Happily, still house hunting in MT...

Ohio River, at sunset

...but getting some perspective on it by thinking about the east -- Louisville, Ky., where Mom and I recently checked out the sunset after dinner at Blue Dog (http://goo.gl/HJzBB). This bank of the Ohio, east of downtown, might've been close to where William Clark tied up, then climbed the hill for a visit with his sister at the old Locust Grove Plantation.

Locust Grove

A Web site calls it, "The last remaining residential building to ever provide shelter to the Lewis and Clark Expedition leaders, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark, the Locust Grove is a National Historic Landmark in Louisville, Kentucky. It was owned by Clark’s sister Lucy Clark Croghan and her husband, William Croghan." (See http://www.locustgrove.org/). An 18th century "domestic Georgian" mansion, it is a far cry from one of the little 20th century Montana homes that we've been looking to buy. Alex and I turned down the final counter-offer on the recent Hamilton cottage, after our appraisals came in late and way lower than the asking price. It didn't help that the stock market tanked that week, and we also would've had expensive repairs for some aforementioned home-inspection problems. So...

We are fine with the decision. In fact, we go out and "celebrate" with our good friends Hank and Rochelle over an excellent Missouri-sourced dinner and wine at Farmhaus (http://goo.gl/6Mv9o), including...

...my "local summer salad," served in a Ball canning jar that's carefully spilled onto a plate at table

Onward.

One or both of us plan to make another trip to Montana this fall (maybe staying into winter to do some cross-country skiing on what we hear are impeccably groomed trails at Lost Trail Pass!!). We'd fly this time; save the next drive for a rental truck with furniture!

I keep the Wyoming fortune cookie in mind...

What an adventure! Wish us luck.

Homes, Homes on the Range?

Joplin, Mo., where many homes were destroyed by the May 22 tornado (photo by J.B. Forbes)

How lucky am I? We have a fantastic 100-year-old (this year!) St. Louis home that we've rehabbed (okay, it's not perfect, but it's close enough). We own my mother's pristine little 1920s condo in Louisville, with windows on three sides looking out on mature maples, sweet bay and conifers; she feels like she's in a tree house even though she's on the first floor, and she loves it! And we're able to pursue yet another home -- an in-town cottage in Hamilton, Montana! Some people have lost homes, lost everything, and we've been just frugal enough and lucky enough to be able to add on.

If we got the little Montana place, I am thinking we'd rent it much of the year through a wonderful woman there, and "book" our own visits in the heat of July and August (here), plus a month or so in winter for cross-country skiing and other outdoor winter stuff. But we're still struggling with how we might divide our time.

I think about all of these options and how incredibly lucky we are to have them when I visit the photo exhibit of Joplin's tornado-flattened homes.  My former colleagues at the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, senior staff photographer Jim Forbes...

the lovely Mr. Forbes

 ... and (Pulitzer Prize finalist) Robert Cohen, put on this showing with help from the newspaper and from Schiller's Camera to raise money for Joplin. I missed the party and silent auction but stop by the next day and fall in love with the horrible beauty of these shots.

(photo by Robert Cohen)

I can't stop thinking about them, and when I email Forbes about one of his images, he says that if I match the silent-auction price, I can get it, framed!! What a deal. Happy Birthday to me, and the proceeds go to Joplin! Can't wait. 

Meantime, I also can't wait to hear about the Hamilton, MT, house.


Do we really get it?  (Do we really get it?) Maybe we weren't meant to have the house. It is all so complicated.

Oy vey is the only, short-hand way to describe it.  We are trying to be the best -- VERY BEST -- consumers, getting inspections on ALL of the pertinent issues before closing on what may be our "last, best place." And yet, those very inspections may be our undoing.

They turn up many unforseen problems with the cute little house: an aging electrical system that may have been grandfathered in to the local code, in an otherwise beautifully refurbished home, circa 1939; a decades-old shingled roof needing to be replaced; but most upsetting, a basement radon reading of 16 (normal levels shouldn't go above 4, according to the EPA, the Montana Dept. of Human Health and Public Services and other authorities; YIKES!).

granite in nearby Bodgett Creek canyon

Montana is a surrounded by and built on top of gorgeous granite -- a natural source of radioactivity. It is "a terrible beauty," to hijack the phrase and its meaning from the Irish poet William Butler Yeats. But it IS horribly wonderful -- all of that decaying radioactive uranium in those gorgeous upthrusts of steel-gray rock.

