Distinctly Montana Magazine

D I S T I N C T L Y M O N T A N A M A G A Z I N E • F A L L 2 0 2 1 100 Dear Aunt Mara, Just writing to let you know we're settling into "the old homestead"—not exactly cozy, but it's ours. The soil out here gives the atmosphere a yellow glow, which takes a while to get used to. It's a far cry from the blue skies of home, but the sense of spaciousness is similar. (As if you couldn't tell from the photo, which contains exactly nothing except us.) Yeah, I realize my branch of the family never traveled farther west than Nebraska, but our how-many- great-greats-grandfather Charlie pushed on and now you're the lucky one with the mountain views. After this picture was taken, we started putting in our wheat. Do you remember the Perseverance Rover, the one that carried the little helicopter? Long time ago, February 2021, the year nobody went anywhere—except Mars, ap- parently. The rocks and dust it collected led to soil improve- ment techniques, so we can grow crops. I had to check on that helicopter's name; sometimes the solarnet is kind of slow. I was thinking Intrepid, Intelligent? It's Ingenuity Mars Helicopter. Love those Rover names: Sojourner, Op- portunity, Spirit, Curiosity, and the rest. Same old traits that keep us all exploring. You might wonder how we breathe up here. Well, that blank beige sky is a shield protecting an artificial atmo- sphere. It provides oxygen and also rain. No drought, no tornadoes, no blizzards, and no grasshoppers, thank goodness. None of that "if you don't like the weather, wait five minutes" nonsense. Nice to have the predictability, but I miss the sunsets back home. The sky covering you with a blanket of orange and pink that mutes to purple and finally black. And the smells. The way the country air unfurls, carrying that sweet hay scent into town. (Listen to me, the cowpoke poet—ha!) Speaking of cowpokes, we look kind of old-fashioned in this picture, like those color photos of great-great-grandma Ellen: overalls, mid-length prairie skirts with boots, sus- penders. Thorn and the kids decided on this look (well, little Mim didn't have much say in it) to celebrate the sesquicen- tennial of Earth Day, which was in April 1970 in case you forgot your history. We kind of fudge the calendar here on Mars. I've lost track of what month it is for you. One bit of unhappy news: we lost the kids' Teacher. Very sad, because that Educator knew everything, but it started acting unstable and the council had to decommission it. We all should have realized it was nearing its expiration date. The council is looking to buy a refurbished Teacher and we hope to have the kids back in school after vacation. Other than that, we're all doing fine, including the dogs. Lou's the same old Lou, albeit reduced to chasing invisible rabbits. Little black-and-white Foxy is lying behind Lou in the picture; she herds the kids because we don't have farm animals. Eggs come from a factory, same with meat, cheese is but a dream. Clothes are all synthetic, although we're considering cloning a sheep or two for wool. I still knit for pleasure and Idie is fascinated by the crochet work handed down from the old ladies. She says the doilies look like frac- tals. That girl and her math brain. Okay, I better keep this short, otherwise I'll get teary-eyed thinking of brilliant sunsets, Cheddar cheese, and doilies. Pioneers gotta pioneer, after all. Now it's your turn to send a snapshot. Mountains would be nice! Love and hugs to you and the family, Your niece, Ril D I S T I NC T LY M O N T A N A M O N T A N A M E M O R Y P R O J E C T F LY F I S H E R M A N C O N S E R VAT I O N I S T First Place A D U L T by JANE LIMPRECHT Leer Home

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