Friends

“Acquiring a dog may be the only opportunity a human ever has to choose a relative.” Mordecai Wyatt Johnson

I come from a long line of people who love dogs.  We like cats too and have had a few as pets over the years, mostly as ranch cats who keep little critters away.  But dogs have been key companions for almost every member of my family for generations.  They have all been on my mind a lot lately for many reasons, and were the inspiration for our new Dirty Dog Soap.  We’ve had a special affection for herding breeds, but really any four-legged friend has been welcome.  Some have been shelter dogs, some have come from breeders, and one was even found as a puppy, abandoned, covered in mud and left in a parking lot in a cardboard box.  Her name was Molly.   Many of them have been working ranch dogs, a few have been city dogs (who love to visit the ranch), and one was a wild coyote dog who adopted the family all on her own.  See if you can figure out which one she is. 

One of my grandmas fed the ranch dogs pancakes and kibble every morning for most of her life and all of theirs.   When she was planning to be out of town on a trip, she would cook large quantities of pancakes and put them in the freezer to be doled out daily during her absence.   She wanted to make sure they were taken care of.    

We’ve loved them all…  

Sambo

Flicker

Don "The Wonder Dog"

Mischief

Robbie

Honey

Oh, how I wish I still had that belt.

Woodrow

He was named after a character from Lonesome Dove.

Chico

Gillie

Dexter & Molly

This was our holiday card picture one year before the kids were born.  We don’t usually dress up the dogs.  I don’t think Molly was very keen on her hat, but she did look pretty fancy.

Ruben

Sometimes special eye protection is necessary if we’re driving really fast though!

Lois

Zeeko

She was the happiest, sad-looking dog I’ve ever met.

Murdoch

His nickname is Barky McBarkypants.  He is a great protector of the homefront.

A happy lady and two puffballs: Mac & Missy

There are others that I don’t have photos of, but I wouldn’t want to overlook:  Lady, Skxx, Chief, Caesar, Tammy, Bo, Gypsy, Blanco, Shawn, Cody, Herman, Duke, Chloe, Ranger, Ringo & Daisy.  Most of them are are gone, but not forgotten.

This poem by Jimmy Stewart pretty much says it all.  Get a tissue.

Have dogs been important in your life?  What are their names?

4-H Ranch Camping 2011

Our 4-H club had another fabulous camping trip in Idaho this year.  The weather was perfect.  The kids all got along.  Nobody got hurt.  We tried some new things, as well as some old.  Here are a few highlights:

The swimming pond was a constant source of entertainment. 

We did a little fishing and a little catching...though all the fish we caught were released to live another day.

We cleaned some saddles and practiced sitting on them. 

We learned some basics about horses, horse safety, saddle parts, and how to ride.

We got to take a few spins around the ranch on Whisky and Brownie, our two faithful steeds.

We learned how to make, and then ate, some really good ice cream.  We made plain vanilla, but then had huckleberry and chokecherry preserves to drizzle over the top.

We tried orienteering for the first time.  The kids loved it.  They had to find nine locations on the ranch by using maps and compasses and race to see who could do it the fastest.  See the big finish?  Murdoch even got in on the action. 

More fun on the pond...

 Roasting marshmallow, of course.

This year's Pack: 10 tired and happy kids.

The Flying S

I’ve had folks ask me a number of different times about my company and blog logo and “What’s up with the little horns on the Ss?”  Those little horns are actually wings, and this is their story:

In the late 1930s, my grandparents became ranchers in Idaho.  The family had lived in several different places in the West and Midwest over two generations.  They had started out in Minnesota, homesteaded in Montana, and spent time running a livery stable in Zilla, Washington. 

My grandparents on their wedding day.

My grandfather John Engwald Sylte, who was the eldest of five sons, once traveled by train through northern Idaho during the tail end of the Dust Bowl years.  He was enticed by the surroundings where the lush green of the Selkirk Mountains met the open grassy space of the Rathdrum Prairie.   

My great grandparents and their five sons, with my grandfather in the middle.

He had been a soldier in the US Cavalry in Montana and loved horses and working with animals, in general.  He and my grandmother settled the family in Idaho and started the ranch that I later grew up on.

My grandfather (& buffalo) at Fort Meade, Montana.  

At that time, all ranches had a livestock brand.  It was a way of identifying which animals belonged to you, as well as a way to deter theft…or just make sure that your cows didn’t get mixed in with the neighbors’ if your fence went down in a storm.  They are a mark recorded by the state livestock agency.   

I would love to know exactly how my grandparents settled on our particular brand, since there were so many possible variations and combinations to choose from at the time.  Brands in many ways resemble hieroglyphics with (sometimes strange) combinations of letters, numbers and symbols that become more “readable” as you get used to them.  My grandparents had a shotgun rack in their front sitting room where they displayed all of the brands of friends and neighbors.  I remember sitting there on their smooth naugahyde davenport, staring at the marks and trying to decipher each of the symbols, with the smell of my grandmother’s chicken and dumpling soup hanging in the air.

