04 Friday Jan 2019
My husband has decided that he wants to learn to play the flute. I feel fortunate that he chose a relatively quiet instrument. During early marriage, he decided to learn the guitar, but was too busy with work and family so gave that up. Now in “later marriage” we’re back to learning music again. Thank goodness he has his man cave. I can close the door. Maybe lock it if need be! Continue reading
28 Saturday Jul 2018
Born in Afton, Wyoming in 1911, he was raised on a farm south of Etna and graduated from the University of Wyoming in 1940 with a degree in civil engineering.
With very primitive tools, Lloyd performed his first survey in Cokeville, Wyoming, about 75 miles down the road from Etna, the town he settled in when he “came home.” The loop within those few miles took him from coast to coast working as a surveyor.
Wyoming was calling him home, however, and he returned to Etna in 1974. After obtaining his license, he established Lloyd B. Baker and Associates which continues to this day, now with Astech GPS, Traverse PC, and Visual Cadd software. He told me he could find any point he needs to on his 4-wheeler with tracks, under the four feet of snow we usually get during the winters. Lloyd continued working until past the age of 106. He said he didn’t see any reason not to!
Baker loved to dance and especially loved to sing. He entertained at two rest homes in the valley on Sunday evenings. He could still mostly remember fifty songs. One of those, “A Nest, The West, and You, Dear,” he sang for me, which was a delight.
Cheyenne Frontier Days was a highlight for him this past summer. It was the first time he had attended and had the delightful privilege of being photographed with ten beautiful Rodeo Queens!
Lloyd had always been an advocate of taking care of your body. He believed our bodies were meant to last a thousand years and if we give it what it needs for nourishment and don’t give it junk that is not nourishing, we’ll be fine. He relayed to me that he had arthritis once but it was interfering with his work, so he quit drinking milk, starting using real butter instead of margarine (which he feels is plastic) and stopped taking his vitamins. It wasn’t long before he felt fine. Lloyd ate a little meat, had a bit of “sweets” after each meal – always carried Peanut M & M’s in his pocket, consumed no chlorinated or fluoridated water, no bleached flour in anything, and was a believer that proper elimination is a must. He also used no soap.
Lloyd had five children, 17 grandchildren, over 40 great grandchildren, a couple of great, great,-grandchildren.
The last time I saw him I asked, “ What are some of the benefits of being a 107?” He quickly replied, “Everyone treats you better. After 100 you get treated a lot better.”
Lloyd left us on July 9th, 2018. He’s probably already surveying the heavenly clouds!
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08 Thursday Feb 2018
February is the month when you will find the florist’s shops overflowing with roses. Floriography was a method used by Victorians to send messages to others without uttering a word – thus the roses became symbolic of love, especially for Valentine’s Day.
There are several other flowers or plants that suggest love as well. Lovegrass is a very beautiful perennial with ornamental, wispy plumes. Its Greek name is eragrostis: eros meaning love and agrostis meaning grass. It’s also used as fodder for livestock. Continue reading
22 Wednesday Nov 2017
The first Thanksgiving in this country has many variations including what was for dinner. (Hint: it wasn’t beef.) They had whatever they could get their hands on which included different kinds of birds, deer, and crops they had grown. The cornucopia, also called the horn-of-plenty, is a symbol of those crops.
The origin of the turkey as the preferred bird for the meal is also debatable but the story I like best is that in the 1950’s the Saturday Evening Post ran a Thanksgiving cover (painted by Norman Rockwell) of a family around the dinner table with a scrumptious turkey as the main dish. It caught on like wildfire!
We all strive for the perfect
Continue reading
27 Friday Oct 2017
Sunday Morning Breakfast.
I love small towns! It’s just that simple.
We have been blessed to go to breakfast with some very special friends on Sunday mornings at Tootsie’s in Thayne, Wyoming for several years now and I am ever more aware of just what a gift that is. They are wonderful people.
I also enjoy the camaraderie of the other breakfast guests in the restaurant. Friends may wave at each other across the room, call out a greeting, or just smile – but it’s special. Some may stop for a minute Continue reading
20 Wednesday Sep 2017
Twelve miles from Buffalo, Wyoming, you can step back in time and feel the presence of a woman gone mad. Wyoming has never been an easy place to live – you have to really want to be here, but at the beginning – when this wonderful chunk of real estate was not yet a territory – things were much more difficult. 
There are a number of stories as to how the name Crazy Woman Creek, Crazy Woman Canyon, and Crazy Woman Battlefield, came to be – the name alone conjures up visions of horror
One of the most valid stories seems to be that during the era when whites traded Indians for their furs, a misunderstanding led to some Indians scalping a white man right in front of his bride (also white). Her blood-curdling cry was so horrifying that the 
Indians were afraid of harming her.
She, no doubt, had the same dream most of us have – a future- with her husband, children, a warm, loving home, only to have it shattered right in front of her eyes. In a split-second, all of that was taken from her.
She wandered the hills alone the rest of her life, never finding her sanity again. Often she was sighted and fed by various mountain men, only to disappear once more. One kindly gentleman built her a cabin and she was eventually found dead there, apparently of starvation, years later. 
If you listen carefully, while winding your way through that hauntingly beautiful canyon, you may hear the maniacal cry of a distraught, heart-broken woman. The wind gently whispers its sad secrets as the creek ripples through the canyon, leaving history in its droplets. Such tragedy in the shadow of the beautiful Big Horn Mountains is beyond sad.
