We're Not Easily Fooled

It felt like summer today, but we Coloradans are not easily fooled. Despite knowing that more snow could dump on us, Steve put the canopy up on our south-facing patio, and set up my fountain. We sat outside soaking up the heat and sun for quite a while today.  "A" fired up the grills and made Indian food for dinner. I watered our battered tulips and the irises that were half-frozen when the snows hit earlier this month. Of course the weather prediction is for some more snow mid-week. I hope it isn't enough to cause problems with the shade canopy. We always rush the season even though it's almost a law in Colorado to not expect the snow to end until Mother's Day. (Sunday, May 12th) I looked up the weather expectations at the NOAA website for the week. There's a 50% chance of showers on Tuesday, with a rain/snow mix overnight. Wednesday brings a 70% chance of snow, with a 30% chance of snow continuing that night. We still love getting that precipitation in any form except hail. And so it goes in Colorado.

Drove by Carter Lake this morning and watched a large herd of elk.

Not sure why some were wearing the stylish green collars.

The tulips aren't as impressive this year, but they are trying hard to recover.

An Almost Productive Day

It's around the 4 o'clock hour. I worked around the house this morning, finished making revisions on a short story (that is going to get sent out-come hell or high water), and had coffee with some fellow writers. Now I'm home and fighting off sleepiness. I can be so very tired in the afternoon, yet lay awake for hours in the middle of the night.

I came home from having coffee with a few more authors to add to my must read list. I will never be able to read every book that is on my wish list. I will someday die with the list unfinished, and I'll have to feel guilty about it since it's doubtful one can read in the afterlife.

There's a brief article by Leo Babauta in my email today. He writes a blog I enjoy reading. The title of today's post was "Why You Should Write Daily".  The trouble with advice geared toward helping procrastinating writers to write is that it's all obvious and it has all been said before. Many times. His piece is very well-written and everything he says is true, but the first point under "How to Write Daily" is" (1) Commit to writing daily. Good grief! Who hasn't thought of that one already?

The point is, sort of,  you will write daily when you decide to do it. No one can talk you into doing something that seems so optional, so arbitrary, unless you've already made up your mind to do it. It's a goal I reach for every day and I fail most days. Between blogging, journaling, letters, and fiction, I think I can say, technically, that I write every day. But what I want to write is fiction. I want to finish my book. I want to send out the short stories so I can feel like I've done this thing just for my own personal gratification. The entire process of writing, including being in writing groups and having coffee with like-minded people, is part of what makes me whole.

I'm not making dinner tonight. Not cooking is a huge time saver I wish I could be comfortable with. I weigh too much anyway so why not start having cereal for dinner? But I digress....

New writing space 

Portland, Oregon

The Day Unfolds at My Feet

My internet provider's server was down all day yesterday. Of course, I thought it was all about me and didn't think to check their website with my phone.

I went to a much-needed therapeutic coffee at Cafe Luna early in the morning. I was able to write and did some reading too. Then two women, about my age, and just about as badly dressed, sat down at the table behind me. And, oh joy, they were writers talking about writing. Specifically, about how difficult it is to make time for writing. I didin't mean to eavesdrop but my darn hearing just won't tune anything out. Even though I was trying to get a new scene down on paper, I could also register their complaints and concerns. I'd like to meet some fiction writers here in Longmont, but haven't had the time to figure out how. The only fiction writing group that promotes itself meets on Saturdays and that won't work for me.

The most interesting part of the day happened in the evening around 9-ish. We were watching an episode of Game of Thrones when there were knocks at both the front door and the back door. There were Boulder County sheriff deputies standing there. They were trying to serve a warrant on a woman named Valerie. The deputy at the front door showed my daughter a photo of a woman in her 40s with bleached blond hair and a ravaged face. To the best of my knowledge, this fugitive from justice has never lived in this house, but I don't know for certain. We got a court document addressed to her last year, but returned it with a note explaining there was no one named Valerie here. What a hard way to live a life.

The entire day stretches out at my feet. I have plans to visit my horse, and I may take my sidekick out to lunch since she doesn't have preschool today. My energy is returning and the house is not in too bad a shape. It's almost time to begin the season of yardwork hell so I want to get the house organized. Call it spring cleaning. I pruned and worked hard on the yard last year and, as a result, it looked horrible. I'm going to try to stick to pulling weeds and watering this year, and maybe things will go better.

