What To Say? How About More Meme Questions?

It's 5:30 am and I'm in a time crunch. Yeah ... I know that's a bit ridiculous. How can I be in a time crunch when it isn't even 6:00 am yet, and when I usually don't leave for work until at least 7:00 am? Well, after what seemed like a billion emails in my in-box this morning, I'm brain dead already. The morning has just started and I'm brain dead. This doesn't bode well for my day. But it does open the door to another bout with the 366-Day-Meme. So, I'm going to grab another 10 from January - walking slowly through the multitude = LOL. 

I grew up in the days of rotary phones similar to this one. When
digital phones and cell phones became available, and when
our cell phones became computers in their own rights, I was
hooked. I love my cellphone - can't imagine life without it. 

11 Have you ever been asked for your telephone number and you didn't want to give it? What did you do?

My usual on this one is to give a really old number, or just invent something - after all, how hard can spinning seven (or ten) numbers really be? I've had a lot of phone numbers in my life before finally settling on a great cell phone number which I've kept for more than a decade. 


12 Have you ever had a “crush” on a fictional character?

Of course. Although not a "romantic" crush as much as an "I need this person in my life" crush. Gandalf - of course - because he was the father I always wanted, the friend I never realized I had missed, and the companion with a quirky sense of humor that I realized I needed. 




13 What are your favorite pizza toppings?

Cheese - lots of cheese, and I love the standards - pepperoni, Italian sausage and lots of peppers of all kinds. I also love olives. In some cases, I'll also go with the pineapple and ham version of pizza, but just if I'm ordering a personal pizza for myself since that flavor combo isn't shared by my significant other. 


14 Who was your very first best friend? Are you still in contact or communication with them?

My very first very best friend was actually my cousin - Missy. We grew up across the street from each other. Our mothers were "Sisters From Different Mothers" the way good friends can be, and we were practically joined at the hip from the time we were babies. She moved back to Colorado a few years ago. If I ever get back to the state for a visit, I'll absolutely be visiting her and her horses while I'm there. And yes, we're absolutely still in touch with each other. 

How could anyone not want a Gandalf in
their lives. Sage, if obscure advice, a sharp
sword when needed, and a wicked sense of
humor. Drop the pipe smoking, and you've
got a perfect companion. 

15 If you could pick a new first name, what would you choose?

I always wanted the slightly fancier version of my name - Alexandra instead of Sandra. Still, I'm grateful for my mother's common sense in my name - Dad's choice of name was abandoned when I entered Middle School, never to appear again. No - I won't tell you what it was. 

16 What is your favorite board game?

I despise board games, but if I had to play one, it would probably be "Monopoly". I really don't do games, unless they're on-line ones. 

This ancient photo is my cousin Missy, her older brother
David, and me. I'm quite sure I wasn't much older than
six years old at this point, which would make David
seven or so, and Missy five. 

17 What self-care things do you find helpful to ground yourself or “talk yourself down from the ledge” when you’re overwhelmed by your feelings or by stress?

I'm always semi-overwhelmed by stress, but music and my computer (and e-books - always e-books) are lifelines for me. My on-line friends have lived through depressive episodes with me before, but I usually bounce back relatively quickly - sometimes with new cracks in my armor, but also new plates and rivets to re-enter the battlefield. 


18 What is the most extreme weather you have ever experienced?

I remember a torrential rainstorm that hit Denver when I was a child. Dad and I were at the local library and when we left, we were driving through streets that were roaring rivers. I was terrified. 

I am a trained Pipe Carrier for the Lakota Oyate and I do take
that responsibility seriously. I worked underneath the tutelage
of my brother for more than a decade. Once the responsibility
is accepted, it cannot be set aside. 

19 Do you operate out of any particular faith system that informs your actions? Do you intentionally NOT have a faith system, and if so, what beliefs or ideas inform your actions?

My faith system is very much an individual thing, honed through years of fine-tuning and teachings from Spiritual Leaders of various faiths. I suppose, if I entitle it, it would be more Native American Red Road than anything else, but it's tempered with so much else that it doesn't walk that straight Red Road at all. I can still do what's needed in Circle, though, and I'm still a Pipe Carrier - I won't abrogate that responsibility. 


20 When you go to a fancy coffee shop, what’s your go-to order?

I'm afraid I'm rather boring - my favorite is a Cafe Americano with one or two packs of artificial sweetener. I like the fancier drinks, but I think the prices are ridiculous, and I'd rather spend the money on more books. So, I drink tea at home, brewed coffee at restaurants, and spend the fancy coffee money on reading materials. 


