My Own Private Idaho

Another trip to Moscow, another great weekend. After going to the city courthouse to get my Idaho driver's license Friday morning (yes, I am now officially a resident of Idaho!), I jumped in the car with my cousin Liz who I had picked up from the train station and headed down to Moscow. Liz is Nancy's daughter and she has been in Africa the last several months so she was antsy to get home. I had not seen her since my Grandma Maryanne's funeral almost four years ago, so it was a great chance to catch up with her.

Upon arrival, we did the short hike up to the house and I repeatedly fell off the path into snow up to my knees. As we came up to the house Nancy was outside mauling wood. I could barely believe it. Think you could give that a try, Dad? Hugs were given all around and then a snack of homemade granola and homemade applesauce was eaten as the sun shone in through the windows and the wood stove burned away. This was the prelude to a wonderful weekend. I slipped away upstairs and did something I almost never do; I took a nap. It was so wonderful being covered in a blanket of sunlight. After my nap, I curled up in a little corner of sunlight and got lost in my book as Nancy served me homemade tea from herbs picked from the yard last year. For dinner, Nancy made homemade spaghetti with morel mushrooms and venison with a side of homemade pesto which we lovingly spread over garlic bread that oozed butter and huge chunks of garlic. For dessert we had dried pears and plums. I topped it off with a glass or two of her homemade porter. Are you seeing a trend here?

In the morning, after sleeping in until the sun would no longer let me linger, I curled up with a cup of tea. Nancy made homemade waffles in her cast iron waffle maker and served them with homemade apricot-huckleberry jam, peach preserves, and apple sauce. It was hard to stop eating! My morning consisted of getting lost in my book, once again, and sipping a bottomless cup of tea. As Liz was heading to town, I decided to take a trip down the hill with her to move a little. Liz suggested we take the sleds. The house is on the top of a hill, with a winding road that leads up to it. In the center of that road there is a path in the snow beaten down from walking, and sledding. As hesitant as I was to ride a sled down a path in the center of winding road, I was not going to be shown up by Nancy. It was a ridiculous amount of fun. It was the type of fun where you just start laughing and cannot stop, and you are not even sure what you are laughing at. At one point the road turned left, and I continued straight off the road into the snow, but I could not have cared less.

After heading back up the hill I decided to go on a moose hunt. There is a moose that hangs around Nancy's place, and I had a feeling it wanted to be my moose. I gave Gus a pep talk and told him to guide me to the moose. I strapped on my snowshoes and we were off. Gus knew exactly what he was doing. He led me to moose poop, moose pee, moose hair, moose tracks, and even places where it was evident the moose had bedded down. At one point, I even heard a moose call. After leading me to a woodpecker, I knew the moose was next. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Gus took me up hills, and down hills, up the gully, and down the gully, under trees, and over trees, but there was no moose to be seen.


I spent the rest of my afternoon curled up next to the wood stove with Pooch (the cat) snuggled in my lap, my book in my hands, tea right beside me, and fresh baked bread to nibble on. Nancy was busy all afternoon baking homemade bread, peach-apple pie, and dying her hand spun wool. The sun started to heat up the front room and it felt as if I was sun bathing. I had to slide my sleeves up my arms and roll up my pants legs. I could close my eyes and imagine I was on a beach listening to Bob Dylan play on NPR. Ahhh, my own private Idaho.

After my fill of bread, pie, tea, and more spaghetti I knew it was time to start my trip home. Even though it was just over 24 hours, it felt as if I was there for days. The world melts away up there. I always get asked for pictures, and every time I am there I just cannot bear to do it. When I am up at the Someday House I look around me and there is nothing I could take a picture of that could convey the feeling of being there. That feeling is so amazing, I never want to try and confine it to a picture. It just is. I hope my words give you an idea.