Plotting Against the Meek

We Are Innocent! Baa-aaa!

"But I was like a gentle lamb led to the slaughter; And I did not know that they had devised plots against me." Jeremiah 11:19

This has been quite the week! Due to tribal politics, elections, and the fact that everyone running for office on the reservation are related to each other (not quite Deliverance-style, but purt'neer close), on Wednesday my fellow colleagues and I were told not to come back to work. The faithful soldier that I am, I did go back into work the following day to find that I still had my job, but everything feels tenuous at best. I am sure everyone in the United States feels the same way right now.

Seeing as how everything is a little shaky, I took a job on Saturday to do a lot painting and maybe a little leaf-raking in town, only to have the ol' bait-and-switch pulled, and I ended up doing a little painting and 8 hard hours of leaf-raking. I am pretty sure I could hear the clanging sound of men hitting rocks with pick axes and singing gospel somewheres nearby. This came after a full day of rock climbing the day before; my body gratefully gave in to Daylight Savings this morning as well as a midafternoon nap. The leaping sheep in my dreams quickly gave way to the leaping sheep next to my bunkhouse.

Yes, today was sheep culling day. Deciding the fates of 60-some-odd, innocent, cute, fluffy sheep (okay, they are also really stinky, dirty, way too strong, and wily!). Which ones are staying, which ones are going to be...

mutton chops.

Mutton chops for breakfast, lunch, and dinner given how many sheep we culled.

Speaking of wolves and lambs... Apparently, we are quite the exciting bunch! Margery's family has ulterior motives in running the ranch (from thousands of miles away), and as of this week they have hired a spy (ex-cop who is now a "private investigator") to come by a couple times a week, sit in his truck, and watch us. We are all plotting ways to have fun with him, so if anyone has any good ideas for messing with spies, let us know. Things that don't necessarily involve racecars, helicopters, and women in bikinis. Okay. Maybe we could handle the women in bikinis part. They could serve me drinks while I could start on my upcoming, award-winning novel.

Howdy Ma'am

Lander, Wyoming

After a quick trip home, and a freaky, icy trip back to Wyoming, I am now finally settling in at the Circle Pine ranch here in Lander, just in time to catch the tail end of the first snow storm of the season!

With copious amounts of sunshine this week, the snow quickly turned our dirt road into a big mudfest! My city slicker tires slid all over the place, making it a much scarier endeavor than during snow or ice. I broke in my car and mud-driving skills on the first day by driving the left side of my car into a deceptive snow-covered, muddy trench!! Fortunately it was on our dirt road, not too far from home, so a quick call and a few minutes later, Chris pulled me out with his backhoe!! Yeah, backhoe!! I highly recommend living with someone who owns a backhoe. My car is now outfitted with burly snow (mud) tires, so now it actually comes to a stop when that 100 head of elk crosses the road inches away from my car during the dark of night.

Ahhh, Wyoming. I love that I can pretty much go anywhere in this town and say, "Put it on my account," or rather, "Put it on the ranch account, Gary!" Or if you don't know what part or item you need from a store, they will just send you home with a few different options and you just bring back the ones you don't use, no questions asked, no collateral asked for, nothing. Everyone seems to have everyone's phone numbers memorized as only the last four numbers are different. Everyone knows what everyone owns, so you just ask for a part for "the tank" and you get the right part! The UPS man will wait at your house while you repackage something in front of him.

Quirkiness is everywhere. Today one of the admin people at the office took her shoes off at the main desk and started trimming her toenails, which spurred a conversation about diabetes and bad toenails amongst some staff, which turned into someone admitting they had all their toenails removed so they wouldn't cause problems. Fortunately I was in my office and couldn't see any of this, only hear it. The barista guy at a coffeeshop up the road was wearing a kilt. People laugh at you when you talk about washing your car, and they laugh again when your remote "beep" goes off, locking your car. There appear to be very few building codes, and antlers and railroad ties are viable and popular building materials. This morning I walked out of Ace Hardware and was greeted by a tall, dark cowboy on horseback; as I got into my car, he tied his horse up to the bike rack out front and went shopping!

The Circle Pine has been treating me well - I roll out of bed every morning and spend a solid hour or more feeding and moving ranch animals, so I start my day wide awake with a good dose of brisk, fresh air and a workout. Yes, as hard to believe as it is, I am getting up out of bed every morning before 7:30am! Margery and Chris have been feeding me a LOT - lots of steak and sheep and eggs and birthday cake. I am so well fed in fact, that if my name were Gretel, I might be worried! I've seen what they did to Buster the sheep; he was delicious!

I am a ranchhand

Last week we had a sculptor come to Stan's ranch to start sculpting a bust of his son Daniel. I mentioned that I was going to be going to Boulder to do some petsitting soon, and that I was a little tired of living in the tipi, so if she knew of anyone with a spare bedroom somewhere…. And bam! Serendipity strikes again! It just so happened she needed a petsitter this week for her ranch! Which has now turned into me living here through the winter!