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15 Tuesday Aug 2017
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Blog, family, flowers, History, Nature, Places, Recreation, United States
We went road-tripping’ into the Greys River area this past Sunday. It is such a beautiful forest. Lot’s of nice camping spots for tents and RVs alike. It’s known as the river with a road beside it.
At Alpine, a nearby town, there is a huge, beautiful lake known as the Palisades, where the convergence of Salt River, Snake river, and Grey’s flow into it. The gorgeous Snake River Canyon goes up to Jackson Hole on the east, and northwest the highway will take you to Idaho.
John Grey, AKA, Ignace Hatchiorauguasha, a very well educated half- Iroquois, was responsible for breaking Britain’s hold on the fur trade which led to the acquisition of the Oregon Territory for America. The river was named after him.
The Greys River is about 62 miles long and starts high up in the Wyoming Range, 45 miles south of Alpine. It is a beautiful, rushing stream that separates the Wyoming Range from the Salt River Range on the west. If you ever have the opportunity to camp along that river you will love it.
It is considered one of the best playgrounds in the area, offering superb trout fishing, canoeing, rafting, kayaking, hiking, horseback riding, and of course, abundant deer and elk for the hunters.
This post shows just a few of the abundant wildflowers in the mountain valley. What could be better than being surrounded by mountains, some about 11,000 feet, a wonderful mountain stream, and the serenity that only that scenario can provide?
However – if I were camping in a tent, I might choose to sleep in my car, lest an unfriendly bear pays me a visit!
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30 Sunday Jul 2017
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Warmth of the coffee mug clutched tightly in my hands
Contrasts sharply with the chill of the early morning.
Three deer meander through our yard, munching, carefree.
They look my way and go on about their business.
My love joins me.
Together we look across this beloved part of our world Continue reading
24 Monday Jul 2017
The tower rises majestically some 1267 feet above the Belle Fourche River in Northwest Wyoming and is 867 feet from base to summit, with a base circumference of one mile. It is a spectacular sight, rugged, picturesque, and often used for weddings, filming, and commercial photography (permits required).
“Close Encounters of the Third Kind” is the movie that made the tower famous in 1977. It’s more than a movie to the Indians – to them it is sacred and they ask that people voluntarily refrain from climbing it during the month of June in order to show respect for the culture of the American Indians since June is a month when many of their ceremonies traditionally occur.
Mis-translation of a word back in 1800 gives it the name, “Bad God’s Tower” which morphed into “Devils Tower,” the apostrophe being lost due to a clerical error. Various tribes had many different names for it: Bear Rock, Tree Rock, He Hota Paha, Grizzly Bear Lodge, to name a few.
How it was created gives way to many legends. The Kiowa say that there were seven sisters who ran into a giant bear. They ran away and jumped on a small stump that quickly grew into the enormous stump we see today in order for the girls to escape. The girls were whisked up into the sky and became the stars that form our Big Dipper.
Cheyenne legend states that while some of them were traveling to worship the Great Spirit, one of their wives became enamored with a mate-less bear, the men chased the giant bear, it chased them up a huge tree, they killed the bear, the woman turned into a bear and made the huge rock her home. It became known at the Bear’s Tipi.
My favorite is the story of two young Indian boys who, as young boys will do, got lost. They walked for days trying to find their way home, to no avail. Eventually, coming face to face with Mato, a giant bear who shook the very earth with every step he took, they knew they were doomed. In their struggles to get away, they fell and the earth rose with them on it. Up, up, up it went to the height the tower is today. The bear could almost touch the top, but not quite. It clawed viciously all the way around the towering chunk of earth but finally left in frustration. Wanblee, a great eagle, extended his enormous talons for the boys to grab hold of and he delivered them back to their village, thus giving the boys quite a story to tell their grandchildren.
Geologist tells us that molten rock was forced up between other rock formations, some say it is the tip of an extinct volcano. Others feel the tower was formed underground, uplifted, and erosion formed what we see today. More recently I’ve heard that it is a petrified tree going back to the time of giants.
Now, I’ll tell you what – I would hate to meet up with a bear the size of which was as tall as the Tower, and I shudder to contemplate the size the people would have been to match their surroundings. Think how hard it would be to buy clothing!
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21 Sunday May 2017
We went to Montpelier, Idaho yesterday and visited The National Oregon/California Trail Center there. It has so much to offer! You can step back in time and visit a gun shop and mercantile, or ride in a covered wagon simulating the rock-n-roll of an actual journey, except it’s done inside in comfort.
It’s hard to imagine the “luxury” of riding in a wagon across this wonderful chunk of real estate, changing off to walking because it was hard to determine which was the least miserable, stopping at night in the middle of somewhere, taking care of the animals, laundry, fixing meals, tending children, maybe being pregnant, ill, or any number of difficulties that had to be dealt with on the journey.
I applaud our ancestors who braved those trips, giving up all they had, not knowing what lay ahead. It was a daunting endeavor and many lost their lives doing it, but it was part of settling this country. We owe them so much!
There is a gift shop, rail exhibit, art gallery, and murals to enjoy. Restaurants and motels are nearby. It’s time well spent. www.oregontrailcenter.org
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