Murphy was up with the chickens again this morning. Sadly he had to leave the party before sunrise to make his 11:30 flight out of Denver, a three hour drive. He was headed home to celebrate his fourth anniversary. Admittedly a worthy reason.

Cyd, Mother, and I had breakfast at the B&B and then spent a wonderful morning at Kimberly’s. I got to play kitchen with Kamryn outside and visit her chickens and then went inside to a drowsy Brennan who let me cuddle him to sleep. I couldn’t lay him down, for Pete’s sake, so I held him for the whole nap. I’m every parent’s nightmare.

It’s a four hour drive north and west to Meeker, so we thought we’d better shove off at noon. We drove through Leadville where one of Mother’s half-brothers fell down a mine shaft and was hurt so badly he had to have a leg amputated. Yikes. We were surprised going around one turn to find four mountain sheep standing right by the road. Otherwise the drive was beautiful but uneventful unless you count a little road construction and licorice whips.

We are in Meeker to spend a couple days with our brother, Si, and his wife, Susan; to connect with a few old friends of Mother’s from her days of living here; and above all to meet great grand #9, Emilee Mae, 18 months, the second child of grandchild #6, Chad, Kimberly’s younger brother.

Murf got up with the chickens to ride along with Kimberly, a game warden, who needed to check on a few hunters in her area. Murf loved watching and learning about a job that is so alien to his industrial designer gig with Proctor and Gamble. Around noon Murf’s tutorial switched from law enforcement to ranching. He (read: Brady) saddled up his ride, Rosie, and played rancher for the afternoon. He attempted to separate the steers from the heifers and then the little/young ones from the old. All with the help of two dogs and two others riders. He was one tired buckaroo by bedtime I tell ya but had a wonderful day! He loved the amazing scenery, in particular, as well as watching how effective the cow dogs were. The daunting amount of work necessary to run a ranch well was the big takeaway.

Cyd and I got up just in time to participate in goat milking. Three friendly goats are milked twice a day and know exactly what to do. Anticipating a cup of grain, they cheerfully trot out of their pen, walk over to the milking stand, hop up, and put their head in the appropriate place. Once the milking was done they were all free to roam for the rest of the day. Besides the three milkers, there are two rams, quite a few neutered goats, and a llama who, we are told, takes his mission of guarding the goats from predators quite seriously. Besides the llama and goats, there are lots of chickens running around pecking away at the ground looking for delectable bits.

Breakfast was fabulous: homemade yogurt on freezer jam followed by eggs Benedict. Once our bellies were full to capacity, Mother took a quick nap and then Cyd, Mother, and I headed to Sargents, 40 miles down the road, for a visit and lunch with her nephew, wife, and son. When we were in the car headed back she commented that she had a blast of an afternoon. Her nephew, Bob, in the low 80s, is in the early stages of dementia, so there was a sad side to the afternoon, but it was far outweighed by all the laughter and fun stories about ranching, hunting, years of family get-togethers, and how much gold it takes to maintain the golden years.

Mother napped before we went to Kimberly’s and Brady’s for the evening. They grilled their delectable grass fed beef and we chatted away the evening on full …as is our habit… tummies. Stick a fork in our seventh day as roadies.

The whole day was special! Mother’s friend Kathy came to the hotel to visit with us in our room. While she and Mother reminisced about their days together in Arvada, Murphy was flying cross country to join the party for one leg of our trip. He arrived at the hotel around noon just as Kathy was saying goodbye.

The three of us grabbed a quick lunch and then went to Crown Hill Cemetery. In spite of living a short drive from the cemetery for many years, Mother had never visited her parents’ graves or the graves of her sister and beloved brother-in-law. We took advantage of being so close and found all four which meant the world to Mother. Cyd, Murphy, and I had never been to the cemetery either, so it was wonderful for us too.

From the cemetery we caravanned to Salida, a combo outdoorsy, artsy, ranching town at 7,500 feet. It’s a beautiful three hour drive south and west of Denver. Cyd and I decided Mother needed to nap, so we buckled her into Cyd’s car, handed her a neck pillow, gave her strict instructions to rest while Cyd drove, and told her she would be rewarded at the halfway point and could ride with Murphy the rest of the way. Well, well, well, she talked all the way to the halfway point not shutting her eyes for a moment. So much for bossing her around! She did jump in with Murf for the second half of the ride which she enjoyed to the max.

The drive to Salida was spectacular. The weather, consistent with the rest of the trip, was unseasonably warm with full sun. We spotted small groups (herds? flocks?) of antelope, saw awesome rock formations, and huge valleys where presumably zillions of cows graze. We could see for miles.

