Lil Weekend Update

This is gonna be a lil weekend update. Translation: total randomness; run while you can.

While we were visiting Idaho, I got this great idea to re-visit a little place called "Grouse Creek Falls". I remember JD taking me there years ago when we were dating and having to ford his 1990 Ford Escort through the river to get to it...I remember how strikingly beautiful it was and what an impression it made the first time I saw it.

JD remembers none of this, much less how to actually GET back to it. So when we arrived in Sandpoint just before sunset, I had a WILD idea to go find it...with our kids...and my brother....and his three kids...and their two dogs.

It was an adventure.

I like adventures. But I don't like 'choose your own adventures' if you know what I mean.

Anyway, we finally found it but it wasn't like I remember. The was no river to ford. In fact, the off-road 'gem' that is Grouse Creek had been discovered by others. It had gone from a local secret to a state park. BIT of a difference in terms of trail traffic.

I've never thought of myself as one who would be lost with kids....no food....wearing flip-flops and no coat....in North Idaho....at sunset, but as we approached the "this trail is not maintained" sign, I started to find myself in an eerie situation. Turn back while I can or discover again, the beauty of the falls.

We marched onward. With flip-flops. With Gage on my shoulders. In the mud. Balancing on logs. In more mud. Up a cliff. Over logs. Up home-made stairs. Over hills. And onto rocks. Here she is in all her glory: Grouse Creek Falls.

So as you gaze at these pictures, please understand this. What is beauty when you are a teen (and immortal) is not beauty when you are a mother (and no all too well how life can literally slip from your fingertips). So you can imagine how long I wanted to stay above these raging waters and 'take in the beauty'.

Note the death grip (and how much fun Ryan is having standing

"right next to me...do not move":

I finally handed Gage off to Jason so I could peek over the edge for myself:

and alas, a family portrait to document our 'never again'. Someone else can have Grouse Creek Falls. I've got kids to protect :)

-------------------------------------------------------------

In other news....

___________________________________________

I came home on Tuesday afternoon to a husband eagerly awaiting my return. He was able to score {some} asparagus from a local outfit for $.75 per pound. So I had sink fulls and sink fulls of this:

Translation? We get to can up 50 pounds of pickled asparagus.

Yeah us.

Just what I want to do right after I get home from work. The good news, though, is that JD pretty much had all the prep work done and we were geared up for the assembly line. The ingredients were set out:

The spears were clean and ready to be trimmed:Using the new cutting board with a cutting LINE (oh, so important when trying to cut A LOT at a time):

The brine was made and awaiting a boil:
The only thing we had to do was blanch it for one minute and rip it out of the boiling hot water:
Note the gloves. Ah, the story of the gloves. Jane (the recipe giver) uses gloves and assured JD that, "IF my memory serves me correct, her hubby George just picked up the boiling veggies with his gloved up hands".

Cuss words later, my memory evidently did not serve me well. Oh, and the plastic gloves almost melted to JD's hands. Whoops.

But, four beers for him and one margarita for me later....

we had the time of our lives canning 50 pounds of asparagus.

------------------------------------------------------------------

and before I go, I just haveta say that we too, had a flat to fix along side the road this year....must have been the year of the flats...