It's kind of funny, too. Only one in ten houses that we looked at had been radon tested. The tested one had, indeed, gone through a radon-mitigation process. We wonder if Montanans don't worry about such things, take it as a part of life in the Bitterroot. In fact, online, I found this funny little Montana "resort" site featuring so-called Radon Health Mines, at http://www.roadsideamerica.com/story/2143. People with arthritis and lupus (me on both counts, but very mild cases) go there, the story says, for "natural" treatments!?! They do keep children and pregnant women out. I would never partake.

And yet, it makes me think again and again about the radon. We've made pre-sale radon mitigation a condition of the cottage purchase -- no negotiating. We've also asked for a price reduction to factor in the new roof and electrical work that we would have to do.


(Crickets.)  The sellers are very quiet. We get occasional emails from our real-estate broker saying they're "still pondering... it may be a day or two yet before they respond." 

Meanwhile, I go back to my life in St. Louis. I get approved for an American Express credit card (whoopee!! don't tell me, Equifax, that I don't have a credit rating!!!).  We're slogging past the spate of 100+ temperatures (103 yesterday) and are expecting a "cool spell" of high temps only in the mid-90s.  Out I go today, to work a little in our scorched garden and then on to a meeting for Brightside St. Louis (see a new promotional image for my favorite daffodil-supplying, not-for-profit, below).

http://operationbrightside.org/

And we wait. And we wait. And we wait. I'm thinking that I very well may be planting fall crops of lettuces and kale in my St. Louis garden by the time we hear back from Montana. Oy, again...

The Last Best Place...

                                                                                              ...may be our last best place...

On the beautiful Blodgett Overlook Trail, MT

As of this week, we have a contract on the beautifully renovated, cedar-sided '30s cottage in Hamilton, MT (below). Woo hoo!

Current owners have done a fantastic job with the sunny, cheerful Craftsman-like interior -- gorgeous wood floors, fireplace, bright kitchen open to a dining room plus cute little built-in for an office that faces a rear, garden-view picture window (MINE, MINE, ALL MINE!).  I can't wait to get back into gardening but starting in front. I want to plump-up the foundation plantings, prune suckers off of that gorgeous shade tree (Boxelder, I think), maybe add a little landscaped, white picket fence, just along the front sidewalk? Alex is rolling his eyes at that last detail -- haha!  But first...

 At Lee Metcalf Wildlife Refuge

...we must get our ducks in a row!

We've been too frugal (is that possible?) in St. Louis, with only debit cards for several years,  two paid-off mortgages and two paid-off cars. Our potential lender is digging around in 10 or so other promptly-paid accounts to re-establish a credit report, can you believe? In our defense, we've skipped such things as travel-bonus credit cards simply because we've been taking pretty adventurous driving vacations in recent years (principally to a rustic family island in northern Lake Superior). Oh, there was that one frequent-flyer-paid trip to Italy and another to Seattle. But we'd really given no thought to opening new credit. Guess what? Today we've both applied for such cards, not to change the Montana mortgage situation but for future travel between that state, St. Louis and places where relatives live.

We're being assured by lender, real-estate broker and others that we're doing the right things to keep all our "ducks" in a row and not "jumping off"...

...as from a log at the Montana refuge...

...and getting away!

This is such a major life-changing event!! We are boggled. Our heads literally are exploding every time we think of some new detail, some lost opportunity. What would we take on a first trip? (Penske, the most reliable rental-truck co., doesn't have any drop-off points in MT so, after unloading, we'd have to go another 3 hours into nearby Idaho, jeez). Who will house-sit for us when/if we go?? (Suddenly, we think we may have an answer to that one -- a friend's wonderful daughter)? Ultimately, should we join SabbaticalHomes.com, "The academic community’s resource for home exchanges and home rentals worldwide since 2000," for those itinerant professors visiting Washington U. and looking for a house with three bedrooms, two baths, etc. etc., all within a few blocks of the U.??? Will we even sell the St. Louis house in a better market?!!!?? We do not know. We do know that we love this house and all of the improvements we've made.