So - there we have it - the next 20 prompts for January. There are LOTS of prompts left in the 366, so another day, another set. In the meantime, have a wonderful and happy Tuesday and I'll be back tomorrow. 

The Final Goodbye - Wrapping It Up

Yesterday, my brother's body had been wrapped in a black quilt which was then covered with the Oglala Lakota tribal flag - a duplicate of the one fastened above the tipi doorway at the Memorial. We were running more than two hours late - right on time for "Indian Time". Solo was worried about the condition of the roads out to the cemetery - the heavy rains from the night before when Floyd had been dancing in the skies above us might have caused some serious ruts and mud baths on our way to the land. He decided he would park at the house and he and Maya would hike in from the backside. I just nodded. I had no idea and would just follow the cars. 

"At least it's not all the way to Kyle, like it was for Grandma," I mentioned in an aside to my sister. The drive to get out to Kyle for Grandma Zona's burial eighteen years ago had taken the better part of an hour and the chain of cars had stretched far back on the road as the first of us stood atop the cemetery hill. The White Cow Killer Family Cemetery was close to where Floyd lived, on Red Cloud Land. I had never been there before - I missed my brother Erby's funeral several years earlier. 

The Oglala Lakota Tribal Flag is a nine-pointed star on
a field of red. 

The drum led the procession. Although pow-wow drums are usually stationary, they do have handles and can be carried in occasions such as this. The drummers remained in a circle around the drum and were playing and singing as they led the procession up the center aisle from the tipi, then across the back and back down the northern aisle to the back entrance ramp where the hearse was waiting, The body followed on a wheeled gurney, and following after that were the remaining pallbearers, each one carrying something from the tipi - a small suitcase, a carefully rolled eagle feather headdress, and other ceremonial items. After they had passed, the immediate family joined the procession. Eventually the remainder of us left, but we left through the main doors, not the loading dock. 

I just decided to follow the cars since I didn't know exactly where the cemetery was. We ended up back on the road I had taken earlier that morning as I visited my sister Starlet in her home a short way west from Floyd's double-wide trailer. We passed the road to get down to Floyd's home, and continued down a rutted, but dry (thankfully) road, turning into what looked like a field with a broken-down trailer at the end. Cars and trucks were parking, so I joined the rest, parked my van and, pulling on some leggings and tying a scarf around my head, I left the car, locking it (of course). 

Several small boys were looking at this unexpected crowd on "their home" land - squatters who were living in the broken-down trailer. There wasn't any power to it, and several of the windows had been replaced by pieces of plywood. All I could think about was how cold it would be in there in the upcoming winter. (Later I heard two of the men talking about how there was no electricity in the trailer. I had a feeling they might be hanging a feeder cord from the electric pole at the road to at least offer some power to the derelict trailer.) The boys exited the trailer and escorted me the short distance to the cemetery, saying "Welcome to my home." 

At the cemetery was a deep hole, a pile of dirt, and a bright yellow vault. A large flatbed truck with a winch system was parked to the side, a canopy was erected at the graveside for the comfort of the immediate family (I don't think we had one of those at Grandma's funeral - it would have been nice since we were in the rain for that one). The bundled body was placed on top of the vault, long straps under it. There were more prayers and a 21-gun salute, and finally it was time to bring things to an end. 

Taking the straps in hand, the plywood was removed from beneath my brother's body and he was lowered into the vault, still resting atop buffalo furs and wrapped in the quilt and flag. (A US flag had been placed over his body graveside, which was folded up by two veteran pallbearers and given to his family.) The various bundles, suitcases, and other miscellaneous items that had been in the tipi were also added to the vault. In older days, they would have been arranged around the body on a scaffold. Now these ceremonial items and sacred items were to be interred with him.  

Once the body and items were in the vault and the straps were pulled free, the flatbed truck came with the vault lid - black and yellow, like his colors. It was perfect! The lid was lowered and locked into place, then, accompanied by songs and the everpresent drum, the entire black and yellow structure was lifted and slowly lowered into the deep hole. After the chains were removed and the flat bed moved from graveside, a group of close people were invited to throw dirt onto the grave. Barry kept it to 20-30 people before cutting it off and handing shovels to the pallbearers and later to other men who began filling the grave. A haunting voice came from the other side of the burial pit - a single woman, singing a ceremonial song. It wasn't planned, but it was stunning - a wonderful tribute to this man who had given the tribe everything he had. 

