes so quickly. We’ve tried heated buckets, but I really don’t want the chickens to end up in their own little hottub. I’m looking into other options – including one that’s similar to a rabbit waterer  that is heated – so they can have fresh water without having to make 3 or 4 trips out there each day. Plus, it always concerns me that they may not drink enough before it freezes, particularly when they’re busy eating the treats I bring them. Overall, they’re doing well and still giving us 4 to 6 eggs each day, including at least 3 very impressive double yokers. The Leghorns are always our over-achievers on that one.

After a short time, we decided to head back inside. Although John wasn’t complaining, his calf was exposed because his snowpants are just a little too short (and the others I have are a bit big). I figured I better pull the cocoa card to coax them inside before it was uncomfortable. It was an ideal way to wrap up a fun time kicking around in the sunshine and snow.

This spring Sam decided he wanted to grow popcorn. We were at Bundi Gardens, and he saw the popcorn plants in the containers and had to have them. I can easily tell the boys “no” in the grocery store when they’re begging for candy or the ‘Angry Bird’ merchandise, but can’t say “no” to a plant request. We came home with popcorn.

He planted it and took care of it throughout the summer, and was delighted when the little ears formed. The plants thrived until the earwigs found them. They ate all the silks and crawled in and out of the ears like they were little corn condos. It was horrible. I had little hope we’d have anything worthwhile by the time the earwigs were done with them., but we still harvested a few ears to dry.

Fast forward a few months…Sam’s big brother, Blaine, got a popcorn machine for Christmas. Sam remembered his popcorn from the summer, and wanted to try it. So we did. Much to my surprise, it was mature enough and did pop up into nice, big fluffy bites. I’m impressed! Sam already said he wants to put in a whole field so we can have popcorn all of the time. I’m not sure if that’s going to happen, but he’ll definitely be able to plant more.

Thankfully, I met Jennephyr Reiche-Sterling, a fabulous herbalist who lives near here. She’s been immersed in how herbs can help us for decades and is a wonderful teacher with a heart to making people well. Since I’ve been running at 50,000 miles per hour for many years, I had her over last spring to recommend herbs I could take to help support my adrenals and even-out my frazzled system. We talked for a while about what was going on in my life, then she recommended specific herbs to use in a tea for me to drink during the day and another one for the evening since I typically don’t sleep without help. Benadryl is my friend, although I’m trying to change that (and have actually gone nights without it).

In our discussions, she also taught me about tinctures. She recommended one with licorice, eleuthero (Siberian ginseng) and vitex (chaste tree berry) to smooth out my hormones that have been giving me fits lately, and to help my body better deal with everyday stress. This fall I decided to make that one, as well as one to help me fend off colds and flus.

I only have dried herbs to work with this year so for my cold kicker I used roughly 4 ounces of elderberries and 4 ounces of echinacea root in a quart of brandy. Then the hard part: I had to let it sit. I would shake it when I remembered, but for the most part, I left it alone for 8 weeks. I did the same with the licorice, eleuthero and vitex, although each one was in smaller amounts. I think it was roughly 3 ounces a piece. After enough time passed - I joked when it tasted awful –  I strained it through a strainer, then poured it through cheesecloth to remove the smaller particulates. Once that’s done, it’s a matter of bottling it in dark bottles and keeping it handy. When I feel a cold coming on, I’ll put a dropper full of the tincture in warm water 2-3 times per day. And I’ll take the other one a couple of times a day just to try to snap my hormones back in shape.

It’s very good to be able to create simple remedies to maintain your health. My next project is a figure out how to do a glycerin tincture. It doesn’t last as long as alcohol based tinctures, which will last practically indefinitely, but I like to have options. The good thing is Jennephyr is teaching classes and hold herb walks in our area again this year, and with the boys being older, I’m confident I’ll be able to attend some of them. Plus, the Montana Herb Gathering, an annual event packed with world-class herbalists, is scheduled to be held in Augusta this year, which is only about an hour from us. I’m going to have to check it out. There’s so much to learn!