We also keep thinking about how very much we'll miss vacationing at our peaceful Isle Royale/Lake Superior, Gale family cabin:

sunrise from the Gale Island front dock

We think, too, of course, about how often we'll get to see our family living in Kentucky and Indiana:

my Mom, Marilyn Homan

my son, Fred Gibson Jr.

Fred's (and his wife Allison's) daughter Shelby...

...and their sons Zach, left, and Trey

Also, my brother Ralph Homan, his wife Sandy and their grown kids are not only welcome but also strongly encouraged to visit!! About that, I have two words to say to the entire family -- guest rooms!!

niece Allison Homan, nephews Andrew Homan, middle, and Michael Homan

And there are our friends in Hamilton, some new to me, some of them Alex's oldest buddies, going back as far as his summer-long vacations to Montana in the 1950s:

Kelsey Milner and grandchild

Kelsy welcoming daughters Liz and Laura home

 The Milner family is quite a tribe when they all get together, as they did in June when their late, great matriarch and uber-environmentalist Doris Milner was honored by the U.S. Forest Service at a special mountain-top event. Later, there were big dinners on the Milner family home's back deck.

Doris' children are Scott, center; Jean, right; Eric, behind Jean; Kelsy's wife Mary shepherds kids; others are grandchildren and great-grandchildren

 
But quieter evenings up on the family home's back deck also are not to be missed (thanks for the open invitation, Eric!).  And the mountain-view dinners at Kels and Mary's are a wonderful treat.

Hope to see all y'all soon!!

Daffodils in July??

Narcissus 'Tahiti'
(photo from DaffSeek.org)

I know that I am home in St. Louis because the humidity is 79 percent and temps are threatening to go up to 100 degrees again on Sunday (I should be grateful that the high today will only be 89 and that it rained a little yesterday). And I'm thinking about -- what? a swim in a pool? a run through a sprinkler? a nap in the air-conditioning? (yes, the latter is a clear possibility this afternoon); another vacation in cool, clear Montana? (heck, yeah!). 

But I'm so yearning for cooler temps here, the kind of cool ones that define fall in this part of the country. And for me, thinking about autumn is one of several reasons to think about the bulbs that I'll plant when there's a nip of frost in the air. As I have been volunteering with Brightside St. Louis this year (formerly known as Operation Brightside), I've become aware of their wonderful program of taking orders for Dutch bulbs in mid-summer (now!) through fall as a major fund-raising effort. They do it every year. The bulbs you order may arrive in the mail or get picked up at the Forest Park Greenhouses -- whatever you arrange -- in October. 


And this year, there's a new twist to the affordable, beautiful Brightside bulbs. A brand new Midwest Mix is available, of the hardiest narcissus bulbs for this region! Brightside has partnered with the Greater St. Louis Daffodil Society to pick a mix of 30 best bulbs. They will bloom just in time for Brightside's 30th anniversary next spring -- 2012. And each bag of 30 in the Midwest Mix costs only $16. What a deal!!!! Go to http://operationbrightside.org/ to learn, and see, more (such as below).

Narcissus 'Pink Charm'
(photo from DaffSeek.org)

I was lucky enough to sit in on the meeting with the daffodil society's past-president Jason Delaney and current president Lynn Slackman, and with Mary Lou Green of Brightside, of course, when they chose little orange-and-yellow 'Tahiti' plus ivory-and-pinky-orange 'Pink Charm,' along with sturdy, tall, all-yellow 'Carlton' with its sweet fragrance and fierce habit of naturalizing (if that's what you want in your garden); 'Slim Whitman,' 'Barrett Browning,' and 'Suada' are the other three varieties in the mix.


And later, it was so much fun to go with the amazing Jason to KMOV-Channel 4 for a live interview about the daffodil choices.  Jason has traveled around the world (see http://www.mobot.org/hort/edu/jasondel.shtml) collecting bulbs and lecturing and is one of the youngest senior outdoor horticulturists at the Missouri Botanical Garden. 