After the grave was completely filled, it was covered with the flowers that had been at the Memorial Service. My brother was laid to rest next to his younger brother in the family cemetery on the land of his forefathers and his people. It was fitting. 

We all left and returned to the gymnasium for the final feast and give-away. We were all fed soup and a variety of foods, ending with several huge sheet cakes, and everything that had been presented to the family - all of the star quilts and Pendleton blankets, etc - as well as numerous quilts and blankets that had been made or purchased by the family for this occasion, were given to people who had meant something to my brother, who had helped him or the family in some way. Probably more than fifty people were honored in this way. For Grandma's giveaway, I ended up with two star quilts and a Pendleton blanket - all of which I still use today. I didn't get anything this time, but I wasn't expecting anything either. 

Eventually I left, and Maja, Solo and I drove back to the hotel where I grabbed some really needed fun time with their new puppy, Diego. Some normalcy to bookend my day. I was leaving VERY early in the morning, so called it a night and went to sleep feeling fulfilled. I had done the right thing. I had seen my brother one last time and let him know that I loved him, that I regretted nothing of our time together, and that I wished him only the best on his continued journey. Maybe one day I'll meet him again. Maybe not. Either way, I'll probably know within twenty years or so. Mitakuye oyasin. 

The Final Good-bye - One of Two

Continuing from yesterday's post, Maja, Solo and I had moved from the bleachers to a row of chairs on the gymnasium main floor. The "schedule", as printed in the memorial handouts available for anyone to take, said the Funeral Service was scheduled for 10:00 am on Saturday, then gave a list of people who would be involved (a very LONG list of Pallbearers and Honorary Pallbearers). It ended with the notice that the Burial Service would be at the White Cow Killer Family Cemetery on Red Cloud land. 

Barry actually got things going relatively on time, with honoring songs and various sacred songs being played by the drum, interspersed with talks, prayers, and the actual visitation. The pallbearers were all gathered in a far corner to receive pins which were placed on the upper left arms of their jackets. They also got their final instructions about how to line up and who would be responsible for what. 

Friday night had featured a roll call of Veterans, honoring the veterans who were at the memorial, as well as my brother's service in the late 1950's, early 1960's. Today, instead of Veterans, there was a call-out of American Indian Movement members to honor their service to the people as well as my brother's long-time work for the cause. Solo was a bit miffed that he hadn't gotten his name down on the Veterans list, but he was proud to be called to join the line of AIM warriors, both male and female. 

Scotty Brown Eyes and a spiritual leader whose name I don't know entered the tipi to say final prayers over my brother. They painted his face in his chosen design featuring stripes down the left side of his face, dots down the right side. Eagle feather fans wafted sage and prayers over his body. Things were rearranged in the tipi for the final viewing.  

The pallbearers were requested to come to the front, where they stood as an honor guard while the final visitation was announced and a long line formed which snaked around the gymnasium. It was time for each of us to say our final goodbyes. After exiting the tipi from my own personal short good-bye, I moved down the row of Veterans, shaking the hand of each warrior, then continued on to the entire front row - the family members. Each hand was shaken, many hugs were given and many tears were shed. 

Throughout the several hours that the final visits and preparations took, the Pallbearers stood at the front, one warrior dancing without stopping. The audience also stood, dancing if possible. Maja and I stayed together and danced for the entire three hours or so it took for everyone to have their final viewing and we weren't the only ones who danced for the full time. 

The drum group never stopped singing their songs, one song melding into the next, and the sound of the drum echoed throughout the gymnasium. It reminded me how much I really enjoy the Lakota songs I had heard for so many years. I might have to try to make a Spotify playlist of pow wow songs. The drum worked so hard, I'd be surprised if they had any voice at all on Sunday as they returned to their homes. 

Finally, the family members were called up in small groups to say their final goodbyes. After everyone had their final visit, select people re-entered the tipi and began preparing the body. All regalia and sacred items used by my brother and on display in the tipi were removed and packed into several small suitcases, or wrapped carefully. The body was then wrapped in a black quilt and covered with an Oglala Nation flag. It was moved from the platform in the tipi to a gurney, in preparation for the final walk from the tipi to the waiting hearse. This was different than Grandmother's funeral had been. She had been laid in a casket with a rosary in her hands. My brother walked a traditional road - no casket. In the old days he would have been placed on a scaffold to become one with the world once again. No scaffolds allowed these days, though. 