I need a couple of hours of uninterrupted computer time then, voila!, I can send one of my favorite short stories back out into the world, hopefully to find a home in a nice modest publication.

This was in the yard of an art studio in Florida. Art is certainly subjective.

I would title this: Soul of an Writer Who Never Found Time to Write

Some Random Photos

 

Bend, Oregon has the prettiest coffee cups

Things went from bad to worse 

I can't remember what the smaller letters say, but it was funny 

My son's idea of an appropriate gift for a three-year old.

There was also a recorder and a harmonica.

I'm thinking of sending him a pregnant gerbil.

Grooves, Ruts, and Zones

I'm working my way toward a writing routine once again. I get into the groove, love it, then get knocked out of it. The shiny little marble, that could be symbolic for writing, (bear with me, I've been sick) goes rolling off across the floor and underneath the refrigerator. There are reasons, excuses, and delusions all over the place when it comes to the subject of why writers don't write. I've had this nagging cough but I'm back on my shaky feet. Care of the resident sprout is the number one priority around here, but there should be a way to eke out an hour or two each day for some writing time. I barely have the time to ponder what a weird word eke is.

The writing group is meeting tonight so I'm dragging my sorry ass to Boulder in rush hour traffic. I'm going out to coffee in the morning, alone or with anyone I can con into joining me, (Cafe Luna, 9:30) then I'll pick up said Sprout at her detainment center by noon. It would rock her world if the weather would cooperate so that she could finally play on that tantalizing playground out in the fresh air.

I'm fighting the inevitable rut of responsibilities and obligations, and wouldn't have it any other way, but it would be sublime to write. To live the dream. To cruise in the zone for a while. Almost as sublime as being published, perchance to dream.

Finally Some Blue Sky in Longmont (hack, cough)

It's cold outside but the sun has finally come out. Sunshine makes a huge impact on Colorado. We have an abundance of sunny days, shirtsleeve weather sometimes in the winter, and an impressive rate of skin cancer. But we're outdoorsy and love that sun.

I, however, came home from our trip and promptly came down with an illness. At first I thought it was a lingering set of symptoms from being allergic to the green, lush west coast but I'm afraid my sneezing has morphed into an actual illness. I feel lousy enough to start taking over the counter drugs, and I hate taking over the counter drugs.

I'm still a granny-nanny though and must soldier on the way women with children and grandchildren do. I soldier on with poor posture and a shuffling walk. I cough and blow my nose, I groan at the energy that will have to be expended getting dressed. Pathetic.

I've set up the little one with a large box of markers and some paper. As added insurance, I've turned on the television. It's on PBS so it's only a small sin. The Noodle and Doodle show.

How about some photos? I had a big problem with blurring this time. I'm blaming the camera but I secretly think it was operator error.

 bad photo-cool mural in Wyoming

 love Wyoming

 first wildflowers we saw by Columbia River

our mighty protector, kind of like those saint statues

The Wind Blew Us Home

We woke up at 4:00 this morning and hit the road at 5:00. The road looked good at first but we were soon hit by blizzard conditions. The wind was still gusting 50+ MPH and the roadsigns were impossible to read because the snow was sticking to them. We never drove through anything Steve couldn't handle, but I was always scared because I kept wondering what next? After we descended to a  lower elevation, I could see stars to the south of us. The sun was coming up as we closed in on Laramie.

We needed to gas up the truck and to eat breakfast so we took the main exit in Laramie. Actually we had no choice since the interstate was closed to the east. There were hundreds upon hundreds of tractor trailers lined up along the freeway. Off ramps and on ramps were full of truckers waiting for the road to open. Hotel parking lots were crammed-packed. A lot of the cars were encrusted with ice. After eating breakfast, we decided to take 287 down toward Ft. Collins. There was plenty of wind and some ice on the road but the sun came out and the views were great.

The wind is still blowing hard and cold here in Longmont, but the sun is out and flowers are starting to bloom. I'm doing a lot of laundry and will make my favorite easy dinner (chicken) tonight. The trip was almost 3,000 miles total. All is well on the home front.

I'll try to load my photos onto the computer tomorrow. I know I have a lot of deleting to do. 

Dianetics in Rawlins, Wyoming

Sorry,  this isn't going to be an expose of  Rawlins being taken over by a bunch of Scientologists.  This is a hardscrabble Wyoming town that still exists mostly because of Interstate 80.