Jason Delaney

We arrive at the station -- just a stoplight away from the Gateway Arch -- and head to the compact, cheerful little studio of my favorite local show, Great Day St. Louis (http://www.kmov.com/great-day-st-louis).

Jason, left, huddles with co-host Matt Chambers in darkness behind the set.

And then we get the word that the network is preempting some, maybe all, of the local show for President Obama's press conference on the debt-ceiling crisis.

Pres. Obama and KMOV technician

We all stop and listen as Pres. Obama delivers a cool, calm, reasoned assessment of the situation (I am biased here, as you may know; my car already bears an Obama 2012 sticker). 


As it turns out, a savvy KMOV producer decides to tape Jason's segment instead of asking us to come again another day.  Jason and Matt carry on...

And daffodils have their July day...

'Pink Charm' on the monitor, right; Jason and Matt on-camera, left.

...which will be Wed., July 20, as it's currently scheduled. Watch live, set the TiVo for 10 a.m. that day, or go afterwards to the station's Web site (http://www.kmov.com/great-day-st-louis) for a look. Can autumn be very far off, St. Louis??

Homan is home, for now anyway...

We are back in St. Louis! The weather's not so bad... a bit more humid than in Montana, no mountains gleaming in the distance, but hey, it's home. The folks who house sat for us left the house cleaner than  we did for them, I think. They cut the grass and also killed one of our many orchids by overwatering. I remind them that all gardeners kill plants, but they buy us a replacement cymbidium from my fine old employer Bowood Farms (http://www.bowoodfarms.com) anyway.  My own garden's perennials are overgrown and everything needs major weeding, including the patio, so no pictures of that.

But we have a few, very fond memories of our last days on the road.

There's the unusual amount of snow still hanging around the scenic byways of the aptly named Snowy Range in Wyoming...

...in July! So much snow that we see skateboarder kids -- buff and tanned, in cargo shorts and T-shirts -- carrying their boards along the roadside looking for the next ride. We eat lunch on the porch of a cute, old hotel in Centennial (http://www.themountainviewhotel.com/) and then hightail it to the east. It's the end of true touristing.

We stay overnight with Alex's cousin Kathy in Golden, Colo. Her house in the foothills looks out over Denver -- quite a spectacular view at night. And the type of coal train that John McPhee wrote about so eloquently in the New Yorker (http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2005/10/03/051003fa_fact_mcphee) travels on tracks down the hill from her house.

I wish I could say the rest of the drive east through Colorado and Kansas is beautiful. It is not. What it is is hot, hazy and boring. Sorry, but we simply are tired of driving. And flat corn and wheat fields -- even the Konza Prairie, as we zip past -- do not inspire.

And so our little oasis is Kansas City, where we've booked a tiny room with balcony and bath, on the third floor of the historic Southmoreland Inn near Country Club Plaza (http://www.southmoreland.com/)...

We stop in long enough to shower, then dash back toward downtown and Lidia's, the Italian restaurant of the New York chef Lidia Bastianich. It's located in a former railroad house just north of KC's Union Station (http://www.lidias-kc.com/) and looks dramatically different than its Web site photos...

...with "fireworks" overhead (perfect for 4th of July weekend dining)...

 ...a sweet little Midwest-brick garden entryway...

...and a rather thin crowd at 8 p.m. But fellow diners who are there are mostly families feasting on Lidia's Sunday night "family style" prix fixe dinners. That's what we have, too -- delightful antipasti, salad, pasta with garlicky braised greens, two entrees of yummy lasagna or beef, and panna cotta for dessert -- with leftovers to put in our cooler for snacking, later on. (The Web site prices family dining at $22 apiece, but we paid $24 -- still a bargain!)

 And as wine is served...

...there's a final surprise. The type of coal trains from Wyoming that we saw pass Cousin Kathy's and move east through the plains to fire up far-away power plants pass quietly by just beyond Lidia's patio and parking lot. It feels like we're supposed to be there -- tying up lose ends of the trip.