And here I go - running over once again. I guess I'll actually end up finishing this recitation tomorrow. Oh well. It's just a lot to discuss, and I want to get my impressions and feelings down because I feel it's important, and it's my personal memorial to my brother. It's respectful to my brother, and healing for me. I'll be back tomorrow with, what will probably be the final installment in my recitation of my return to Pine Ridge, South Dakota. Have a great Thursday. 

Saturday - All My Relations Gathering

As Saturday dawned, I grabbed a quick, hearty breakfast at the cafe next door to my hotel, and hit the road. I wanted to be at the gymnasium as soon as possible in the morning to allow myself some quiet time before the rituals resumed. 

For memorial services of this magnitude, the gym is open 24-7 for the entire three days. There is always at least one family member in the front row of chairs, to allow people to express their condolences and pass along a gift of a Pendleton blanket, star quilt or just some cash in a card to help the family offset their expenses. All gifts, no matter how large or small, are appreciated. Blankets and quilts were already hanging from ropes strung on both sides of the tipi up to the basketball hoops at the sides of the gym. It was colorful and beautiful. They would all be given away by the family before the end of the day.  

I drove in to the Reservation around 8:00 am, and my car decided it should go to the right at the fork in the road, instead of the left. That brought me back to familiar grounds - family land and my Grandmother's old house, still looking pretty decent. A ramp had been added to the eastern side, heading back to the kitchen door, but the front looked the same as the last time I saw it in 2001. Parking after pushing through the usual rutted mud puddle of the previous night's rain, I walked up the ramp and knocked on the door. It was answered by a woman I didn't know, but when I asked for Starlet, she ushered me in and called out for my sister. 

The Wind River Reservation is home to the Northern Arapaho and
the Eastern Shoshone tribes, in the Central Western part of Wyoming,
west of Casper. Just to the Northwest of the reservation is the Eastern
border of Yellowstone National Park. 

As Starlet got up from her bed in the back bedroom, a chair was cleared for me and I had a chance to meet new relatives - Auntie Diane and her daughter and grandchildren who had come over from Wyoming - Wind River Arapaho. I remembered Grandma mentioning them a long time ago, but had never had the chance to meet them before. As I introduced myself, Starlet came down the short hallway and I had to jump up and give her a big hug (and get one in return, because she gives the BEST hugs). 

I didn't stay long, 15-20 minutes or so. I knew I would see them again at the memorial, but I had wanted to see my sister Starlet. I hadn't seen her since I sat next to her in the family row at Grandmother's memorial, although we always exchange holiday cards. She had retired from her job almost a year ago and told me she was enjoying retirement. She and I talked to Auntie Diane about when I would come up from the Cities and I would sit with Grandma Zona and Cousin Ben and we would all bead together. We looked at family photos on the wall and shared memories - good ones. After getting another hug, I shook hands with everyone and left for the gymnasium. 

Tipis are a traditional Sioux home - very portable, easy to
set up, warm in the winter, but cool in the summer. My brother's
tipi was painted with the handprints of many people all
around up as far as I could reach. All of the people who he
had helped over the years at Ceremony or in life. 

It was still early when I parked at the school. There were only 20-30 people scattered in the gym, and Lisa had been given the overnight family member duty. I had lots of time to look over the photos and storyboards of my brother, as well as enter the tipi to view his body and talk to him for a bit. It hurt, seeing him there, dressed in his ceremonial buckskins on a bed of buffalo hides with his dance regalia on tipi stands behind him. We had a difficult relationship, but I loved him and he loved me. That I never doubted, despite the problems over the years. I had learned a tremendous amount from him over the years and my life would have been radically different if I had never met my brother. 

I exited the tipi, finished looking at the photographs and memories, shook Lisa's hand and gave her a hug. We shared the experience of being the overnight person, since I had done that for Grandma Zona while Starlet and Pete returned home to get some some sleep. It's a hard thing to do - that overnight family vigil. After a short chat, I went in back for a cup of coffee and seated myself on the bleachers once again, this time on the opposite side of the gym. A man sat down on my right - the same person who had been at me left the night before - David Snowball. We started talking about Floyd and about where he was living, in southern Wisconsin. It was really lovely to talk with him a bit, get a bit of his life story. 

