Overheard at the Volleyball Court...

So, I was presiding over a four-kid game of volleyball last week when I heard one of the boys lower his voice and ask one of the girls how old I am. The girl, who'd learned my age earlier in the week, replied matter-of-factly, "She's twenty-nine." My jaw dropped when the boy replied, "No, she's way older than that!"

Thanks, kid.

Lynda

Happy Birthday, Steven!

Today is my brother Steven's birthday. Steven, I hope you're having a great day. I love you!

Lynda

The Great Goat Fiasco of 2008

I want you to look closely at this little goat. He is not cute (actually, he is). He is certainly not stronger or more willful than me (actually, he is). I did not think it was funny that he refused to be led along down the road we were walking on (actually, I did). I'm trying to be angry at this little goat, but it's not working.

On Fridays, we talk about farmers, and one of our planned activities is visiting the goats, sheep, and ponies to pet and feed them. Last Friday was very cold and windy, so our plans were scuttled, and we were penned up inside the dining hall coloring. The kids were growing restless with an hour left to go when I had the bright idea to go get two of the baby goats and bring them up to the dining hall to visit the kids. I asked Sarah, one of my fellow Kid's Club wranglers, to go with me to get the two baby goats. We laughed to ourselves that we were probably biting off more than we could chew, and we were right.

We chased and leashed the two little goats and got them outside the pen when their mama began to notice their absence. We had mama goat and both babies fighting to get closer to each other, and you'd be surprised how much fight is in a 30-pound baby goat. About this time, one of the horse wranglers shouted out to us that we'd have a much easier time if we took mama, too. I looked at mama's size and decided that I'd rather fight it out with the two babies than juggle mama, too.

We got about twenty yards down the road (in 10 minutes), and it was a constant cycle of pull, coax, bleat, choke, release, and repeat. Frustrated but laughing, we quit caring about their muddy (and poopy) feet and picked them up to carry against our chests, but they craned their little necks and started chewing our hair. Defeated, I turned to Sarah and told her that I thought the wrangler was right: it was time to go get mama. I returned to the pen, picked out a 'mama' (there were two identical female goats), leashed my choice, and headed down the road toward Sarah and the two babies. Mama goat weighs a good 90 pounds, I'd say, and I had to wrestle her away from several flower beds between the pen and the place the babies stood.

The babies followed 'mama', but hesitantly. I have named the particular goat pictured "Flopper" because he continually jumped straight in the air, hooves kicking, and flopped down on his side to avoid walking in the direction we were going. In the end, all three goats reached the dining hall, and the kids were quite pleased to pet them and feed them grass from the pasture. It was not until I returned the babies to the pen, and they ran straight to the other female goat to nurse, that I realized I'd chosen the wrong mama. Oh, well.

In other news, I found some really great boots at the thrift store when we got here, and I'm so proud of them that I want to show them off. We wear boots three days out of the week here, so we made it one of our first missions on arrival to find some good second-hand boots. With no further ado, I present the best boots a girl can hope to find second-hand:

Now, those are ranchy.

Lynda

Snow!

This is what the ranch looked like on Tuesday:

And this is how the ranch looked when we woke up yesterday morning:

We'd not heard the snow forecast, so we were both shocked. All the guests had a great time building snowmen and having snowball fights. The kitchen staff played Christmas music, and in Kid's Club, we sang Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and Jingle Bells. The snow continued most of the day, and although the sun is shining today, there's still some snow on the ground. I've heard that they've seen 'surprise' snow at the ranch every month but July...

Lynda

First Days

Well, we arrived late on Wednesday night, relieved that our long trip from OK to CO was so easy. The weather here is more changeful (like it? I made it up.) than Houston's! Thursday saw pea-sized hail, rain, and sunshine, all in relatively quick succession. On Friday, we had hail again, snow, and saw the sun again within a short time. Saturday, we had a light snow of fat flakes, and then the sun came out warm enough that I walked around outside with no jacket. Today's weather is looking even better than yesterday's.

We're living in a very cozy guest cabin right next to the ranch's offices. Characteristically, Rob had all his things unpacked within 24 hours, and well, I'm still working on it. There's a shelf on one of the walls where we've put some of our favorite pictures (and all our snacks!), so it does really feel a little home to me.

Some of the summer staff are already here, though most will not arrive until Monday or Tuesday. We've seen some familiar faces, and have enjoyed getting to know new ones. Both the ranch director and the ranch foreman have babies that make regular appearances at meal times. I've felt pretty good since I've gotten here, but it's really nice to have a reminder of what we're heading toward with this pregnancy. Both are beautiful children and their parents are having a really great time with them.

The views here are amazing, and are so majestic that they never become just scenery. Our cabin faces Long's Peak, and every time I walk out I freeze for half of a second as if I'm seeing it for the first time, and I'm amazed that this is my home now. We plan on posting some pictures soon!

Guests start arriving a week from today and there's lots to be done to get the ranch and programs ready. We'll appreciate any prayers that you can offer for us, the staff and the guests that are coming!

Lynda

And we're off...

Greetings from Muskogee, Oklahoma, USA! Where they still wave ole glory down at the courthouse...sing along if you know the words. We arrived at my parents' house late last night and we'll spend the day lounging with family before leaving tomorrow morning for Estes Park. It's hard to imagine that we'll be at the ranch tomorrow night.

It was a ton of work, but with the help of family and friends we finally got our house renovated, packed, and cleaned - it really looks fantastic. I'm confident the first person to look at the house will buy it for our full asking price - and throw in a few thousand dollars just because. It was a little strange, but as we worked on the house these last two weeks, it didn't really feel like our house anymore. Our home had become a commodity - something to maximize - there was no emotion to it.

But as we walked through the house taking pictures and turning out lights, the emotion came. This was the house were Lynda and I shared our first kiss, where we first uttered the "L" word, where I proposed, where we spent our first married night, where we found out that Lynda is pregnant. This creaky, old house was our home. And it was hard to leave.

We locked the door, backed out of the driveway, and drove away for the last time. By the time we hit the beltway, our tears had dried and we were talking about Colorado and what it will be like there. Leaving is like that. We're sad to leave the life we know, but now that the journey has started, our minds turn quickly toward the life we will have.

That is why our eyes are in the front of our heads - so we can see where we are going, not where we have been.

Playing Coy

We heard the baby’s heartbeat today! I’ve (Lynda) been looking forward to this appointment for some time, since I’m several weeks away from the ultrasound that can determine gender, and I’ve heard that you can sometimes predict a baby’s gender from the speed of their heartbeat. Evidently, a rapid heartbeat (about 160 bpm) indicates a girl, and a slower heartbeat (140 bpm) indicates a boy. My doctor dismissed this as a wives’ tale, but several family members and friends have said that it proved true with their babies.

So, the moment arrived…the doctor put the Doppler wand on my stomach, and after some hunting picked up a little heartbeat. I held my breath while she checked her watch and counted off the beats. She paused and announced, “The heart rate is 150.” 150?! Right in the middle? I hope this child gets a little more cooperative when he/she leaves my belly. Ugh. I’m counting down until that ultrasound now...