We gave up on the idea of reaching home tonight, but got as far as Rawlins. There was a fairly decent looking Best Western here along with the bed bug types and everything in between. The front desk guy was ...odd....but pleasant. He looks like he would fit in with both the Beverly Hillbillies, yet would still be perfectly at ease with The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I think his hair was interesting, parted in the middle, straight, and cut to reach two inches below his ears. Our first guess wasvthat he was freshly released from prison.

The nightstand drawer contains a bible,  a book titled The Way to Happiness by L. Ron Hubbard, and a new copy of Cargo of Coffins, also by L. Ron Hubbard.   The motel is owned by CottonTree, which is owned by the Scientologists. I'm pretty open-minded but would I have stayed here if I'd known?
Well....after looking at the other hotels in Rawlins, I would.

We left Boise a and enjoyed seeing a wild turkey prance around by our truck while we were loading up.  Ate a lousy breakfast down the road at a place called Connor's . It took 50 minutes just to order and get the food to the table. Rain and more rain. Snow and more snow. Then the rest of the day was rain off and on, with the addition of 50 MPH gusts. Lukily we're used to wind.

Now Steve is snoring, James Cagney is on the television, and I'm going to try to make microwave macaroni. (the restaurants don't seem too inviting here, either)

There's a bakery/ice cream place named Huckleberry's in the old downtown. We've been there probably five years ago but remember it fondly. I doubt they'll be open on a Sunday.

Sorry about any typos or glitches. The iPad is getting ornery in its old age.

Tomorrow we'll be home, ready for another spring storm.

Boise By Any Other Spelling Would Smell as Sweet

I'm so punchy from driving all day that I could't spell Boise. I had to look at the cover of the hotel's phone book to get it right. I'm asking myself  'Just how many variations could there be? It's only five letters, for christ's sake!' The point is  I persevered until justice was done to this fair city's name.

But I  digress.

We had a lovely visit with our friends in Lake Oswego, but had to leave this morning. I really didn't want to go. Their home is an oasis of hospitality and intelligence. They've known us for many, many years and still like us!

That's two major good-byes in just two days. That sort of thing is becoming harder on this old girl.

But, have no doubt, Colorado is my home amd I love it there. I don't think "Home is where the heart is" covers all the bases. My heart is wherever my people are, and they're all over the place.

Seattle Shuffle

We had homemade blueberry pancakes then drove to find a light rail station we could park at.  Finally parked in the SoDo area and rode the light rail to  the Westpoint Center. (I'll have to check on that name)  We walked quite a lot considering one person is a four-year-old, one is a baby,  and one person was me. I loved the famous market with its amazing selection of seafood, produce, and flowers. I found a steel cut-out of a raven that I wanted and, after some rushed deliberation, I decided to spring for it. I'll post a photo of it when I'm back home. We sat at a little play area, drank coffee, and watched two police horses. One was a bay Morgan like my Cooper, if Cooper was on steroids and worked out on weights every day.  The police horse was also capable of standing still for long periods of time, which Cooper refuses to do unless he's sleeping. I had a terrible headache by the time we were heading home. I think my body went  on red alert at the instant, overwhelming onslaught of spring here. So much green and so many blossoms in this lush part of the country. Everyone is tired now. Chinese food has been ordered. The sun is shining and its a beautiful evening.

By the way,  E. aced her first day at her new preschool in Longmont.  

Seattle: Port City, Hip, Diverse, and Confusing

We arrived in Seattle on Monday. I headed for a neighborhood north of downtown because I remembered going to a toy store there once. We walked around, then I had the strongest latte I've ever had. It affected me. My heart was pounding and I felt jittery for a long time. We selected a couple of gifts for our two granddaughters and headed north on 99.

The family went out to dinner at a steakhouse that night. We never got to try a Montana steak, but I doubt it could be better than the one I had at Jak's. Granpa J. was babysitting when we arrived, so it was nice to have a visit with him before he headed home to his mountain.

We babysat for a few hours today while mama was working in her home office.  Hungry, I went out this afternoon and found a Pho place in White Center, a neighborhood to the west of  us. The area reminded me of Denver's Federal Blvd. The restaurant was clean and decorated in a way that it might have looked like in Viet Nam. The woman who took my order said, "Number!" I said,"Eight!" She said, "Small" and walked away. I thought Okay! It was very good soup. The area was the most diverse I think I've ever seen.