After my sister Maja and her companion Solo arrived a while later, I moved over to a folding chair on the main floor. It was almost time to get things going once more and we knew we wanted a bit of room to move. 

Well, it looks like this will be a four-day recitation after all. It's OK. I'm getting a chance to put things down in writing to share with all of you, and I'm also getting the opportunity to shed a few more tears which is not a bad thing either. Tomorrow's post should bring me through the ceremonies and the actual burial, at least that's the goal. Have a great Wednesday and I'll be back tomorrow. 

Floyd's Memorial - Friday Night

After checking in to my hotel room and pulling on a long skirt, I jumped back into my personal buffalo and headed to Pine Ridge, South Dakota. I didn't have a plan, just thought I'd meet up with Maja and Solo if they were still there. Where is there? There, in this case, was the Middle School Gymnasium. It was a bit smaller than the High School Gymnasium, where Grandma had her memorial service in 2001, but it was in the same educational complex. Despite not having been in the Rez since Grandma Zona passed, I still remembered the roads to take and drove up without problems, parking and entering the building. 

Inside, my Lekshi, Scotty Brown Eyes, was at the microphone. Tradition dictates a series of invited speakers, and then an open mike all night so that whoever wants to share a memory or anecdote can get up and share with the Oyate (the People). During busier times of the day, there is usually a loose agenda. Scotty was acting as ringleader this time, introducing David Snowball from Southern Wisconsin, to speak and share his memories of my brother, Floyd. 

Late in his talk I noticed a tall, lanky Lakota man come in, a bundle cradled in his arm. He walked to the front row, taking a corner seat and shaking a few hands as he entered. He was Arvol Looking Horse, spiritual leader of the Lakota People and caretaker of the Sacred White Buffalo Calf bundle. After David was finished, Scotty introduced Arvol who shook out his double-layered eagle feather headdress, and after casually putting it on, walked to the front and began speaking. 

Chief Arvol Looking Horse, spiritual leader of the Lakota People and
caretaker of the Sacred White Buffalo Calf bundle came and spoke
at Floyd's memorial on Friday night. Arvol and I have crossed paths
many times over the past thirty+ years I've been involved with the
Lakota people. It's always an honor to meet him again. 

Arvol spoke for more than a half-hour in a combination of Lakota and English. He spoke about many things, but primarily about Floyd's work with the Treaty Council. The Sioux have been fighting to get their treaty rights for more than a century now. The people have never cashed in the money "paid" to them for the Black Hills because they never accepted that this foreign government had rights to "purchase" the land. According to the Treaty, large portions of North and South Dakota as well as some parts of Nebraska and Wyoming were Indian Land forever. Of course, that was before gold was found in the Black Hills, after which time the treaty became another piece of toilet paper - worthless. 

Chief Arvol Looking Horse wore his headdress when he addressed
the people at Floyd's memorial. It was to honor Floyd as a leader
of the people and one who dedicated his life to them. 

Arvol spoke about Floyd's work with the Treaty Council, as well as his work with the people as a spiritual leader and guide for the people. He spoke about the long history he shared with Floyd and the people of Pine Ridge, and led the people in a prayer at the end. After I resumed my seat on the lowest rise of the Western bleacher, near David Snowball, Arvol removed and rewrapped his headdress and walked down our side, shaking hands with the drummers and then with several men and, finally, with me, before leaving the gymnasium. It was an honor to see him again and to shake his hand. 

Shortly afterward I decided it would be wise to return to Chadron and get some sleep. My brother would be buried the next day and I knew it would be a hard and long day. I left, reversing my drive from earlier in the day. Almost as soon as I had passed the Reservation border, it started to rain. The rain turned heavier as I continued my one-hour drive, but it was the lightning that was so amazing. It was constant, and it lit up the skies all around me. Great forks of lightning, and light behind cloudbanks brightening whole sections of the sky. I knew my brother was dancing, celebrating being joined once more with his friends and relations. He was dancing his last dance in the sky and it was remarkable to see. The storm accompanied me almost all the way to the hotel, passing to my rear as I drove the final twenty miles or so. It was magic. 

The entire sky was as bright as day, on and off as I drove home. It was
like a cloud press conference with flash bulbs constantly going off.
It was amazing, and I just knew that Floyd was dancing with his
relations in the skies above me. It must have been a good drum, because
he was dancing hard in his yellow and black Champion Dancer outfit,
celebrating his life. 

