Dreaming in Crazytown

A friend wrote a creepy kind of story and I read it for the writing group. It was a psychological type of story and it got into my head enough that I had a weird dream that night. It started out happy but, before I knew it, the attractive couple in the dream were going to kill me. This is the really disturbing part that I can't quit thinking about. The guy is about to kill me and I run to a drawer and grab a potato peeler. To defend myself with. A potato peeler! What does this say about my subconscious, and my life in general?

Sadly, I never found out what would have happened because little E came into the bedroom and woke me up. What could I have done with a potato peeler against a threat from the murky swamp of my unconscious? Fix him some mashed potatoes?

My brain on REM.

The Amish Family in Routt National Forest

It surprises me that things that didn't bother me in the least when I was younger, now bother me to the point of being almost phobic. Like going to the dentist. What's worse is that I'm going to the endodontist to have work done on an errant molar that already has a crown on it. Have you ever had a glued-on crown removed? All I can picture, while it's being done, is a giant troll with a claw hammer trying to pull a huge nail out of a board. In my mouth. While I want to freak out and run. But can't. That's going to be my morning.

So I'll go to my happy place for a while.

While in North Park, we drove up into the Routt National Forest to the west of Walden, and visited an area called Big Creek Lakes. The large lake is one of those bucolic mountain places that is at a high enough altitude that the weather can turn dramatic at any time. I can't wait to go camping there sometime.

We met a Mennonite couple who were camping there in a large RV. They had an Amish family of ten people with them. The couple takes the family on vacation, for money, and had already been to Kingman, Arizona and the Grand Canyon. They said they do this every year.

The father has hunted for elk in this area, and had a trail ride planned for himself and the two oldest children for the next day. I have to wonder how they discovered this beautiful, off the beaten path lake in the first place.

Later, Steve was sitting down the beach playing his guitar and I was sitting at a picnic table doing some writing. Because of the large cooler to my left, I didn't notice the family standing there until the father spoke. It's a bit startling to look up and find ten smiling faces checking you out. We had a pleasant chat, with Steve being the focus of their curiosity. 

The family had stood in the road earlier and listened to Steve play guitar for quite a while. I had resisted taking their picture because I was afraid it would seem rude. Then the father produced a large and expensive looking camera and took some pictures of Steve. Funny.

Then the skies starting booming and the lightning arrived so we packed up and meandered our way back to North Park. 

Now part of Amish legend.

North Park, Colorado

We decided it was a good weekend for some mountain time, so we headed up to North Park on Saturday. Stopped at the cabin on the Cache La Poudre River and found the vegetation growing back, and no more damage from flash flooding. The canyon itself has been having a lot of closures because of the rivers of mud and debris flowing across the road but, for now, the little cabin has been spared further indignities.

May 2013

July 2013

This is directly behind the cabin.

Saturday found us at the Verner State Wildlife Area in Walden, Colorado. Steve was determined to

scare the fish in the North Platte River, and it was a beautiful day to do so. I parked the truck, walked around the front and promptly stepped into a large burrow and fell down hard. Nothing important was broken. I'm going to start carrying a first aid kit from now on, and maybe get a walker, goggles, and a helmet. This proves I need to get out in nature more often. I was looking at the stunning vista of North Park instead of the ground. A rookie mistake.

The mosquitos and biting flies were terrible but we applied DEET, which is absolutely awful yet effective, so we could stay and enjoy the beauty.

The irritating line is part of a fence.

The town of Walden is very small but has some amazing views. Food is iffy, with the Moose Creek Cafe being the most dependable. Even the one grocery store is in bankruptcy, and the residents are a long way from any kind of market. We were able to get a good coffee at the combination coffee house/  feed store that opened last September in Walden. You just have to be patient and wait for the barista/owner/cowgirl to finish up talking on the phone.

Our hotel was fine except that our AC wouldn't work correctly at night. A little white noise might have been helpful until midnight or so with Highway 14 just three feet from out window. 

Something I've never seen in a hotel room before.

The wildflowers were at their peak. We saw abundant wildlife except for the moose who are responsible for making North Park the "Moose Capital of Colorado".

The life-sized moose at The Moose Visitor Center in Gould.