Picture this: A small cluster of cabins and barns nestled into a tall, rocky canyon, sweeping yellow fields, red cliffs, emerald pine trees, fresh peppermint growing along the ditch, the swish of a river nearby, chickens clucking, roosters crowing, apples and chokecherries ripening - in other words, paradise!

I walked into the main house and thought I had walked into a movie set! An antique writing table sits in the hall, history books spilled open, notes taken, papers scattered around. To the left is a sitting room, the curtains are pulled to keep out the heat which lends the room a particularly mysterious quality as the dark shadows fall on the giant, stuffed big horned sheep in the corner, and there is just enough light sifting through to notice the tiger skin rug with head attached on the floor, thrown over another animal skin, a large antique couch, wood paneled ceiling, animal heads on the wall. The bedroom is all wood, silk, textiles, animal fur rugs, skeins of Navajo wool spilling out of a basket in the corner, boxed valances at the windows, stenciled in Austria. There is a stairway that leads downstairs, the light from the basement window shines bleakly up the stairway revealing larger than life murals of what seem to be the characters from Alice in Wonderland.

Outside there is a pool, slightly green because it is turned off, flowers spill out over the terraces above, a gorgeous oasis of a picnic area off to the side of the pool complete with teak furniture, antique grill, large candles. Under the main cliffs is a long, glass-enclosed art studio that looks down onto the living area. The "bunkhouse" that I stay in is one-story house with three bedrooms, a living room, a 10' long stone fireplace, a kitchen, dining room, laundry, a lovely bathroom, and many shelves filled with the oddest assortment of books, fossils, and little animal skulls. Everything here feels like it is at least 50 years old if not older.

Nearby is a pond full of white geese. There is a barn with a dairy cow (Blossom) and her baby (Willow), a whole bunch of grey sheep, and four huge horses that like hugs. There are four barn cats, two dogs, a bunch of chickens and roosters, doves, and peacocks - one of which is about to hatch a baby! Across the river is a rustic cabin with an old-fashioned, wood-fired cooking stove, and there are 2 old silvery campers permanently fixed into the ground, complete with quilted beds and wood finishings.

The cliffs that overlook the house are filled with Indian paintings, bits of arrowheads and flints, graves, and more. I can't wait to go exploring! I can't believe I am living here!

Summer Camp

Having just arrived back in Wyoming after a 2-week stint at Mountain Therapy Camp, I realized that not everyone has a good idea of what it is I do there. Mountain Therapy Camp was created for children with disabilities, ranging from cerebral palsy, Down's Syndrome, Autism, and a variety of genetic disorders, and typically ages 4 - 8. The camp was designed as a way for these children to receive a week of intensive therapies, as well as to provide them with some "normal" summer camp activities that they would otherwise never get to experience. At the same time, parents get the day off to attend seminars or take respite, and siblings go to a typical summer camp.

Each therapy team consists of 5 therapists, 5 children, and 2 volunteers. Generally there is a Speech Therapist, Physical Therapist, Occupational Therapist, and Music and Art Therapists, and occasionally behavioral therapists too. For 5 days, each child receives 5 hours of one-on-one therapy and 1 hour of an activity like canoeing or climbing. That means in one week each child receives 25-30 hours of therapy, something that might take them up 6 months or more to receive at public school, plus all their therapists at camp are working on the same exact 3-4 goals the entire time - that is rare in the world of therapy! Which also means that as an art therapist, I need to find ways to use art to help kids learn to speak, learn to walk, control behavior, and other not typically addressed through art kind of goals!

We have 6 sessions a day, which means I have a couple minutes between each kid to document notes, go to the bathroom, and set up for the next child who has completely different goals as to the one before. Snack and lunch are sessions, there are no "breaks." Amidst all the therapy, we also are either changing diapers or toilet-training children that can weigh up to 50 lbs and might not be able to assist at all. Phew! After therapy, the kids go back to their cabins with their parents, the therapists finish notes, take a break, and meet as a team before and after dinner to discuss the day's work and start putting together treatment books, sometimes for 3 - 5 hours per night. On the penultimate evening, we put together the books, which means this day is easily 12 hours long. The last day we have a regular therapy day in addition to 5 hours of meetings with parents to let them know about the work their child did, meaning another 12 hour day.

Does it work? Does it pay off? Last week we had two 5 year-old girls who were only speaking 2 word phrases start using full, correct sentences. A 5 year-old boy who had only taken 3 independent steps in his whole life took 28 steps the second day of therapy, and continued to walk independently through the week. One child participated beautifully in all the sporting activities her parents claimed she never, ever would. A lot can happen in a week!