My friend, Laura Beth, loaned me a Pampered Chef stone baking pan that has 6 mini cake sections in it so I could make cute little treats. Our first batch was an orange-chocolate cake from Ina Garten on the Food Network. I love the orange and chocolate combination; it’s very festive and something different. We made a bunch of those that went to my editors at the Great Falls Tribune. It’s always fun to bring in a few treats for them, and to actually speak in person. Most of our correspondence is through email and occasional phone calls if we really have to clarify a story or have a quick answer to a question. But they’re a wonderful group of people so it’s fun to drop in simply to catch up a little bit, although I must say I always feel guilty since I’m interrupting work. (But I still will because I like to!)

A couple of days ago we made a batch of gingerbread cakes and another of the orange/chocolate cakes. Yesterday we did a rhubarb and yogurt coffee cake that we love, although I couldn’t put it in the 6 mini cake molds because of the topping used on it. I think that will be our breakfast Christmas morning. The high point of the day was the butter cake. This is an extraordinarily simple cake, and with a pound of butter in it, you know it’s delicious. It’s hard to stop eating it. My problem was the pan. I forgot this cake tends to puff and flow, and didn’t remember until I smelled smoke. When I went into the kitchen there was an eye level haze. I grabbed cookie sheets and slid them underneath the baking pan to catch the dripping batter, then I opened doors and windows. Finally, I grabbed a spatula to scrape the charred hunks off of the bottom of the oven. What a mess! The boys were huddled on the couch wrapping themselves in the lap blanket, acting like they were overwintering in the back country. Thankfully the cake still came out scrumptious. Unfortunately, it refused to come out of the mold, but that didn’t stop us. We obviously didn’t share it with our friends, but there’s not a bit of it that will go to waste.

Today Sam and I took it over to a few of our neighbors up here. Sam thought it was a pretty big deal. Our first stop was Julie’s, who has 5 kids including a couple of  boys right around Sam’s age. It took about 30 seconds for him to ask to go see their bunk beds. He’s been fascinated with bunk beds lately so to actually climb on one made his day. It was a treat for me to be able to sit down and chat for a couple of minutes, plus it’s a blessing that Sam has a heart for others. He’s the one who thought of doing this. And it’s such a sweet sound to hear him wish others a Merry Christmas!

For those interested in the cake that got away. Here is the recipe for the Butter Cake. It’s also in the current issue of Pies and Cakes magazine published as part of the Popular Kitchen series. I have a whole article on simple cakes, including the gingerbread and rhubarb/yogurt cake. Plus, there’s one for a Flourless Chocolate Cake that is extremely rich, but perfect for those with gluten issues. Enjoy!

Butter Cake

2 cups sugar

1 ½ cups butter (3 sticks), softened

4 eggs, room temperature

3 cups flour

1 ½ tsp. baking powder

½ tsp. baking soda

½ tsp. salt

1 cup buttermilk

1 T. vanilla

Butter sauce

1 ½ cups powdered sugar

2/3 cup butter

1 T. vanilla

6 T. water

~ Cream together butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add eggs one at a time and thoroughly mix. In a separate bowl mix flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Add flour mixture and buttermilk alternately into the butter mixture. Add vanilla.  Pour into a greased and floured 9 x 13 cake pan.

~ For the butter sauce place butter, vanilla and water in a medium sauce pan. Stir over medium heat until the butter is melted. Beat in powdered sugar.  Pour butter sauce over the batter.  Bake at 350 degrees F for 40 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean.

So I’m thoroughly enjoying the mild conditions and lack of snow (it’s staying in the mountains, which is where we need it). The boys and I are going out just about every afternoon just to catch a few rays and have some fresh air. They like herding the chickens around the yard and running them back into the pen, and it’s good exercise for them to kick around the ball for a while. Anything to burn up some of their energy is a good thing in my book. And the beauty is we can do all this without bulky snow pants and gloves that eventually come off.

