Riverbend Journal

 Wishing my blogging family a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! See you all when I return from the AI generated scene of where I told it I would be!

  I'm a bread junkie. I can sit down with a fresh loaf warm out of the oven, a tub of butter and put a serious hurt on the loaf and my stomach. I have been fortunate all these years that my wife isn't a bread baker and other than a rare loaf of banana bread from some over ripe bananas or an even more rare loaf of "English muffin" bread, both of which I make, there isn't a lot of freshly made bread around our house. At least until recently. My wife for some reason, got a book on making sourdough bread and has been growing a starter, which is what you are looking at above. On her request, I tried my hand at it awhile ago but the fruit flies kept getting into it rendering it unappealing. But now that winter is upon us and the fruit flies gone, my wife made her own starter from flour, water and the microbes in our household air. It needs a week to grow before use and this is I think day five. Each day, she scoops out the majority of the starter and throws it away and

Lunch in Paradise Valley, Montana I come from a long line of picnic eaters while on vacation. I know my grandparents did so quite often whenever my brother and I were with them on a vacation. In fact, I have no memories of ever eating in a restaurant with my grandparents while on a vacation with them. Evidently, that trait came from my grandfather's parents, my great grandparents, as I have found numerous pictures of their picnic spots in my great uncle's slide collection.  Below is a picture of the Hungry Horse Dam which according to the writing on the slide, may have been the fourth tallest in the U.S. back in 1966. According to Wikipedia, it was at the time it was completed, the 2nd tallest in the world and now only ranks at #10 for the tallest in the U.S. This box, #5 according to the penned label, was pretty light on interesting pictures. All but these two were mostly scenery pictures spanning from Yellowstone to Glacier National Parks. I didn't save any of the scenery

  This morning, by the light of a headlamp since our power was out, I assembled my antique furrow maker and put another coat of boiled linseed oil on the handles. I think it looks quite nice with the new handles, fresh coat of paint and shiny fasteners, this time made out of stainless steel and using locking nuts so things don't rust out and loosen with time. Perhaps it will now see another 50+ years of life, long after I'm gone. Now I have another reason to look forward to spring. I've blogged about it before why big box stores stink when it comes to purchasing fasteners and why I went the internet route with this project. Well despite all my careful planning, I forgot to order a nut for the axle bolt the wheel spins on. Unlike all the other nuts, it was a size larger, was almost rusted completely and was square and not hexagonal like modern nuts were. So I made that dreaded trip to the big box store. I could buy a regular stainless nut in a box of 12 but I didn't want

Bear Jam Here are a few more slides from my great uncle's box full of them taken back in July of 1966 according to the stamp on the slide. The box itself was only labeled #3 but the writing on the various slides indicate that these were all taken from within Yellowstone Park. The one above though only said Bear Jam. How times have changed. I went there back in the late 80's, 20 years after my great uncle's trip, and whenever a bear was nearby, park officers would stand guard and make sure nobody got out of their vehicle or heaven forbid, got as close as the lady in the red flannel jacket did to take a picture. But traffic jams on the road due to bear sightings were still a thing even in the late 80's and I would guess even now. Bear & 2 Cubs This one scares the bejesus out of me and I'm sure the person in the station wagon the mama bear is leaning against as well.  Bear In Trashcan This one looks more like a juvenile bear.   Parents at West Thumb Geyser Basin Fi

 With a few warm-ish days at the very end of November, I turned my attention back to the antique furrow maker. The old handles were shot, split at the bolted end that takes most of the load and one of the handles had been broken off. As you might notice, I broke the other handle taking it apart. I obtained a new oak board and fashioned a new pair of handles seen above.  I cleaned off all the metal parts and gave them a couple coats of paint. The wheel was the hardest of all the parts because several of the spokes were bent from having been stepped on over the years and there were some flat spots in the rim. I banged the spokes straight and rounded out the flat spots as best as I could. It doesn't have to be perfect and it isn't, but it is a lot better looking now than before I started. Finally, I sanded the new oak handles so everything is smooth to the hand and slightly rounded over edges to prevent splinters. I then gave everything a couple nice coats of linseed oil as a prot