Make Yourself Comfortable

Northern Arapahoe Tribe

Recently I've received a few comments from visiting Indians at Stan's house that they were struck to see a white woman sitting around "as if she belonged" and looking so comfortable. More often than not, they drive up what I imagine they see is a pale woman in a skirt and a fitted shirt, sitting on a bench on the front porch of a mobile home, wedged between two very large Indians looking even larger because they are wearing oversized, XXL athletic clothing (generally all black), they are smoking, dogs are at our feet, babies crawling dangerously close to the edge of the deck. She is probably bouncing a tiny Indian baby on her knee while shooing off an older Indian child who could win awards with his "Little Brother Mental Torture" skills.

This morning I received a phone call and was asked where I was and what I was doing. My reply: I'm just out lounging on top of the old washing machine out behind the house in the shade. Their reply: "Daaaamn, you have definitely assimilated!" I have to admit, until yesterday I couldn't understand the draw to the washing machine/dryer loungers out back that the kids crawl all over all the time. But my tush was quite comfortable on the cold metal, and the slanted part where the dials are was the perfect incline for my back and elbow. Maybe I should sew some cushions for them because they certainly will never be dragged to the dump. Next thing we know I'll be sleeping on the living room floor without blankets, playing under the deck for entertainment, swimming in the ditch, and those liver and cheese sandwiches on wonder bread will start looking tasty.

With Eagles Wings

Today we entered into our second parade of the season, opening for the Lamont County Fair! Stan's boys and myself partook of the festivities through the non-profit group With Eagles Wings from Arapahoe, Wyoming. This group offers assistance to young men, women, and adolescents who struggle with chemical dependency and other issues, and the teens of this group have started some group therapy work with us once or twice a week at Stan's house. I hope you have the chance to check out my snapfish site so you can see all the pictures!

The night before the parade was as insane as I hope it gets around here. First off, no one around here likes to get up before 11am besides me, and even I fall short a few mornings a week after late night sweat lodge ceremonies! As we are winding down, trying to get into bed early by 10pm, Stan informs me that his two young nephews who normally help him out during the night and leaving with their uncle at midnight to go pick up some supplies for the parade. Which means I have to sleep in the house in case Stan needs anything during the night. As I am about to drift off, the young mother of Stan's grandson drops off her 1 year-old after her aunt threatened to hide him and take him away! So she brings this little baby, who had just been sleeping, into our house at the same time Stan's nephews start fighting over who got to sleep on the floor beside my couch when they got back from getting supplies. Suddenly I have a screaming, overtired, cranky baby in my arms as I am supposed to be getting some sleep. The boys are fighting, baby screaming, Stan yelling, and of course, the reason we have the baby is because its mom wanted to go out and party instead of caring for her kid. Arrrrg... Resentment, resentment... The boys finally take off, and teenage Sequoia comes in and takes the baby. Throughout the night the baby has nightmares and screams so loudly, that even with earplugs, my skin crawls. Everything is quiet, the boys come back complete with a full-on couch they decide to move into the living room at 3 o'clock in the morning. I get so fed up with the noise I finally grab my pillow and go back out to my peaceful tipi and catch some z's. At 4:30am another young mother comes into my tipi, crying that she needs a ride home and needs my phone. I let her borrow it only to have Daniel come back into the tipi, screaming at me to not lend my phone out to someone who is drunk and needs to stay put. Ack. I finally just get up since we need to get up anyway to get ready for the parade.

Once everyone got up, parade preparations went smoothly and everyone had a great time! The boys looked awesome in their warpaint, and they are hoping to win First Place for Mounted participants in this parade as they did in the Lander parade. After the parade we all jumped into Stan's pickup truck and headed down to the swimmin' hole to cool down in the 90F heat! Later, back at Stan's, the 3-week old foal I have been trying gently tame to my presence was lying down taking a nap, and it finally let me come right up to it and rub it all over - it never even got up! It just enjoyed its little massage. Afterwards I cooked dinner for about 20 people and we had a small, super hot sweat lodge ceremony. I ate and promptly fell asleep, the moon and stars lighting up my tipi, happy that the night before was not an omen for the day ahead.

You Just Never Know...

Western Diamondback Rattlesnake

Ahhh... Just another typical day of housework and looking after children... or is it??

Finally fed up with the state of Stan's bathroom, I decided it was time for an overhaul. The 300 bath towels, medical supplies, Daniel's various hair clips and hair products and hair brushes and rubberbands and all the other pretty boy items needed to be dealt with. The obvious place for much of these was the cupboard under the sink. As I opened the cupboard door to put them away, a large, coiled rattlesnake greeted me with a loud hiss (I think he was sitting on his rattle)! Ack!!

I quickly shut the door and summoned the guys who were all sitting around in the kitchen smoking and swapping stories. It was the fastest I ever saw this bunch jump up to attention, and several of them took turns bashing the snake without much success. Ken finally grabbed it by its tail, swung it around, and smacked its head on the bathtub, leaving me with the addition of snake blood and a soggy dead mouse to clean up.

I now peek into cupboards before I open them up all the way, I jump a little more at weird sounds in the grass, and in addition to shaking my sleeping bag out each night, I hang it up during the day.