I love that Seattle is an old port city. I've never been anyplace before that has such a visual mix to it. There is great natural beauty next to funk. More hipsters than you can shake a pair of skinny jeans at, bookstores galore, coffee everwhere, and bakeries full of lucious treats guaranteed to be decadent and bad for your heart but good for your soul.

The roads and neighborhoods are the confusing part. I should know this city better by now, but its complexity is its charm.

Traveling: Day One: Montana

Spent 12 hours driving from Longmont, CO to Bozeman, MT today. The sky and the landscape was changeable, but beautiful all the way here. I saw an impressive number of antelope, and I've never seen so many horses all in one day, either. I could say the same thing about the clouds.

The sky was dumping rain as we arrived in Bozeman. It's no fun trying to locate a hotel  in a downpour. Looks like a nice town and the setting is great.. I'll do some exploring in the morning.

The Bighorn Mountains were a visual treat, but we started seeing a bunch of geographical features named "Crazy Woman" around here. A creek, river, mountains, and businesses, to name the few I saw from the truck window.

The Crazy Woman Mountains were glorious with the snow highlighting the contours and peaks.

So far, Buffalo, Wyoming has been our favorite town, but it lacks coffee places.

I packed too much. I'm too tired to sleep. Hotels give me allergy problems. (I blame the cleaning products) I apparently want to whine.

Montana is picturesque and I have a crush on the entire state. Please don't tell Colorado.

I'm trying to use my iPad to write this post. It's not going well so I'll just say aarghh! and stop.

Getting Out of Dodge

I wonder how many people understand the idiom 'Getting out of Dodge'. I'm a fan of westerns so that expression is deeply rooted in my brain. We're heading north tomorrow. We'll make a run for the western border once we're in Montana. Emily, our ornery cat, is headed for The Cat House this morning. She doesn't like being boarded, but the two guest cats in our house keep trying to fight with her. She's clueless and seems fine with the sudden appearance of two large, strange cats in her home, but the boys act like the Dothraki in A Game of Thrones.

This might be a trip of rain and cloudy skies. I have my new camera from Christmas, my backup camera, and a new fancy phone. This is the first time I can text, and I can use the Siri feature everyone is so fond of. I like the ease of taking and sending photos, and the quality is surprisingly good. I feel so plugged in now.

So many things to do and so little time. I am going to coffee today at noon, come hell or high water. (another fantastic idiom)

Beautiful spring day yesterday. Warm.

The grass is growing and the pastures are dotted with cattle and little black calves.

How to Become a Fiction Writer: Theory # 8903

Begin writing. Write every day. Don't judge, just write. Keep some sort of a journal. No one will see it, unless you decide to share it with your friends. (Don't!)  Write every day until a writing habit is formed.
Freewriting is all about writing on and on until you silence your inner critic and you start to write for the sole purpose of putting words on paper. If you want to know more about freewriting, google it. If you want to write fiction, you'll write a lot of crap before a wonderful thing happens. You quit trying to "write like you're trying to write like a writer", (which is a major insult you'll understand later if you don't already get it) and you'll find your voice. Your writer's voice.

Read. Read fiction. Notice why you like what you like, and why you don't like other stories. Meet other writers. If there isn't a group you want to join, start your own. An ad on Craigslist and on coffee house bulletin boards will start the ball rolling. (avoid cliches like "start the ball rolling" whenever possible.) Our group in Boulder is a good one and could use some more dedicated writers.

Writers are awesome, unique people with a different way of interacting with the world. Come join us. I wish we lived in a world where the pen is mightier than the sword, and in a world where the written word is honest and true. The way our society is manipulated by journalists is depressing and, sometimes, horrifying. Don't use your skills as a writer to join the dark side even if it offers you lots of cash.

Not all writers drink.

It's easy.

First Road Trip of the Year

We're heading West in the truck for a visit with family and friends, so I'm in my pre-trip worrying mode. I have my lists and expectations dogging my heels. I do this every time. The anticipation of a trip is almost the best part. I'm hoping for decent spring weather but haven't even checked the weather channel yet. I have a route planned through Wyoming, Montana, a bit of Idaho, and Washington, ending up in Seattle. The route home will include a night in Oregon, and another in Idaho.  The related roommates will have a nice change of pace while the old folks are out wandering around. These are my expectations.

Of course I'm taking my writing stuff. I get my best ideas while driving. I also lose some of my best ideas before I can write them down but, this time, I'll have Steve to take notes for me.

A beautiful weekend at the ranch.

Cooper and Max having some free time.

Me, hanging out in the sun.