While we’re out I look at the garden to inventory what needs to be done in the spring, and changes I want to make next year. I have a lot of clean up to do, but that’s okay. I’m not a big one for fall clean up, partly because I like watching the birds use the stuff and partly because I’m burned out by the end of the season. After scrambling to wrap up my gardens, plus the community gardens, I don’t want to deal with it. Plus, I like to burn, and there’s nothing more satisfying than torching a pile in the early spring.

Another positive aspect of lazy fall gardening practices is I can see where I had things so I can make changes. I think where we put Sam’s popcorn, we’ll plant a whole bed of dill. I didn’t have enough last year for my various canning adventures. Dill can be weedy, but I say, “Bring it on!” I don’t think I can have too much dill. The tomatoes did exceptionally well this year, but I don’t want to keep them in the same area since they’ll pull the same nutrients out of the soil, ultimately depleting it. Plus, it’s an invitation for disease to plant the same crop in the same area year after year. So, I think I’ll put them where the carrots were this year. I planted a cover crop in the fall, and will add more compost before putting in the seedlings, but it should do okay. On the other hand, I might put them in a completely new area because I need a space where I can build a frame around it. They tomatoes sorely needed support, and I have to step up my efforts. Those puny tomato cages aren’t going to cut it for the monsters I’m growing!

This time of year, particularly with these ideal conditions, is my planning time. And if the weather continues like this I’ll be ready to go by the time it warms up for real.

I truly believe the university setting influences the area, evident from the community gardens popping up throughout town and businesses geared towards an outdoor lifestyle. The Bozeman Community Food Co-op is a place I adore visiting. That’s where I snagged the quinoa orange salad that I immediately brought home and replicated. Anytime I can grab food outside of the norm I go for it, and Bozeman is a really good place to find it.

I opened the piece talking about it being an area where you wouldnt be surprised if you saw a horse tied up to a tree in the grocery store parking lot. This isn’t something I pulled out of the blue. When we were down there for several days to research the piece, we stopped at a grocery store and there were 3 horses tied to the trees in the parking lot. My first thought was, “The landscape crew has to love this!” But the neat thing is it is quintessentially Montana, and really isn’t that much of an anomaly.

It’s funny, even though I’ve been freelancing for well over a decade I still love to see my articles in print. Granted, the Great Falls Tribune articles that appear nearly every Saturday definitely help since it’s almost instant gratification, but there’s nothing that beats the magazines with all of the pretty pictures. There’s just something about seeing top-notch photography accompany my writing to pull the story together.

Every freelancer’s story is different. I’ve always been a writer. When I was in second grade I wrote little books on how to train your dog or your horse, and sold them to my classmates for a nickel. All went well until the nuns busted me and made me return the money. Obviously, creativity and capitalism is discouraged in the Catholic church. (Just kidding – we need a “sarcasm text” in our online font selection.)

When I was an adult and working on natural history films for National Geographic, I often found myself with a lot of time and no place to go. There are not many options but to read or write when you’re camped out on a carcass waiting for a grizzly or lynx to wake up and do something. I wrote a lot. It was mostly multi-page epistles to family and friends talking about what I saw during the latest filming trip, or about what I needed to do in the gardens when I returned home.

Writing for money started when I sent information out to magazines to promote my business, Shady Side Herb Farm, in Coram, Montana. I had over 200 raised beds built out of stone where I grew thousands of herbs, flowers and perennials, so I sent information out in hopes of generating publicity. To my surprise, several of the editors asked me to write the articles. I was paid to do this. Little did I realize, those were my first query letters, but it was an endeavor that quickly hooked me into a new angle on my career. I’ve always loved teaching, and this was the perfect venue for me to share my years of successes and failures in growing in a very cold climate.

My first big article was “Cold Climate Gardening”  in Fine Gardening. The editor, Lee Anne White, came out and we had a great time taking photos very early in the morning. There was also an article in Mary Englebreit’s Home Companion, and photos in Garden Design magazine on an article about my gardens. Talk about a rush!