We got to Salida late in the afternoon, settled into our B&B, Mountain Goat Lodge, and then headed to Kimberly’s to meet Brennan, Mother’s 11th great grandchild, now five months old, for the first time. Talk about a mellow dude. We passed him around like a sack of potatoes and I, simply because he was in my lap at the time, got to feed him dinner, an unlikely combo of peas, mango, and pear. Kamryn, great grand #6, was very much part of the party too but stayed a bit on the sidelines until she figured out who we were. Just before dinner Kimberly mentioned the chickens needed to be put to bed. They like to go to bed in their old roost, resist at all costs going to the new, unpopular, roost which means they have to be carried from the old one to the new one. We helped and were as clumsy as you might imagine. It was worth a good laugh. Photo opp.

We chatted until we felt like the kids needed to go to bed and then we took off toward the B&B to get some sleep ourselves.

Mother slept well for 11 hours last night and woke up feeling herself again. Phew! Cyd and I are taking full credit even though Deb told us what to do. That’s just how we roll.

We decided last night to plan a slow morning that approximates Mother’s life @ home. We got up around 7:00, brought coffee to the room around 8:00, and then went back down around 8:30 and selected breakfast and brought it to the room. At 10:00 Mother was enjoying a morning nap. This seemed to be a good plan and set us on the right path for a good afternoon.

A tea party with Mother’s next door neighbor of 17 years, Marge, and their mutual friend, Loretta, was the bright spot of the afternoon. It was fun to listen to the three of them reminisce about their days together: borrowing cups of sugar, drives in the mountain, house sitting, dog sitting, holidays, and watching each other’s children grow and change.

From Marge’s we stopped at a local grocery store to pick up dinner to eat in our room: chicken fingers, soup, and bread and butter. We splurged with the Holiday Inn Express hotel points Dan offered and have a nice, big suite, so we spread our picnic out on the table and dug in.

Our day ended on a high note with a visit to Mother’s very first and therefore oldest friend, Helen, 93. They met in first grade in Fraser. Helen was as cute as they come with an infectious giggle. She told us about working in the timber with her dad. When we asked what a 14 year old did in the timber, she explained her job was to strip bark from the trees before they were made into either fence posts or telephone poles. Helen also mentioned that her grandparents were advised to move from Wisconsin to Colorado in the hopes of curing her grandmother’s TB. They went west in a covered wagon and, sure enough, the grandma got well, had more children, lived a long life, and is buried in the Fraser cemetery. One of Mother’s favorite Helen stories involves the two of them, both six at the time, going on a picnic. Mother packed a bologna sandwich and an apple in a covered pail, walked the mile and a half to Helen’s house and together they went on a half mile more to a lone grave where they enjoyed their lunch. Mother and Helen also talked about their cemetery plots which are next to each in the Fraser cemetery. Helen reminded Mother that she (Helen) has a promise from her children to decorate Mother’s grave each time they decorate hers.

Our day went so well. The weather has been unseasonably warm with full sun. Mother was tired by bedtime but felt so much better than this time yesterday.

We had a slow morning with the objective of being in Estes Park, a drive west of a little more than an hour, around 11:30. We drove through a beautiful, narrow canyon with perpendicular rock walls and the odd, very tenacious evergreen that somehow managed to get a toehold in all the rock. The highway parallels a small, determined river. Once we were through the canyon we got our first sight of the beautiful mountain range which, until then, had been a bit shrouded in haze. The leaves are changing with large patches of lemon yellow …aspens showing off… that popped from the sea of green.

Our reason for being in Estes Park was to visit mother’s friend of 20 years, Lori. She is less than two years older than Cyd and struggles with three chronic illnesses. We arranged to arrive late in the morning to give Lori ample time to get her day started. Mother woke up not feeling herself, so it ended up being a reunion of two pals not feeling so great. Cyd and I kept the ball rolling during the visit and lunch at a nice restaurant in the cute downtown.

On our way into Estes Park there were signs warning of wild animals that often take the liberty of roaming around town. We took it seriously when we spotted three moose having a drink in the river and a dozen bull elk grazing right along the road. One bold dude decided to step out in traffic and cross the road which was somehow exciting to us. Lori told us that elk have come right up to her living room window seemingly interested in what’s going on inside,

After lunch both Lori and Mother decided they needed to rest, so we said our goodbyes and headed south toward Arvada, the suburb of Denver where Mother lived for 30+ years. We stopped for a few minutes in Golden, home of Coors, to see if the feed mill that Mother’s older brother (our Uncle Myrl) owned and ran for years and years was still there. How fun to find it still up and running.

