Idaho Falls

When Zac and I hit the road again, we went to Idaho Falls for a night and a day -- just long enough to see the falls, walk around downtown, and hang out with Mindy and Doug at the. best. cupcake. shop. ever.

The Predictable Ending

Years and years and years ago, when the west was wild and I was feeling my oats, I came up with a little story in response to the constant questions of matrimony that were tossed my way.  It was fun to recite, in a glib and perfunctory way, in deflection of the persistent lobs.

But things changed, obviously, and the story needed a new ending.  So in the flower-gathering hours prior to our June reception I pulled one out of my ear, tacked the new onto the old with duct tape and bailing twine, and tossed it into the air of the barn’s backyard after-party .

Below they’ve been typed for posterity; first the original, then the additional; entitled, respectively:

A Simple Liking: The Young Cowhand’s Reasoning for Avoidance of Matrimony, and

The Predictable Ending

Reach into my bag of tricks, she said, and tell me what you find

As she gazed at him, over an uplifted chin, with those pretty eyes

No thanks, he said, returned her stare, I don’t believe I will

My saddle, she’s a good one; surely better than your deal

Oh that, she said, old thing you ride, to work and back again

I guess you would, if you could, sleep, at nights, it in

Why sure, he said, tipped back his brim, and grinned from ear to ear

I’ll tell you why I ride so much, listen close my dear

‘Cause of a morning – when I wake up – my horse and I will ride

Up the mountains over yonder, and down the valleys at their sides

We’ll ride through cows, heifers, and steers

Ride with antelope, moose, elk, or deer

Maybe chase a coyote as he runs across the plains

Through the paintbrush and buttercups

Little red and yellow flames

Then we’ll watch the sun as it starts to rise above the snow-covered peaks

See it colorin’ the pines, and glimmer on the creeks

Come noon we’ll lunch on some jerky that I’ve packed

Or a biscuit or two, stuffed inside my sack

And towards evening we’ll turn, point our heads back this way

Sing a song, or three, or two

And to my horse I might just say:

We’ve no roads on which to drive

No clocks to punch in

No rules, really, to follow

And our view it has no end

From the sagebrush to the cottonwoods

Jackrabbits to porcupines

Everywhere we look out here

There’s another sign of life

And with that he glanced up at the purple clouds, outlined with shades of gray

Backlit by a fading blue sky, that began to end the day

Then he looked back across at her long, drawn face and said, you see sweet fair

With these things that I have mentioned, you surely can’t compare

The gift that you have offered, I’ll hold it sweet and dear

But of life and love, and in between, I simply like it here.

Oh you do, do you, she said… not taken back a bit

Like this place here only, and that saddle in which you sit

Could it be because you know not, that, which you’ve not yet seen

Like the mountains beyond these ones

And those valleys in between

The same rain falls on both

The same sun shines each dry

And all is still encompassed

By the same big, bright, blue sky

So come with me, and you shall see, what can be, when you dream, not alone, but as a team

And then she turned and led the way

Predictably… fittingly… there’s nothing more left to say.

Two Fools Hitched (in the West)

We followed up our December Midwest wedding with a June Western reception… complete with 14 pork shoulders, 4,000 more cookies, and the promised horse-trough full of beer. 

We had lots of family and friends make the trek, from near and far, to celebrate with us, and Zac's brother Haden cooked for them all. Thanks to him and to everyone for coming!

Here are some pics, courtesy of my lovely sister, of before, during, and after the shindig.