It was a bit of a learning curve when I began until I figured out how to best make life easier for my editors, and to write what they needed. Part of the trick was researching publications ( translation – reading a whole lot of magazines to determine their audience and focus) and sending out innumerable query letters. At first this meant a lot of rejections, which was okay since it was all part of the learning process; plus I was busy with landscaping and making lotion bars for my other business, Montana Mercantile, so I didn’t have enough time to seriously pursue it. I kept fairly steady. It wasn’t full time, by any means, but it kept me interested.

Now that I’m home with the boys, and only have one business to run instead of three (although I think juggling all the work was easier than keeping up with Sam and John), I’m focused on my writing and love it more than I thought possible. I’m blessed to be able to interview local people (who are fantastic) about interesting subjects, as well as research larger articles or share my decades of experience (as I say, if you kill enough plants you figure out a few things)  for national publications. I’m paid to learn. You can’t beat that! There are undoubtedly challenges with the fluctuating economy, but adaptability is one of my strong points. If I have to change topics, the style or even the format – who would’ve thought I’d be making gardening videos and podcasts – and I’m delighted in the opportunities.

The only thing that makes it better is when the articles appear in print. Soon I’ll have an article in the Tribune on ways to make snowy days more bearable (with fantastic cooking tips) appear in print and their website, which is always wonderful since I can share it with people outside of our circulation area. On the newstands now I have an article, Gardening on Cue, in Hobby Farms Home about phenology and how it relates to gardening;  the Organic Gardening piece on Bozeman should be on the stands for a couple of months; and for the rest of the year people can read my article on alternative heating options in the 2012 Farmers’ Almanac. I’m sure as long as I do this, I’ll never grow tired of seeing the articles in their final form, which is good because I don’t think I’m ever going to run out of topics I want to share with everyone.

I learned to bake bread when I worked at the Izaak Walton Inn in Essex. We were roughly 60 miles from Kalispell so the best way to ensure good bread and baked goods was to bake our own. Vivian, a local woman who came in to bake pies for us, showed me the ropes. It took some trial and error, including baking a whole batch of raisin bread with big holes in the center (it was over-risen). But it was a good experience to have to make bread, rolls and all sorts of yummy baked goods. One of my all-time favorites was making cinnamon rolls. There’s nothing like dumping the big pan with the hot and gooey cinnamon rolls with sugar sauce dripping all over the place… and such a shame if one of the rolls happened to be messed up in the process. There had to be some sort of quality control!

Bread can be a little fussy if you don’t have the right temperature for it to rise. At the Inn we had a great spot in the kitchen above the work area where it was perfectly warm. When I started baking at home, it was more difficult. My kitchen has always been cooler than the one at the Inn so it would take forever for the bread to rise.

I also took a long time find a recipe that I liked. This year I finally found one that suited everyone. It’s not a plain white bread, but isn’t full of seeds and twigs (as my hubby puts it), either. It uses honey, which we have a ready supply, and I’m careful to use the right kind of flour. I prefer a mix of  the Wheat Montana white flour and the Kamut Khorasan brand wheat from nearby Big Sandy, Montana. This makes a very nice textured bread with a fantastic flavor.

The Kamut brand is a fantastic product. It’s an ancient wheat that originated in Egypt, and found it’s way to Montana when a soldier in WWII send home a handful of seeds. It grows extremely well with dryland farming practices in this part of the country, and is raised organically by licensed growers.  I wrote an article on it for Healthy MT magazine, and was amazed to learn of its antioxidant qualities.  What really struck me is most people who have intolerances to wheat – not gluten allergies as with celiacs disease – can eat Kamut Khorasan wheat without a problem. But I like it because it tastes good. It has a nutty quality and sweet flavor. I like it so much that I packed a couple of pounds in my suitcase when we went back to Ohio. Surprisingly, the TSA folks didn’t check my bag.

