This post has a lot of pictures. I tried to just stick to the ones that tell the story, so hopefully you can scroll through them quickly, and I will keep my commentary to a minimum (ahem). I guess I felt nostalgic at the ranch for my grandmother's funeral...a day we knew was coming, but it still changed me. I think I felt the change when I came through Milford (Utah) and saw this as we neared the ranch:
These wind turbines were at the southern border of Black Rock Ranch (my grandparents'--now my uncle's-- ranch). They seemed to symbolize a new era...and made Black Rock, (now population 2--it was population 8 at it's peak) seem even smaller and more remote. I heard that my uncle was recorded as being "hostile to alternative energy" because he complained that the new wind turbine operation was draining his wells because of the water they were using to wet the roads so their trucks could drive around and not get dusty. Hmmm.
As everyone reading this probably knows, we went to the ranch to say goodbye to my grandmother, Dorothea Mae Kaufman.
She was a hard-working, loving, stubborn woman who loved her husband, 2 sons, the Bible, grandkids, and animals. I would have loved to have known her when this picture was taken:
This is more how I knew her:
Her funeral was small...at a little Baptist church in Milford. My sister gave the eulogy, my dad did a little talk, and I shared some memories. We sang some old cowboy hymns and had a shivery graveside service at the little cemetery.
Did I mention that it was cold at the graveside? Annie was still all smiles.
After the service, we went back to the church for a lunch. I wanted to talk with all my cousins, like Benjamin, who was my childhood playmate and friend.
But instead, I felt like I had to do a lot of this:
(I actually think this picture sums up a lot of my life these days--Sam talking to me, Annie nursing, and Evan...where's Evan?...off doing his own thing).
We ate dinner together at my Aunt and Uncle's house (across the field from my grandparents' house) complete with one of Utah's famous jello salads. (it's the green blob next to the cheesy potatoes)
I don't even know what's in that one.
The rest of the time at the ranch, we enjoyed being with family (and I enjoyed them admiring Annie, which they did a lot of)
and enjoyed being at the ranch that I love so much. Except for the fact that it was so cold. Notice the temperature inside the house on this thermometer:
(It was 55 degrees in the house most of the morning) I don't think my dad's cousin, Hal, took his North Face jacket off the entire time...even to go to bed.
Here's how ranchers look when they are working in -21 degree weather:
Kendra reminded me of a Christmas when my grandma brought some baby lambs into the kitchen to keep them from freezing to death. She thought my grandma actually put them in the oven to warm up...I just remember a cardboard box with lambs in it in the kitchen on Christmas morning and feeding them from coke bottles. Being in my grandparents' house brings back a lot of memories, many of them triggered by the quintessential "grandma's house" pictures on the walls. Like this yarn art:
And the scary girl picture:
And these other scary pictures:
Annie had a bath in the sink, which is only noteworthy because I think it had been a month since she had last been given one (I am not exaggerating).
The kids could only do crafts inside the old house for so long,
so Kendra and I bundled them up
and took them outside. The boys had fun playing on a flatbed trailer in front of the pig barn and sheep pens
going on tractors
and a tow truck that Kendra tried to convince them was Mater (from Cars)--they didn't buy it.
They fed the horses and Sam discovered that snot and alfalfa aren't a good combination.
We went to the spring
and saw the historic Native American petroglyphs on the rocks ("Oh, they drew a soccer ball and a banana," Sam declared).
Evan got cold on the walk back. He reminded us of the part in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation when the Griswolds go to the woods to get their tree and the mom says, "She'll see it later, Clark, her eyes are frozen." (Click on the picture to see it better)
He just sat there, not moving, his eyes glazed over. We took him back to grandma and then went sledding.
(I'm slightly embarrassed to see that I stick my tongue out when sledding. I would deny it, but pictures don't lie)
I always felt special having somewhere like the ranch to visit...I have so many memories of playing with my cousins--pretending we were cows and branding each other in the cattle chutes
playing hide and seek in the best playground a kid could imagine
rounding up cattle, feeding baby sheep, milking goats, climbing haystacks, sitting on Grandma's porch, eating waffles, and so much more. I guess part of my grieving (which was really more reflecting than grief) was realizing that things can't stay the same forever, no matter how much we want them to. I really feel like an adult now, and even if my kids won't get to enjoy the ranch like I did, they have their own grandparent's houses at which they are making memories for themselves. So as I look back, I am thankful for the legacy of the Kaufmans and Grandma Tortilla (as Sam thought she was named) and as I look forward, I am glad for the new chapters that are unfolding with my children. In the words of Tracy Lawrence (country singer), "the only thing that stays the same is everything changes, everything changes/Time marches on, time marches on.".
(It is a nativity scene made out of peanuts. Sam calls it his "activity scene". I think the activity looks like the Hokey Pokey around Jesus. Notice Mary's face (she's in light blue, after much discussion with Sam about what color her dress should be--I prevailed in the name of tradition) She looks very happy and very...sunburned? embarassed? still flushed from the birth?)
