Thingum Bob, Esq.

Husband, engineer, military, weekend adventurer.
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My New American Life: A NovelThe Gathering StormInto the WildThe Hunt for Red OctoberThe Bourne IdentityJurassic Park

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North Moulton Barn. Last morning of the trip before we hopped in the car and headed home. It was tough to get out of the sleeping bag at 5 AM. We were both tired from long days, long drives, and generally just feeling pretty grungy. It’s all so clearly worth it tho when you get to experience mornings like this.  Not just for the beauty of it all, but to also experience it while the crowds are still in bed, and to grab just a tiny bit of what it might have felt like to live out here a hundred years ago when this barn was built, and imagining every single sunrise looking this way. It’s an easy thing to fantasize about in the cold morning.

"The T. A. Moulton Barn is all that remains of the homestead built by Thomas Alma Moulton and his sons between about 1912. It sits west of the road known as Mormon Row, in an area called Antelope Flats, between the towns of Kelly and Moose. Now lying within Grand Teton National Park, it is near the homestead of Andy Chambers. The property with the barn was one of the last parcels sold to the National Park Service by the Moulton family."

More joy.

photon - futon

That’s pretty close.

Home, sweet, home.

Somebody needs to buckle down and get all of this crap unpacked.

photon - futon

eh…that’s pretty close

Oh, I almost forgot!  My niece was born three days before we left CO.  I said hi and got out of town before I had to change any diapers.

Cleaning grapes to get ready for grandpop’s annual wine making bonanza.

Picking pears in the backyard.

Grandpop said we could pick as many as wanted, but the only ones left were up high—just use the picker.

Turns out the “picker” is a coffee can on a stick and it doesn’t pick for shit.

Fundraiser breakfast at the American Legion

It’s hard for a Legion Post to survive in a town of 400 people.  Grandpop gifted me a membership as soon as I joined the military.  I’m not a big fan of some of the Legion’s work, but I’ll probably keep paying dues until I die or the Post goes under, whichever comes first.

In 10 years of membership, this was my first attendance.  Keep hanging on, Post 619.  Maybe I’ll be back in another decade or so.

If grandma catches him in her flower box again she’s gonna throw him in front of a tractor.