We settled into our hotel room late in the afternoon, insisted Mother rest, and then ran to the drugstore for a few meds that Deb suggested for Mother’s tummy. Dinner nearby and then back to the room to make calls confirming tomorrow’s visit before Mother turned in at 8:00. She is determined to feel better tomorrow!

Our day revolved around visiting with Mother’s friend of 65 years, Merle Smith. She and her daughter, Georgia, hosted us for lunch at Merle’s apartment where we spent most of the day and enjoyed a nice lunch and divine homemade desserts.

Merle, 94, and Mother had a terrific time sharing stories about their long friendship: how they got acquainted in 1950 when we moved into a converted horse barn situated down an alley near the basement apartment where Merle and her family lived; who had the smartest cat; and much later, traveling together on tours to Alaska and Germany. It was fun to hear them reminisce and laugh. When Jim was called back to active duty for the Korean Conflict and was sent to Korea for a year, Mother stayed in Greeley with Cyd and me. Since Merle’s husband worked late on Saturday nights, it became Mother and Merle’s habit to take turns preparing dinner for one another and playing games with the kids until bedtime. During Jim’s absence, Mother took a part time job working at an elementary school cafeteria. It was Merle’s idea so that Mother could get out of the house plus have some adult company/conversation. Merle offered to watch Cyd and me while Mother was at work. Mother agreed as long as Merle would take half of Mother’s pay at the end of each week. When Mother went over to drop Cyd and me off the first day, I looked up at Cyd and asked in a soft voice, ” Is it time to cry?”

Our laugh for the day was sending Mother and Merle to bed after lunch for a short nap. They obediently went to Merle’s bedroom to lie down together, talked for about an hour and a half, and came back into the living room to join us as if we hadn’t heard them chirping nonstop.

Our perfect day ended with a short tour of Greeley. I wanted to see the converted horse barn, in particular, and Cyd requested we run by the apartment building where Jim lived with his aunt, grandfather, and grandmother when he was in high school and college. Our last stop for the day was at IHOP for a quick dinner.

The road warriors I’m traveling with are a bit averse to sleeping in, it seems, so we were up, fed, with teeth brushed, in the car, and headed west toward Denver by 8:30. The day was sunny and warm and the landscape flat as a pancake. We passed cattle, small oil rigs, huge white windmills, fields of sunflowers, horses, countless acres of yellow-brown pastureland, silos, hay bales, and the odd ribbon of train cars heading nowhere. I was tempted, of course, but did not succumb to the signs directing the curious to the Fossel Museum, Prairie Museum of Art and History, and Boot Hill in Dodge City.

We had enjoyed such a hearty breakfast that we decided to snack in the car for lunch instead of stopping for a meal. Thank you Heather, Lexi, and Landon.

We skirted Denver on the east side and arrived in Greeley mid-afternoon. First stop: Linn Grove Cemetery to see the seven headstones Cyd, Si, and I had installed in the family plot after Jim’s burial. It was the first time for any of us to see the stones and they all looked beautiful. Why seven stones? It had always been Jim’s intention to install stones on the graves of family members whose graves had never been marked. We decided to do it on his behalf and are so pleased with how they look.

Greeley factoids:

• Jim was born, earned two college degrees, lived here three times for a total of 15 years, and is buried here.
• Cyd and I were born in Greeley.
• Mother met Jim here 75 years ago last month at a college dance.
• William Woodruff, Jim’s great grandfather, came west from Illinois in 1870 and settled here. As a pioneer settler he received a small farm as well as city property. He was the one who bought the family plot in 1882 to inter one of his two sons, Felix, who had sadly committed suicide.

Dinner tonight was a picnic in the hotel room that Cyd brought from home. A relaxing way to end a full, perfect day.

Last night JR, Heather, Lexi, and Landon arrived on the heels of Ben and Terrie to wish us a happy, fun trip. It’s always a treat to see them and last night was no exception. Heather and the kids surprised us with a big bag of treats for the road. Woo hoo!

We put 485 miles behind us today. The weather was warm and sunny. First stop was all of two miles down the road when we grabbed McMuffins and hot beverages. Less than an hour and a half later we took a potty break before, believe it or not, christening the treat bag. Shameful!

