boy crazy

Aren't I lucky?

cheryl and roger (and mr. darcey and wolfie)

Cheryl came into my life when I was 21 years old as my mentor for my teaching internship (student teaching) in Tucson, Arizona. All that I do well as a teacher, I do well because of her expert guidance and willingness to let me discover myself as a teacher. She remains my mentor and is also a dear, dear friend.

She and her charming husband Roger, along with their adorable dogs Mr. Darcey and Wolfie, came to stay with us for the weekend. They left only a few hours ago. Timothy keeps saying "Cheryl, back! Darcey, Wolfie, back! Roger, back!" I miss them too. They arrived on Friday evening. Saturday, we took them to the cabin for the night. Sunday evening we spent in Old Town. Dad took Roger for a sight-seeing flight this morning, and bing, just like that, they are gone, headed for five or six more nights of camping in their cool camper/truck as they make their way back to Tucson.

We've had so much snow so late in the year this year that this was our first trip to the cabin since last October. My parents haven't even been up there other than Dad making a couple of quick overnight stays to turn on the heat and water and make sure everything was in order. This is important only because it meant that the usually well stocked kitchen was a bit bare and it was vital that we pack enough food for our stay. Those of you who know Mom know that normally there's enough food for a small army up there. They just had the lake stocked with rainbow and I thought we might have an easy time catching fish that have been fed pellets their whole life and now were fighting each other for flies. However, I bought fish and froze it to take just to make sure. Of course, when we got up there, I discovered that I'd left the fish in the freezer at home. Paul's fishing for sport became fishing for survival in an instant. I was ready to drive up to Laramie to get food, but everyone agreed to have soup if necessary.

This trip was Paul's first opportunity to really give his new fly rod a work out. A former colleague made it for him, and he'd only used it once and briefly albeit successfully, at that. He caught three large fish, had three more almost to shore when they got off, and had several serious hits before he called it quits. I added a fourth fish to the catch, and we had a feast for dinner.

daddy's first fish of the day

the day's catch and paul's new rod. mine is neither the largest nor the smallest.

On Sunday morning, we piled into our car and went on a short safari where we enjoyed the view and saw a moose. Eagle-eyed Cheryl spotted the moose. Tim seems to think that moose are common up there, but it's rare to see them, and we were all impressed.

on safari

moose

When we drove back to the cabin, a mule deer greeted us. She'd been enjoying the salt lick behind the cabin.

mule deer

Sunday evening, we strolled around Old Town, met up with friends of Cheryl and Roger, and ate dinner at Coopersmith's. Their friends are Anton, a former student of Cheryl's and his wife Erin. I first met Anton about 12 years ago, back when Cheryl and I took our students on European tours every summer. I'm not sure which of us was more surprised, Anton or me, when we realized the connection.

Roger used to fly, and instruct, gliders. I was slow to think of it, but asked Dad to take him up this morning for a sight-seeing trip. Roger was excited. Cheryl, Timothy, the dogs, and I danced around the back yard waving as they circled the house. Cheryl loaded their truck and then left to collect Roger at my parents' house.

We hope to see them again in September. Timothy loves having house guests, as do Paul and I, so if you have some time on your hands, you have a bed here.

friends

Timothy and Luke seem to truly like each other. Tim kisses Luke, strokes his head, and soothes him when he cries; Luke follows Tim with his eyes and smiles and laughs whenever Tim comes into his line of sight. When Paul asked Tim to put his arm around Luke, Timothy placed it like it is in the photo instead of on the back of the couch.