What they came up with is called the “Flying S”.  Since the family name is Sylte, the S part is pretty obvious.  I think that adding the wings to the top of the S was a nice touch and seems appropriate, given my grandfather’s tendency to dream big and help foster a love of adventure and inventiveness in future generations. The risk-taking has mostly served us well, despite some noteworthy episodes worthy of Icarus.  For many years, the cattle on the ranch all carried the mark on their haunches, and it can still be found all around the ranch on gates, signs and other less predictable locations. 

I have now spent many years living away from the ranch.  Even though my business is not located in Idaho and has nothing at all to do with cattle or ranching, I carry the spirit and history of it all with me as I go about my life.  So there you go…they’re not horns, they’re wings.

4H Camping 2010

We had another GREAT 4H camping trip at the Ranch in Idaho this year! For three nights and fours days we camped on the grassy banks of the pond, and enjoyed the sunshine and fresh air. Here are a few of the activities that we filled our days with...

We got to ride around in "The Mule", which is basically a big, beefy, slow moving golf cart. At one point I think we had 14 people (12 kids and 2 adults) riding on it all at once. Mostly the kids ran around or rode their bikes anywhere they wanted to go, but the mule was a huge hit.

We fed the horses apples from the orchard. Everyone practiced holding the apples in the flat palm of their hands so that the horses didn't nibble fingers.

We visited the other livestock and the working buildings of the ranch...the barn, the feedlot, the quonset hut. We sat on the tractor too.

We made ice cream from scratch with an old crank ice cream churn. We theorized about why it's helpful to add rock salt to the ice when you're churning the ice cream. Do you know?

We enjoyed the pond endlessly. We swam, used the paddle boat, bounced on inner tubes and fed the fish.

We honed our fire building skills...without the use of newspaper. Only twigs and bark for starter!

We cooked yummy food for every meal, and shared in the clean-up chores.

We returned to Fish Creek to continue our stream restoration project. This year we planted fewer trees, but we enclosed them in wire cages to protect from the small furry creatures that apparently enjoyed munching on last year's trees. Hopefully when we return next year many more will be thriving.

We enjoyed my brother's wood-fire hot tub. You'd be amazed at how many kids can squeeze in!

It was a great visit. Everyone played hard, worked hard and slept hard. Can't wait for next year!!

Meet Your Maker

…soapmaker, that is.

It has been suggested to me, by people whose opinion I trust, that when someone makes a handcrafted product like I do, folks like to know a bit about the person who made it. I struggled for a while with the question of whether or not anyone actually wants to read about my personal history, or if I am secretly harboring a huge ego that can only be fed by a me, me, me entry. I finally decided to go ahead with this post since maybe my kids will be interested someday. We’ll see about that.

So, then…here’s a little bit about me, Anne.

I grew up in North Idaho. My earliest years were spent on a ranch set between the Selkrik Mountain range and the Rathdrum Prairie. I lived there with my parents, brother, and lots of extended family. My people are an eclectic mixture of Scandinavians with Celtic connections. I guess it’s just one big gene pool anyway…those Vikings did get around a lot.

The creative and care-taking occupations are well represented in my family. Pretty much everyone is a teacher, a preacher, a counselor or a musician. I spent my childhood playing on the ranch with my brother and cousins, making forts, tagging along after my parents and grandparents, and watching Gilligan’s Island and Hee Haw.

When I was eight, my parents parted and I began to divide my time between the ranch and my mother’s house in nearby Coeur d’Alene. My younger brother and I comfortably went back and forth between the ranch life with our livestock-raising father and the “city” life with our college professor mother & stepfather.

My parents’ separation was a catalyst for all sorts of independent activity for me…I became a better cook, a better seamstress, a better gardener…all because I had more responsibility and wasn’t just depending on them to take care of things for me. I became my brother’s chauffeur too. Yes, I got my driver’s license at the age of 14. Thanks Idaho farm-friendly driving laws!

I was a complete overachiever and teacher-pleaser in high school. I got good grades, took AP classes whenever possible, played several instruments, edited the school newspaper, was on the debate team, in Model United Nations, went to Girls State (in Pocatello!) and was class president my senior year. I listened to folk and alternative music, cut my hair in a spiral bob which normally covered half my face, and secretly spurned people with tans. I did not date. Nobody ever asked me out. Ever. I wore a red blazer in my high school yearbook picture. See...Sheesh.


I decided to go away to college in Minnesota because I had connections there (it is the Scandinavian Mecca of the U.S.) and because it was sort of far away. I attended Macalester College in St. Paul, a Presbyterian school with its own bagpipe band. I played in the band, studied History and Art History, and tutored immigrant kids in English as a Second Language. I also studied abroad in Scotland for my junior year at the University of Glasgow. It was here that I met my polar opposite (at least on paper), New Jersey-born husband. Funny story.

We dated from afar for our last year of college and then decided to make our next move together. We weren’t sure where to put down roots, just that we would put them down together. Seattle ended up being our destination because it was enough of an urban area for his taste, and enough of the Northwest for mine. Good choice.

Follow-Up...Me, part deux.

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