Getting tired at Animal Kingdom, and walking around Downtown Disney.

I’m sure all scrapbookers feel this at one time or another – There are so many pictures you’ll never catch up. When my grandmother died we uncovered boxes of prints, manilla envelopes with no date stuffed full, and even random photos stuck between unfinished scrapbook pages. I sorted through the pictures that were of me and my family and took them home with me to organize. I guessed my age, since the photos weren’t dated, and did my best to put them in chronological order. They may never see a scrapbook page, but seeing them sorted into boxes was comforting.

But these photos are all prints… And so I’ve started the [large] project of scanning these photos. This has been something I’ve worried about for years; losing hard copies of old pictures. Like my parents wedding photos, my brothers baby pictures, and Sturgis ’93.

Both Cheeto and I were very excited when the scanner arrived

So we set up a little station in the craft room

And started with the first print I saw

I won’t even count how many more there are to go….

Starting 4 years ago our forevers go together!

In an unusual turn for the GaterBait family we have not traveled for work together in 2015. That will change this week, while we make our annual trip to California.

Too bad we can’t drive- it’d add a nice line across the US for my road map that hangs in the craft room.

I saw this pin today and thought I’d make a 2015 ‘goal’ sheet. I agree that I like the idea of goals much better than having a resolution.

Happy New Years!

I realized I haven’t written much about what J and I have been doing since June. I think I can sum up much of what we’ve done in one word… relaxed. Maybe it doesn’t seem like it since we’ve still been traveling around working, but overall, we’ve done a lot of relaxing.

In July we spent a week in North Carolina, and although it was for work, it was laid back and we ended up at the beach one day. In August we went to Arkansas for vacation, and it’s one of the most relaxing trips I can remember ever having. We rode bikes, did some antique shopping, and grilled out at our cabin. September I went to Washington and… did more relaxing!

In those three months we’ve had some visitors; a friend from New York and my family. Both times we didn’t rush around to do anything, just enjoyed the company and relaxed.

I guess it doesn’t sound very exciting, but J and I are feeling pretty peaceful right now, and we’ll continue to enjoy it because I’m sure soon we’ll get thrown back into something frantic.

“Who got me started” in shooting can really be divided between two people: my best friend, and my dad.

When I was 8 years old Liz and I were inseparable. We were in the same class, played on the same softball team, and spent a lot of time walking places with our arms linked. So when her older brother joined a 4-H shooting club and her dad made her go along, I willingly joined so she wouldn’t have to be the only girl. We started out in a storage shed that had no A/C and limited heat during the Nebraska winters. I also started with minimal coaching, so no one realized I was left eye dominant (because I wrote right handed) and I spent a year seeing two targets and guessing which one to shoot at. I was terrible, always missing the target, but for some reason I loved it.

Which is where I have to give my dad most of the credit. Liz might have dragged me to the actual building, but my dad made me love shooting. He was, and always has been, the pivotal person in my shooting career that made overcoming a challenge something I wanted to do. He took the initiative to take coaching classes and helped me learn to shoot left handed. Together we learned all the basics and later the advanced aspects of rifle shooting. Practice was a chance for him and me to sit down together in our own bubble and work out a problem (mostly shooting, but sometimes not). I got better, won some matches, and for the next 10 years my dad and I worked towards goals that later got me a college scholarship.

Two weekends in a row J has twisted my arm to go to the range with him. 😉

Last week we competed in a steel challenge match. It’s a match fired with both .22 rifle and .22 pistol at steel plates. There were 5 different stages that we had to shoot, and each stage we got to try 5 times. It’s a speed event, so our 4 fastest times at each stage were added up to make our “score”. It’s the second time we’ve competed in a match like this, so placing around 5th place felt pretty good. In October we’ll also be competing in another steel challenge in Arkansas for a work-related venture. This match was mostly practice for us so we don’t embarrass ourselves in Arkansas.

This weekend we’re getting back to our roots with some good ol’ smallbore prone. My rifle has recently undergone some surgery:

BEFORE

EXTRA PARTS?!

AFTER

It’s now a little shorty rifle for my short arms! Who knew when I got this gun at 14 I wasn’t going to get any taller. I’m excited to try this shortened stock and see how it feels. Although, after about 30 minutes of getting everything set up I already have prone injuries; sore elbows, sore right hip, sore right wrist and my teeth might be coming loose. Between ‘prone pain’ and the heat being close to 100 this weekend, we’ll see how excited I am after the first stage!

I have always had recurring dreams. Ever since I was a little girl.

Even in my sleep I am obsessive.

The first recurring dream I had begins with me at a fair. There are big colorful tents billowing through the air above me. I’m walking along a dirt path, looking up to see people strolling by with cotton candy and circus men with dark mustaches waving their hands to attract attention. Everything is a swirl of light and color. I’m smiling, and peaceful, because for some reason I know I’m meant to be at this fair.

Then I see the carousel- my favorite part. I must have been walking towards it the entire time; huge magnificent horses rotating past me. I love this carousel. There are white horses with delicate flowers braided in their hair, black horses with stark white teeth and powerful red reins, and even though they slightly scare me, they are all so beautiful to me. I know I must get closer. I get ready to set up onto the stilled platform, reaching up to touch the vibrant colored horses, when I wake up.

Everytime.

I wake up right before I could get on. I’m frustrated. I attempt to re-close my eyes, relax back into that peace, and picture myself taking a giant step up to the platform of the carousel. But my dream kept going, and I’d re-enter my stage of sleep after I’d existed the carousel. I’d already be at the next exhibit- that had something to do with a big orange cat.

I never got to ride the carousel. I always woke up too early, and fell back asleep too late. I didn’t get to experience what it was like to calm my nerves and climb aboard the scary and beautiful horses. The next time I’d marvel at it across the dirt path, sometimes knowing, even in my sleep, I’d never make it in time.