After my grandma died, we went up to the house where she lived with my uncle and sorted through her belongings, taking this and that. She had already given me things that I considered "of value" to me before her death, as she did to others, so there wasn't a lot of surprises. My uncle however, took me down to the basement where he stored his half of what he received after my great uncle died. I have a lot (presumably the other half) that ended up with my mom since my great uncle never had kids of his own. My uncle was looking to thin down his possessions and gave me free rein to take anything I wanted and I did end up with a lot of my great grandfather's possessions which I have blogged about in the past. One of the things that I took belonging to my uncle, I think, is a cardboard box full of slides. Yes I have the Steve Syndrome too. For those who aren't familiar, Steve blogs over at Shadows and Light and has numerous posts of old slides that he rescues from bei

Near the top of our Christmas tree this year sits a hand carved wooden cardinal courtesy of Far Side and Far Guy over at Far Side of Fifty blog. They make hand carved ornaments every year and this year (perhaps others too) gave away a few of them based on some Christmas memories of their readers. I wrote in about my Christmas memories of cutting down a red cedar tree and how I always associate the smell of cedar with Christmas and won one of their ornaments. Thank you! I am honored! Below is a picture of a creepy Santa, or at least that is what we call it. According to family lore, it was given to my mom by her grandma, my great grandmother, and has always been present at our family Christmas seasons, usually standing in a small wooden rocking chair that also was a gift to my mom when she was a toddler. After mom died, I'm not sure what became of the rocking chair but I ended up with the Santa Claus. I'm not sure why it seems creepy as it has a pleasant enough face. Perhaps be

Always one of my favorite days of the year, the day we light our first fire in the downstairs fireplace, arrived not to long ago. There aren't any distractions downstairs, no phones, no television, etc., only a comfortable reclining couch and a fireplace. So on periodic weekend days throughout the winter months, we will light a fire in the fireplace and spend the day reading and napping on the couch, basking in the warmth of the direct heat like lizards. The ashes from this fire have long since grown cold but I hope that the second fire is soon upon us. For my entire life, five decades and counting, we have always cut down a wild "Christmas tree" in the days after Thanksgiving. I used the quotes because we have always cut down a tree that for many is considered more like a weed than a tree of value. The red cedar tree, while native to our area, propagates very well and grows in undesirable places so people often spend lots of time cutting them down so stop them. They don&

  A little while ago was my mom's fifth death anniversary and as I have done in the past, I honored her name by going on her favorite hike. When I started doing it, I didn't think too much about the weather which is highly variable temperature wise at this time of the year. For the last couple years, it has been extremely cold. This year for a pleasant change, it was excellent hiking weather though perhaps still a bit on the brisk side if one is just sitting around. Due to our extreme drought, the river was very low and I'm pretty sure I could have waded across it at several places.  I seem to recall the wooded area we hike through burned a handful of years back but can't remember the details any longer. But the evidence of the burning is still very evident. There is also a lot of evidence of the park service thinning out the trees to create a more native environment along the river. They do this by girdling the trees to kill them and apparently just leaving them. There

  One of the tools we brought up from the farm garden was this antique furrow maker. I'm not sure how old it is but I know it is older than I am because all my garden planting memories involve pushing this thing around. As I unloaded out of the van upon our return, I noticed it was looking pretty rough. One handle had broken off and both handles were a bit spunky and cracked in places. The steel was in good shape but the bolts were rusted and many were a bit loose. Finally, the wheel had been flat spotted in a couple places. After looking at if for a few minutes, I thought this would be a fairly easy restoration project. I could make new oak handles, straighten out the wheel a bit and give all the steel a good coat of paint. I lubricated all the bolts and later was able to remove all but two of them. One I plan to grind off and just replace with a stainless version. The other actually holds the plow share onto the shank and has a special plow bolt. Since it was one of the bolts sti