dimanche 21 août 2011
vendredi 19 août 2011
Last night, we ventured out to the Grizzly Bar in Roscoe, which is about 20 miles away. It is a cute little town on Rosebud Creek, and the Grizzly Bar is a restaurant/bar inside a log cabin, across the street from the old dance hall where Liz's parents Bill and Joy met as teenagers. Liz is my sister-in-law; she lived in Billings until she was a teenager and spent lots of time out here in the foothills of the Beartooth Mountains. The food at the Grizzly is not too bad, and I was able to find a vegan option: pasta with steamed veggies. Normally, it is served in an alfredo sauce, but our waiter was happy to serve it in a little olive oil instead. We took the scenic route home -- actually, every route is scenic, but this was spectacular. The Beartooth Mountains with their snowy caps, the last traces of sunlight on the dark blue crags offsetting the golden yellow fields in a way that says: Montana, the blue and yellow state. We stopped in at Montana Jack's (formerly Montana Hannah's) for a nightcap and closed the place down with none other than the owner of the Dew Drop Inn. The girls approached him as they would a mega star: the Justin Bieber of Absarokee!!! After all, this place is our bargaining chip with them. We can only get them out of the cabin and into the wild if we promise to stop at the Dew Drop when it is all over. Unfortunately, I did not have my camera or I would have snapped a shot of Mr Dew Drop Inn. He and Mrs Dew Drop Inn are from Michigan originally and fell in love with this part of Montana on their way back from Sturgis one year. Yes, they are Harley enthusiasts. He told us the story of leaving for Michigan, his wife on the back of his Harley, when he realized she was crying. He stopped to ask why and she said she felt like she was leaving home, not going home. So they decided to make this place their home. He has big plans for the Dew Drop Inn. Much more than corndogs and oreo milkshakes.... to be continued.
jeudi 18 août 2011
A FB friend (Katherine Kaufman) posted this photo today. It was sent to her by a friend in Texas, and I thought it was urgent to give it broader distribution. Rick Perry is like George Bush, but dumber. Ya got that? Dumber than Bush. But just as ruthless. Knows who butters his biscuits, as someone just noted on television. Look at who is contributing to his campaign, folks! Walmart, Coca Cola... the big corporations and the billionaires. And you know what? He used to be a Democrat! It's all about doing what it takes to get elected.
dimanche 14 août 2011
vendredi 12 août 2011
I decided to leave the whole debt ceiling thing to the care of others and head for Montana, where a rag-tag crew had agreed to assemble for five days, in order to build a garage and studio/office/guest room adjacent to our cabin. It's going to have an admirable view, as you can see from the appropriate photo above. My primary challenge has been to keep this crew plus three finicky girls well fed throughout the framing process. Terry, my brother-in-law, is the mind and matter behind Paradigm Builders, his framing company. He's the best in the business and has a rock star client list to prove it. I'm not kidding.
I snapped a shot of Terry and his son Cory as they leveled something extremely important under the hot Montana sun.
Terry and Cory are being assisted by the owners of the cabin, my husband Walt and my brother Carl, both pictured above. They are also being assisted by Terry's younger son, Jordan, and Sage, my sister Carolyn's son and Terry's stepson. Jordan and Sage are captured above in a rare moment of repose on the sofa. They seemed to be skyping with some girls they met online, but I persuaded them to put the computer down for a second so I could get this shot.
The three girls (pictured above) have become adept at making and eating chocolate chip cookies under my benevolent guidance. Since we are at 4,400 feet, we tried the high altitude version once but found the result way too cake-y. We like 'em chewy and runny. Walt, who has the highest standards in this area, was on his knees for these chewy ones.
As for me, I am cooking up a bunch of grub that I'm not eating, since I have become a vegan. Actually, it is an experiment that I decided to try and have not yet completed. I heard the pot roast and resulting stew were fabulous, and so were the bbq-ed chicken breasts and today's Tex-mex extravaganza. I have perfected guacamole, which is something even vegans can eat. We started the week with tons of perishables in the refrigerator (more on that later), and I am proud to say that we have managed to save and eat most of them. Tonight, the cook is taking the night off, the crew members brought in by Terry are heading back to the city, and the rest of us are going to the Cowboy Bar and Supper Club in Fishtail, pop. about 20.
And tomorrow I will begin to work seriously on my new song, whose working title is It's Hard To Be A Vegan In Montana (sung to the tune of Merle Haggard's I'm Proud To Be An Okie in Muskogee).