Sandman's Journal

Today was for mowing. Reuben Benz helped me repair the museum's riding lawn mower. Good timing, too. With all the melted snow the acreage was verdant. Amidst dandelions, broken tumbleweed stalks, and grass, were tufts of alfalfa and sage. There's no aroma sweeter to me than mingled sage and alfalfa.

The sounds around the museum are "western," too. The windmill creaks. The doves coo. And meadowlarks! They reign supreme with their supernatural, fence post arias. I want a ringtone like that someday in case I get trapped back in Nashville or Seattle.

Reuben Benz, the mechanic, is one of my favorite Dunn Center old-timers. He walks, or rather, scuffles, hunched over. He purrs as he moves, which must help him transcend certain physical pains. He can't hear well, so I have to yell. He has some of the most smiling eyes, like an elf's. With arthritic fingers he can still fix a lot.

In the last decade so many Dunn Center elders I knew as a kid have passed on. For that reason, I sometimes regret not moving out here earlier. On the bright side, a lot of them are still alive and healthy. I need them around so I can buggle carrots from their gardens at night. No one I know grows carrots like those of the sons and daughters of pioneers. I like their dill, currants, and rhubarb, too. Choke cherry syrup is my farmor's specialty, but choke cherries are a wild fruit that aren't to be found in gardens.

When I got home I pulled out my parent's push mower and mowed our yard. Dad will be home in three days. Here's a picture of him (pink) and his moustache (white):

Last and most, my mom's graduation ceremony happened today and she received her Doctorate of Education from the University of Montana. She's worked tirelessly for months. Here's a photo of her thirty-two years ago: