A Job Done Together Story and Photos by Desire´Aguirre When I pulled into the driveway in Laclede, my eighty-year-old mom, Rhoda Sanford, had her electric chainsaw in hand and already had made a significant dent in the pile of wood. … Continue reading →
Author Archives: Desiré Aguirre
About Desiré AguirreDesiré Aguirre lives in Sagle with an assortment of furry animals. Her favorite sport is riding her horse into the hills above her house. She is the editor of the Bereaved Parents of the USA’s Coeur d’Alene newsletter, and writes a health tips column for the Sandpoint Senior Center. She plays in the old- time string band, Ruff Shodd, and has a blog, “The Worst Day Club,” for bereaved parents at bereavedparents.blogspot.com.
A Goose Enlightened By Desiré Aguirre Photos by Jenny Lopresto The Canada goose that came to live on Herrmann Pond in Sagle for the last stage of his release into the wild was developmentally delayed. We don’t know exactly what … Continue reading →
The first time I read one of my own poems in front of a live audience, my cheeks burned bright red, my eyes filled with tears, and I thought I would need an oxygen tank to breathe.
Needless to say, the experience overwhelmed me, and for three years I refused to stand in front of a microphone. My daughter, DaNae Aguirre, and my mom, Rhoda Sanford, continued to inspire and encourage me. They had this show-woman thing down. They didn’t need oxygen tanks.
Eventually, I returned to college and majored in communications, where I was required to give numerous speeches in front of live audiences. Picturing them naked didn’t ease my unease, but I practiced hard, and the added incentive of making a good grade helped me stop crying every time I stepped in front of a crowd. Continue reading →
I grew up in the suburbs and dreamed of living in the country, where I would own a couple of horses, have a glorious garden, and a little house with a woodstove to keep me warm during snowy winters.
No surprise, I eventually ended up in Sagle, in a small house on five acres with two horses, a green garden, a snowy winter, and a woodstove.
Taking care of the place keeps me plenty busy. Horses require hay and, in my opinion, riding. The garden requires plenty of planting, weeding, watering, and harvesting, the snow requires plowing and shoveling, and the woodstove requires dry wood. Fortunately, I mastered the nuances of owning horses, tending a garden, and moving snow before I actually got to the woodstove. When I first arrived in Sandpoint, I couldn’t start a wood fire, much less cut, split, and stack the wood needed to feed it.
When I moved into my humble abode in Sagle, I had to learn all about burning wood because the only source of heat in the new place was the woodstove. Fortunately, the previous owners left me a pile of tamarack and red fir, ready to cut and split. My mom, already a master of wood heat, advised me to get an electric chainsaw, and made me promise to don gloves, safety glasses, long sleeves, jeans, and boots when I cut my firewood. Continue reading →
There’s something about the banjo that reaches out and grabs me. Bagpipes always make me cry, but the banjo slashes away all doom and gloom, dries teardrops, and paints a smile on my face.
The banjo, a simple, old-time instrument with a percussion head and a unique sound, forces my toes to tap and my laugh to erupt.
A newcomer to the art of performing music, I am blessed to have an assortment of role models that encourage, delight, and mentor my fledgling attempts. Scott Reid, a professional musician and Sandpoint icon, always treats me as if I were, well, a real musician. Best of all, his banjo playing inspires me to keep on practicing.
Scott performs with style and grace, breathing life into whatever instrument he has in hand, and layering it with smooth vocals that welcome and delight. His style weaves the genres of country, rock, and folk into a delicate tapestry. Scott can play “Stairway to Heaven” and Jimi Hendrix on the banjo, or perform old-timey frailing style, using the back of the nail on his middle finger as a pick, and mix that up with some Gypsy fiddle, heartfelt blues guitar, and songs he has written about robbing trains and Idaho winters. The banjo is his favorite instrument. “The banjo taught me everything I know about the guitar,” he told me. Continue reading →