Guns and Beer

There are two reasons to go to Idaho: for the guns and the beer.

Here is Roo with a gun:

And Dad Phillips with a gun:
And Annie with a gun:
This is not actually me. I never tie hankerchiefs around my neck. And I could never kill whatever varmit that is dangling from her grip. In fact, I don't even like guns. About a year ago, we had been living in Taylorsville long enough for Roo to realize that he ought to arm himself. Gradually he convinced me that we ought to own a gun, so I gave my hesitant consent. He bought a handgun. A black, serious looking thing. We, the gun and I, are leery of each other. I prefer it to stay locked in its tight safe. When Roo took me shooting the first time at an indoor shooting range, the pounding jerk of the bullet being thrust from the chamber was emotionally jarring for me, having seen too many war movies and read about too many mass graves. Roo fitted me with goggles and ear plugs and showed me how to handle the gun. But when I shot it, it wanted to jump out of my small grip, and I wanted to let it go. Since then, I have politely declined shooting it. The good thing about Idaho is that A) Dad Phillips is there with his gun and his willingness to go shooting with Roo, and B) there are lots of dirt piles and old milk jugs to shoot at. I'll take a shot or two, then sit back and watch. Guns scare me, just like they scare Lando, here, who found the most secluded place to hide and pant and wait it out:

So I guess I don't go to Idaho for the guns. But the beer...

Roo's parents live across the street from a small brewery. Once we had finished shooting our guns, we came back to find the whole street closed off and set up for Oktoberfest hosted by the brewery. Roo's parents thought the festivities looked like fun--and when I say festivities, I mean everything that didn't involve drinking beer, since we don't drink. Oktoberfest in Pocatello consists of country music, red plastic cups of beer, and hot dogs. So we non-drinkers spent the evening milling about listening to the country music and eating the hot dogs. I watched Natalee meticulously picking the blackened crust off her hot dog and muttering to herself, probably out of frustration and embarrassment at having to spend the evening at a drinking festival with her family.

So I guess I didn't really go to Idaho for the beer either...

But the one thing I know I did go for was the view:

This is the amazing dream home Roo's parents are building on the foothills in Inkom. The house is amazing, open and panoramic, full of what will one day be excellent nooks for reading and watching the sun go down across the valley.

While I played fetch with Lando in the family room, I looked out the window and wondered if we will ever build a dream home. I thought about what I would see from the windows of my own dream home.

I think this is the view I would choose:

Or this:

What about you? What is the view from your dream home?