I'll continue tomorrow, and the Saturday may end up taking two days of posts. Hard to say for sure. I'll put in what photos I can, but I didn't take photos of this trip - it would have been disrespectful, and I've been taught better than that. So, I'll put in what I can, but I will have to hope that my words will be enough picture for you, my readers. Have a wonderful Tuesday and be good to each other. I'll be back tomorrow. 

My Trip - Arriving in South Dakota

I'm back home, and I'm glad I went, even though I'll be paying off the bills for months and I missed my speech at the UMBS 20th Anniversary Luncheon. It's OK. It was worth it. 

On the way from Rapid City to Chadron, I passed Buffalo Gap
National Grasslands. Much of this area of South Dakota is
grasslands, but Buffalo Gap is one of two places I could have
turned east and passed through to get to Pine Ridge. I continued
on my highway, though. I was heading to Chadron, NE first. 

I had forgotten how beautiful South Dakota was in the late summer/early fall. It helped that we had wonderful weather, as you'll see while reading the rest of my trip over the next day or two. 

I was WAY early for my plane out because I had DH drop me off before work, but I was happy I wasn't in a rush. The TSA lines for security were long and even though they moved along at a good clip, it was still an hour in line to get cleared. Ick, but job well done. The agents were efficient and polite, but firm. MSP is an International Airport, so lots of people pass through it every day. It's not a sleepy regional airport like Rapid City's. The way back home yesterday was quite different - two people ahead of me in line and an easy and quick pass through security. 

My gate for my puddle-hopper was WAAAAY at the far end of the terminal, so I used the moving walkways to their full benefit. Later I discovered there was a tram available to take for free, but by then I was committed to the walk. I knew I had a long drive ahead when I arrived in South Dakota, so figured some exercise wouldn't be a bad thing. My sister Maja joined me at the airline gate after a couple of hours and we had a chance to catch up a bit - something sorely lacking since she moved out to Washington state. 

We weren't seated together for the flight, but that was OK. I read and looked out the window at the scenery. I enjoy flying, just am not fond of being stuck inside a tin can with a bunch of strangers. Still, as puddle-hopper planes go, it was OK. Various maintenance and need/necessity, had delayed our flight by almost two hours, so it was great to get into the air. 

As you can tell, this is not a "compact" car. This is a 2019 Toyota
Sienna, and it's what I drove on this trip. Since they charged me
what a compact would have cost, I was OK with it. That higher
ground clearance actually turned into a good thing. 

After renting our respective cars, we went out to the parking lot to discover that our two requested "compact" cars had morphed into large caravans. I had a 2019 Toyota Sienna, and I'm not sure exactly what Maja had, but they were both large beasts. The rental company was charging us the compact rate, so we shrugged our shoulders and headed out in large vans. It actually turned into a good thing on Saturday when I was driving out to the family cemetery and a bit earlier that day when I was driving to visit Starlet at her house. Roads in the Rez haven't improved, but I wasn't expecting that they would. 

Chadron NE is just south of that pink corner of Pine Ridge Reservation
in the lower left. To get to Pine Ridge, I drive east from Chadron,
then turn north, and pass through WhiteClay, Nebraska, passing
into Pine Ridge. WhiteClay used to be a town of four residents and
twelve liquor stores. The stores/bars are all all closed now - a victory
for the Oglala Sioux Tribe. 

Maja went straight to Pine Ridge to meet up with her companion, Solo, and get a hotel key from him. I decided to drive to Chadron, Nebraska first, check in, and then head over to Pine Ridge Village - an hour drive farther east and a bit north. Hotels for the Rez aren't close - Chadron or Rapid City are the choices, and either one is one hour or more away from Pine Ridge. But I loved the drive over - as I said in Paragraph One, I had forgotten how beautiful it is out there. I saw eagles - so many eagles, and buffalo, and pronghorn antelope. I also saw lots of cows - cows are a major cash crop out on the range. 

Out in the Great Plains, we have Golden Eagles. I saw
several floating nearby, as well as hawks playing in the
winds. The light was perfect late afternoon gold, and
the plains were fantastically open and beautiful. 

So ... so much to tell and I'm only on the road to check in to my hotel. I'll continue this tomorrow and bid all of you farewell for the day. I have to get back into my schedule and it's going to be a bit of a re-learning curve. Have a great Monday - I'll continue my saga tomorrow.