Here is the recipe I use every week for our bread. It’s a family favorite – plus I won ” Best Bread” at the Montana State Fair with it this year. This is pretty fool proof, even for newbies.

3 cups warm water

2 tablespoons yeast

2/3 cup honey

5 cups white flour

~ Mix these ingredients and allow it to bubble and rise for about 30 minutes. Add:

3- 4 cups whole wheat flour (you have to kind of play it by feel)

2/3 cup honey

1 tablespoon salt

3 tablespoons butter

~ Mix in the final ingredients until well incorporated. I let it roll in the KitchenAid mixer until it’s an elastic ball. Then I place it on a floured surfaced and knead the dough for about 5 minutes. (The Kamut brand wheat doesn’t need as much kneading as other flours.) Put it in a buttered bowl, cover with a towel and allow it to rise until it’s doubled. This is pretty temperature dependent; most of the time it’ll take 2 to 3 hours. Once it’s risen sufficiently, divide evenly into three hunks of dough, and form into 3 buttered pans. Cover with the towel again and allow it to rise. It’ll take at least an hour to double again. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 30 minutes. Dump out of the pans to cool before eating or freezing.

I would love to see images of that building project because this is a tall structure with the classic, steep roof. When Dad had the guy fix a few of the slate pieces that started to break loose several years ago (with slate the nails give out before the slate does), it required a firetruck ladder to reach it. I remember him saying it was excrutiating to watch the guy bob up and down in the wobbling basket. I can only imagine what it felt like being the one up there doing it!

When we were back, Grant trimmed the bottom of one of the end doors because it was sticking a bit. With all of the rain, things are bound to settle. Plus, when a structure is nearly a century old things just aren’t square anymore. My nieces, the boys and I ran over to the barn from my sister’s home so the boys could see the new goats, the herd of cats and my sister’s horses. Well, actually only Neelah (also called “Brat Beauty”) is hers, Babe the Wonder Mare is a friend’s horse who stays with Neelah. She is one of those sweetheart horses that comes along once in a lifetime. My nieces are very blessed to have the barn right next door, and they certainly have a good time there. The boys loved it, too. The pygmy goats are an absolute hoot, and I would’ve loved to take home the little tabby cat named Bella. My sister is teetering on crazy cat lady status, only redeemed by her valiant efforts to capture and spay/vaccinate as many of them as she can. She’s found homes for about a dozen of them so far. If dragging a potentially yowling feline on the play wouldn’t have completely tipped me over the edge on the stress meter, I definitely would’ve taken home Bella. (Hint to any Ohio folks who are looking for a wonderful cat.)

Since grain spilled on the floor from giving treats to the horses and goats, I grabbed the broom to clean it up. Sam quickly took over and would’ve broomed the whole lower level if I didn’t drag him away to catch up with the rest of the pack of children. On the way out, we had to stop at the pump. I can’t count the times I drank out of it. Anytime we were at the farm, we headed to the pump to quench our thirst. Sam was pretty excited about that device, too. I got it going, and we added more to the trough for the horses. There are so many fun things to do that I know we didn’t spend enough time there. Geez, you’d think 2 weeks would be adequate time to be able to kick back and enjoy these things, but I guess not.

The one thing that’s gone in the barn is the old rope upstairs. When we were little, my brother Bobby and I, and eventually my sister Leigh (she’s 9 years younger than I am) swung from one hay ladder to the other. We climbed up several rungs, then flew to the next set. It was a blast. Well, one day I took flight and “thump!” the rope snapped and I hit the ground in a cloud of dust and probably bat poop. Rather than risk an audible giggle and resulting beating, Bobby and Leigh took off running. Nothing but my ego was hurt, but the rope never was put up again. (I can’t blame Dad for that. There’s no way you could pay me enough to secure it up there!) Maybe one of these days we’ll talk someone into scaling one of the ladders and toss a new rope over the beam so the next generation can swing.