Cowboy and I dropped off his two corgie dogs with his Dad in a parking lot in Billings, Montana over three weeks ago. So this weekend we drove all the way to Bozeman, MT (a six hour drive) to pick them up. We left Friday afternoon and got in late. It was so dark that I couldn't see all the beautiful mountains along the way. All four dogs went barking crazy when we walked into his parents house. The living room was decorated with bears, moose, and pine trees. His mom was under a beautiful bear quilt in front of a modern fireplace under the TV that plugged into the wall, his dad in a recliner with a fluffy black cat on his lap. It was the first time I met his mom, and she was warm and affectionate with me. Her dog Cowgirl made herself at home with her body across my lap, and an old dog Archie nuzzled his nose in my hands to pet him.
I shared a guest bed with a very fat cat named Gracie in the cold basement, with Cowboy's grandma's quilts from the 70s and an electric blanket for warmth. Cowboy battled the dogs for the sofa. His mom made a huge lumberjack breakfast the next morning for a good reason, we spent the day peeling logs for a cabin that Cowboy's brother is building himself.
They gave me a sharp blade, and I got one of the best full body workout's of my life cutting the bark off the pine tree logs with it. I loved every minute of it, I like to make things myself. I think we take for granted all the stuff we have in modern life. I like to knit, make my own pottery, and bake from scratch from grandma's 1950 Betty Crocker cookbook. A new passion stirred inside of me though as that blade cut into the wood, a love for crafting wood. I might have to make my own furniture now. Cowboy made his deck himself, and a beautiful pine bed, chest of drawers, and nightstands. I loved how smooth that pine was when I was done, and how old fashioned it must be to peel your own logs. It reminded me of a PBS wood show that I use to watch, where the guy used old fashion tools.
The clouds cleared and I could see how beautiful the mountains were in the area, purple-gray jagged rocks with white snow covering them. Cowboy told me that a glacier craved the whole valley where Bozeman is, and that is why it is surrounded by mountains. He said it would get as cold as 60 below there when he worked the county as a deputy sheriff, and maybe colder but his thermometer wouldn't go any lower.