Our route took us north out of Rogers into Missouri on 49. The Californians would say The 49 but the locals are happy with plain ole 49. Third stop was to capture a picture of the Welcome to Missouri sign. Hokey but necessary. As we worked our way to Kansas City we passed the George Washington Carver Museum, Precious Moments Chapel, Truman Library, Brown vs. Board of Education Historic Site, Russel Stover outlet, and others stops that were calling my name. Our timetable dictates I save them for another time, however. We drove by towns with spunky names like Neosho, Jane, and Peculiar. Just south of Kansas City we crossed into Kansas. Traffic would not allow the obligatory Welcome to Kansas sign, so I was forced to snap it as Cyd zipped by at a respectable clip.

Sidebar: Dan and I lived at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, just outside Kansas City, from the summer of 1984 to the spring of 1985. Murphy was in first grade and Matt in second. No time to stop for a stroll down memory lane though.

We zipped past the Leavenworth exit and headed west on I-70 before stopping at the first rest stop to enjoy the delicious lunch Cyd, the good sister, had packed for us. It was nice to take a break. We changed drivers and continued west. It was hard to pass, as you can well imagine, the exits for the Agriculture Hall of Fame, Bob Dole’s birthplace, Oz (as in Wizard of…) Museum, Oz Winery, Eisenhower Library, etc., but I stayed strong even at the turnoffs for cowboy outlaw historic sites.

We stopped for the night in Hays, got some dinner, and tucked Mother in at 8:00.

Although Mother, sneaking up on 93, was born in New Mexico she has always considered Colorado home. She moved there before she turned two; met and married our dad when she was a freshman in college; and waited out his deployments for WWII, the Korean Conflict, and the Vietnam War there. She and our dad, we always called him Jim, retired there after Jim’s career in the Air Force. Mother left her beloved Colorado a few years ago to live near Cyd, the oldest, and some say the best, of us three kids. Sad to say they might be on to something. ;-}

Dan, Cyd, and I took Mother on a road trip from Arkansas to Colorado two years ago, which we all enjoyed immensely. Earlier this year, much to our surprise, Mother requested an encore but this time with the additions of Salt Lake City and Tucson. Dan is unable to join us this time, so it will just be the three of us road warriors: Cyd, Mother, and me. Cyd is in charge of maps, the itinerary, and getting her van ready for a workout; I am in charge of hotel reservations, treats, and gifts for the great grands; and Mother is in charge of choosing who we visit and regaling us with her usual fun and funny stories of days gone by. We are all pumped!

I’m flying to Arkansas tomorrow noon to toss my stuff in Cyd’s van and be ready to roll Thursday morning. Let’s get this party started!

Cleone and Dan both had bad nights. They think it’s due to their colds but surely fried food factored in there somewhere. Our last day at sea was part work and part play. There was the issue of squeezing in trips to the dining facilities between packing, watching football on the big screen on deck, and a cooking demonstration featuring the head chef, head pastry chef, and maitre d’.  the demo was funny and fun all in one. The chef’s pronunciation of veg-uh-TAYbles always made me smile. Before we headed off to tour one of the ship’s five kitchens, the headwaiter, Hector, stepped forward and closed the session much as you might anticipate … by singing F. Sinatra’s old stand by My Way. Really. He got a standing ovation in recognition of his wonderful voice, rousing rendition, and courage to pull of the unexpected.

Dinner was delicious, as usual, with the added surprise of the parade of baked Alaskas, a Princess Cruise Line staple we were told. The lights were dimmed and we all waved our napkins above out heads for the duration. When the Alaskas were off the floor, Hector (head waiter…cooking demo…remember?) took the mic and belted out Time to Say Goodbye to a very enthusiastic crowd.

The entertainment for our last day at sea was fabulous. We were not expecting world class, as-seen-on-prime-time-TV marionettes, but we got them. The Huber Marionettes to be exact. They were amazing!!!! times two. The guy manipulating the zillions of strings was able, among other things, to make a clown walk a tightrope, an acrobat do tricks on a metal ring, Liza Minnelli sing, and a guy from the Ming Dynasty turn into a dragon, and a Pinocchio looking fellow play the violin. We really were spellbound.

Favorite part(s) of the cruise
Hettie: ports and camaraderie
Ronnie and Dan: ports of call
Walter: getting away
Cleone: being with the group
Schele: ending each day with a triple date: dinner and a show. No worries about traffic, parking, ticket price, etc.

Favorite stop
Hettie and Ronnie: Shetland Islands
Walter, Cleone, Dan: 2nd stop in Iceland
Schele: 1st stop in Iceland

Suitcases had to be in the hall before we headed to bed, so we left our rousing discussion of the trip to tend to finishing touches for disembarkation. We all agreed it had been a wonderful trip with good, olddddd friends.