Tuesday, Schmoozday

I'm tired. No two ways about it. Pooped to the gills. I was awake with E in the middle of the night when she showed up in our very dark bedroom downstairs. I thought it must be close to five o'clock but, after taking her "potty" two times, and getting up to get her a drink of water, I figured out it was more like three o'clock. We did eventually go back to sleep, only to oversleep until 8:30, which always discombobulates me. E wasn't feeling well so it was a long and arduous day with many highs and lows and not much in between.

The writing group had a scant four people, and one new person, who must think it's an old lady writing group. I don't know if we'll ever see her again, but it would be nice to have a few new writers on board of any age, gender, or general persuasion of any sort. Summer is always a very difficult time to get people together for TFW. The group I attended for a while in Edgewater quit for the summer just a month or so after I joined. I wasn't too happy with the long vacation but maybe they just knew how it would be. That's what happens when you live in a state with incredible recreational opportunities.

A good year for clematis flowers.

A moment in the shade on a hot day.

I've got a trip planned to Walden for this weekend. We need to relax, scare some fish, and soak up some scenery. We'll leave the Blue House in other capable hands, and we'll all get some space for a couple of days. We can check on the cabin on the way there and see if the latest strong rainstorms sent any more mud its way. I have a strong desire to cross the Snowy Range on the way home so we can see the pass. We camped there once and it joined my shortlist of special places.

Squeezing in Some Nature Time in Memory of Old WMD's

We've been working hard on our daughter's house that's going on the market, and have missed our occasional field trips out of the city, so we made an exploratory detour on our way to Englewood on Saturday.

The Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge is a mere 8 to 10 miles from downtown Denver and is said to be the largest Superfund Site in existence. The information I read had things in it like, "toxic horror" and "the most polluted piece of ground in America". So why not stop by and check out the current situation?

The 15,000 acre refuge is home to 330 species of wildlife. There are deer, coyotes, white pelicans, burrowing owls, American bison, bald eagles, prairie dogs, and so many more. We saw fish feeding in a bucolic pond and red winged blackbirds were in abundance. Most of the people we saw appeared to be birders or fishermen.

While looking at the lovely wildflowers, giant cottonwoods, and grasses, it was difficult not to think about the contamination, and almost unthinkable products, that were produced on this land after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. As the U.S. entered the war, large numbers of farmers were booted off their land with less than a month's notice. Production of mustard gas, white phosphorus, napalm, and incendiary munitions began to be produced in abundance.

Now, as the shortgrass prairie is restored and the eagles nest, five groundwater treatment systems treat more than 750 million gallons of groundwater a year. There is a nine mile wildlife drive and hiking trails. Some fishing, catch and release only, is permitted. (who would ever think of eating something from one of these lakes?) The visitor center is very nice and they offer programs for children as well as adults. There are even free guided two-hour tours on a shuttle bus. There is a program called "Disappearing Treasures: National Eagle and Wildlife Property Repository Tour" on August 16th that I'd love to attend, but will be out of town that day.

I applaud what is being done here. I recommend visiting if you're in the area because I didn't do justice to the history. I was appalled at the sudden eviction of the farmer's from their land, (more than 200 farms) and had never realized how many buildings were erected on the land for this wartime effort. It's an interesting part of Colorado's history. History is always a mix of the good and the bad. The Rocky Mountain Arsenal land is an example of how we can right a grievous wrong done to the earth. 

The Writing Life in Disarray

It's the 4th of July and a beautiful afternoon is just beyond my window. The yard is in bloom and calling to me to come outside to write and sit quietly. But, alas, I'm inside the house trying to create order out of an accumulation of papers that spans 20 years. I haven't actually hoarded every paper I've scribbled on, but the addition of the ability to print, with the push of a button, interesting articles and entire short stories has added, in an exponential way, to my godawful accumulation of paper. Now it's time to get things under control. One very large garbage bag is full and I've started filling bag #2. I feel a little faint when I look at the piles of paper on the floor around my desk. I need to find a place for each category. Is it possible? When I get sick of looking at each individual item, I go to the file cabinet and purge some files from there.

My plan is to get the situation under control so that I can devote my limited writing time to finishing the rewrite on the novel. Yes, I'm referring the same damn novel I've been referring to for a very long time. I work on short story rewrites but I  can't move on in a serious way until I finish what I've started. How do you eat a whale? One bite at a time. Unfortunately, I can't find my fork with all this paper all over the place!

Happy 4th!

"$20 fo sel"