We're no Lewis and Clark...

Bitterroot
(Lewisia rediviva)

...and we left Montana yesterday (hooray for home! boohoo for the end to our great vacation) without even knowing exactly what a Bitterroot is. 

And so I search around and read that the Lewis and Clark Expedition first encountered the little, low-growing plant -- with simple pinkish flowers and a fleshy taproot -- on its return trip through the Bitterroot Valley in 1806.  "Instead of admiring the flower, Meriwether Lewis saw and tasted the root," says a National Geographic Web site.  "Writing in his journal, Lewis described the root as 'cilindric and as white as snow throughout, except some small parts of the hard black rind which they had not seperated in the preperation… [the roots] became perfectly soft by boiling, but had a very bitter taste, which was naucious to my pallate, and [I] transfered them to the Indians who had eat them heartily.'" Decades later, in 1893, the Bitterroot plant was voted the Montana state flower (http://montana.plant-life.org/page_bitterroot.htm). Unfortunately, we never see one of these flowers on our hikes.

Speaking of the daring expeditionary duo, we have crossed Lewis and Clark's trail west and east -- from and to St. Louis -- several times on this trip, and follow it again as we drive south on US-93, out of the Bitterroot valley and over Lost Trail Pass (the expedition temporarily lost their way in snow and sleet). Alex learned to ski at a small, rope-tow-only resort there when he was a child. It's now called Lost Trail Powder Mountain and comes complete with ski lifts as well as rope tows but still looks pleasingly Mom-and-Pop around the lodge.

Ski runs at Lost Trail

Still on the trail, we have breakfast at The Crossing in Wisdom, MT, and walk around the tiny, quirky town, altitude 6,404 feet...

...and also visit a beautiful hilltop just outside of Wisdom.

A historical marker there is at the campsite of Meriwether Lewis, where he celebrated his birthday with a sad letter for such an amazing and accomplished man. I copied it, below:


"This day I completed my thirty first year, and conceived that I had in all human probability now existed about half the period which I am to remain in this Sublunary world. I reflected that I had as yet done but little, very little, indeed, to further the happiness of the human race, or to advance the information of the succeeding generation. I viewed with regret the many hours I have spent in indolence, and now soarly feel the want of that information which those hours would have given me had they been judiciously expended. but since they are past and cannot be recalled, I dash from me the gloomy thought, and resolved in future, to redouble my exertions and at least endeavour to promote those two primary objects of human existence, by giving them the aid of that portion of talents which nature and fortune have bestowed on me: or in future, to live for mankind, as I have heretofore lived for myself."

Back on the trail toward home!

The sky starts to look like a Georgia O'Keefe painting (even through the bug-splattered windshield).

Still heading south, through a corner of Idaho, we trade mountains for potato fields. And then we enter Wyoming -- there's no place like it...

...and find our Green River, Wyo., motel for the night just behind a gorgeous rock formation (http://hamptoninn.hilton.com/en/hp/hotels/index.jhtml?ctyhocn=GRVWYHX)...

Two more days on the road -- a night with Alex's cousin Kathy in Golden, Co., and a night in KCMO -- and we'll be home, on the 4th of July!


I must add one more little Hamilton adventure.  On our last night in town, we get tickets to a BBQ and street dance in front of the Ravalli County Museum (see the little cardboard-backed tickets, below.)

We're packing, so we miss the rodeo induction ceremony but arrive just in time for food and a small, sweet street dance -- a mix of young families and gray-haired dancers gliding across the concrete, often with the littlest kids emulating the smooth moves of the older folks, as day turns to dusk.

Folks also take time to chat with neighbors...

...or just sit and watch the complicated steps out on the street.

So long, Hamilton!! Maybe we'll see you cowboys, and girls, again, soon. (Oh, and the house in Hamilton? Alex gave the broker an earnest-money check to hold onto, in case we were to decide to make a serious offer?!; meanwhile, other potential buyers viewed the house the day that we left; and he hasn't heard a word back. Me? I'm just watching the process. Since it's his money at this point, I'm calling it free, live entertainment!?!).