My grandfather’s stories are still holding my rapt attention. I’m just finished the story of the irrigation system and how it was all washed away in a dreadful flood 8 years after he married my grandma. His description of the first time he saw her is enough to keep any Harlequin Romance fan (I grew out of them, but I did love them once) happy. And the horses! There are so many descriptions of horses, and trick riding, and ranch riding, and working teams (four teams to move a house during the dirty Thirties) and on and on it goes. His choice of words sometimes is uncannily apt, and his optimism, unshakeable faith in God and love for the land and his family is amazing to read about. Happy sigh.
Work suckage was interrupted briefly yesterday by a much enjoyed buffet at the Himalayan Peak. Patricia and I had a very nice time.
