Jessie Veeder / Forum News Service
WATFORD CITY, N.D. — Last night, as we were driving back to the ranch late from a performance in a bigger town, my dad said he wishes he could live a whole other lifetime so he would have time to fit in all of the things he wants to do.
WATFORD CITY, N.D. — Over Memorial Day weekend, my in-laws took our two young daughters on a five-day camping trip and left my husband and I home alone for part of the workweek and the long weekend. It was the stuff parenting dreams are made of, I’m telling you. In our married adult life B.C. (before children), we took all those long weekends for granted, sleeping in, lingering over coffee, maybe tackling some yardwork before meeting up with friends or heading down to the river to catch some catfish. Oh, how I wish we could have seen what our future held back then.
WATFORD CITY, N.D. — Get the gate. There are other words that conjure up anxiety for me, but none in the same way as this phrase declared from the driver’s seat of an old feed pickup or from atop a horse about to take off for a mile in the other direction and return with 100 cows that I’ve been instructed not to let miss that open gate and head for the deep and ominous patch of trees further down the fence line. Get the gate. It seems simple enough if in your imagination you are picturing a white picket fence on neat hinges with a little latch. Easy.
WATFORD CITY, N.D. — I planted some flowers this afternoon as the temperature reached up toward what we can finally call warm. Some are working to root themselves in pots that have sat for years on this deck, and some sit next to me on the deck waiting for a turn as I watch the moon come up. Behind me, the sun streaks the sky pink, making its long, dramatic exit.
WATFORD CITY, N.D. -- Last week while I was writing my column, unfolding a tale from the olden days about my dear grandmother’s run-in with an ornery bovine and an exasperated husband , a saga of my own was developing in my living room between our new orange cat who now has six names and a mouse, who shall never be named.
WATFORD CITY, N.D. -- So you want to go sledding with two toddlers? Here's how to do it in only 20 steps. Step 1: Check the weather. Declare to the entire house that it is now above zero and you are all going outside. Step 2: Tell the 3-year-old to go find her snow gear while you attempt to wipe all the syrup off of the 1-year-old. Respond to 3-year-old’s cries for help because she can’t find her mittens. Step 3: Try to find the mittens while wondering why in the bleep you can never find the mittens.
WATFORD CITY, N.D. -- When I was a little girl all wrapped up in the magic of this place, my favorite book of was “My Side of the Mountain,” a story about a boy who finds himself living alone in the wilderness inside of a giant hollowed out tree. I still have the book buried somewhere in this house, holding all the secrets to adventure like all the books I loved about kids taming horses and dogs and braving wild prairie storms. Forget after school microwave popcorn and "Super Mario Bros." — I wanted real adventure!
WATFORD CITY, N.D. -- You guys, this winter is getting to me. And even though the wind is blowing 65 mph outside my windows, shaking this house and forcing me under the covers in my long underwear listening to weatherman Cliff promise like 100 below zero tomorrow, I’m telling you it’s not the weather. I know about the weather. I mean, I get it. What I didn’t know was what having two toddlers in January in North Dakota truly meant for me and my pharmacy bills.
On a long, late night drive last week, I stumbled upon a radio program that aims to explore the topic of love and how it unfolds, beats, bends and connects us. It’s a big task, telling love’s story. I wasn’t convinced I was up for a bunch of sappy romances, if that’s how it was going to roll out, but I put in a lot of road time and good radio has the potential to save my sanity, so I gave it a try.