Home at the Kiddie Corral

It's a pretty typical day, not that I really believe in the existence of typical days. Anything could happen because the day is still young. It's lovely outside but finally getting cooler just in time for Halloween.

Today is the 4th Tuesday of the month. I was in a writing group that met on the 2nd and 4th Tuesdays for years. I've been a member for almost 9 years but, sadly,  the group ran its course and became redundant. I tried to find someone else to take over, hoping the group just needed a fresh perspective and some new energy, but there are no takers. I'm going to miss all of the interesting people who participated in TFW and hope they succeed in their lives and in all of their writing endeavors.

I saw the sunrise this morning.

"Be a lamp, a lifeboat, or a ladder."

Rumi

The annual pilgrimage of lady bugs to our bedroom is almost over.

Stay-at-Home Weekend

It's never been this warm so late in the year the years I've lived in Colorado. It's been downright balmy this fall. The extra warmth has allowed us to get almost caught up and ready for winter. It felt good to finish painting the fence. (We started on the fence project a year ago in the spring-and it's not much of a fence) It's going to be 20 degrees cooler today so I'm guessing the party is about over.

The Books of Mystery

I drive Highway 287 six hours a week at a minimum. It's the prettiest commute I've ever had, but it helps that I like looking at farmland and the mountains. About a month ago, 3 or 4 books were flapping in the wind in the median just before Lafayette. I thought a student might have forgotten his or her books on top of their car, or maybe a box fell off the back of a truck during someone's move. But that wouldn't explain why there were a few more books the next day, then a couple more. Now the books are gracing the road's no man's land for about a half mile stretch. Some books are belly up, with brown pages blowing back and forth like an invisible thumb is flipping through the pages. Others have a fresher look and seem intact. Today is the first day I've seen loose pages blowing around.

This picture doesn't show the real number of books, but it was the best I could do.

I'm having a real hard time not going back, at some low-traffic time, to read the titles. I really, really want to know what these discards are all about.

Insomnia

The sheets tickle and itch. I'm hot then cold. Giving up all hope of sleeping, I head downstairs. I finished my book around 9:00 or I'd be happy to have some quiet time to read. The house is cold at this time of morning. I hear the cat eating her dry food. She'll probably go back up to bed and leave me to my exhausted yet wide-awake state.

My original plan was to go to the Black Hills with a friend this weekend. The weather has been looking good in the west, and chances to go on a snow-free road trip are about to become scarce. I had reservations at the Custer Mansion in Custer, South Dakota. The reviews were all over the place, with most of the complaints directed at the behavior of one of the owners, Bob. People either loved their stay or hated it. The off-season price was certainly good, and no one complained about the food at this B & B. But, sadly, my friend's mother became extremely ill on Thursday night and is still in the hospital. My own mother fell this week and broke her clavicle. My mother is home, being cared for by family, but my friend's mother is still in the hospital. These worrisome things happen and must be dealt with.

A train is approaching. The horn has a strange echo to it tonight. The cat is sitting at my feet, confused because we're downstairs. I wish it was the kind of world where a person could safely go for a walk alone at night. I used to do that sort of thing when I was 18 and living in Turlock. I lived above a beauty shop in the little downtown area, and enjoyed walking past the closed stores late at night. I was never afraid back then.

Almost 2 AM. The traffic is picking up outside. There are several late-night places on Main Street and it's Saturday night. In the summer, I enjoy hearing voices through our open windows as people walk home after an evening downtown. Not so many walkers now that the temperature is dropping at night.

Looks like I'm not going to be sleeping anytime soon.

In an October Rut

I'm in a rut, and not the deer kind. I'm so busy with the details of life that I fear I'm missing the bigger picture. If busyness is a virtue, then I'm damn virtuous.

A friend met a crow in Yellowstone.

The Sun Also Rises!

Pick a book and read!

No real explanation for this.

Even crows have mothers.

When Cranky, Try Eating a Snack

From the Sarah Edwards interview of Patricia Lockwood:

I don’t experience much loneliness, oddly. Sometimes I have thought I was lonely and it turned out I was in reality wanting a snack, just like sometimes I have thought I was mad and it turned out I was actually wearing too many sweaters. I’ve always been very content in the company of my own thoughts, and I prefer to spend much of my time alone. But I do like conversation — for the exercise, for the spark, for the let’s-see-where-it-takes-us, for being able to dip into communal creativity when you’re tired of your own air.

Patricia Lockwood

Saturday's Reverie

Written yesterday while enjoying perfect warm weather.

I'm in a rare state of perfect contentment. I'm writing in the early afternoon shade of our giant pine tree. There is more traffic on Collyer Street than on a typical weekday because of the Oktoberfest and the major ripping up of Main Street that begins right near the park with the festival. I have mocha in my commute mug so it's staying hot while I let my mind wander around. While sitting here, I think I have come up with a plan to give the side yard some shade and a little privacy. Shrubs along the fences will take up more of the yard, but we should still have enough room to create an oasis.

We went to the Sun Rose Cafe for an excellent breakfast this morning, followed by the guitar store, library, feed store, and the farmer's market. It was a great start to the day.

Now I have the singular pleasure of dragging all of the plastic outdoor toys out from under the pine for a good scrubbing. It's time to start putting things away before winter arrives. You wouldn't believe how many critters can live in a neglected, forgotten bunch of toys. Boy Howdy, as fictitious cowboys like to say. You might think it's too early to prepare for winter but, in my experience, fall is the shortest season.

Obviously winter is the longest.

I was barely started with my Herculean task when two grandchildren arrived for a visit. The water table got a good workout and a good time was had by all.

I found a bag with two peaches and a zucchini on my porch when I first went out front. Someone left this gift, with no note, where I could see it when I looked outside. What exactly should I think about this? Is someone naive or was I pranked? 

The Not-Quite-A-Vacation is Over

I got to see the Chihuly exhibit at the Denver Botanic Gardens. I have always loved glass art but his is amazing.

We ate lunch at the Buckhorn Exchange finally. One time we were in a store that sells antique photos of Colorado. There was an old photograph of people eating at the Buckhorn and one woman, who was looking straight into the camera, was Steve's mother or her doppelganger. The timing was right for her to be in Denver on her way to Texas.

Fading murals on the Buckhorn's exterior wall.

 I love rabbitbrush with its yellow blossoms, but I feel melancholy whenever the bushes flower because it means summer is almost over. Up in the mountains on Thursday, we found the aspens to be  especially good this year. 

Rocky Mountain National Park

Mountain climber with mountain mermaid.

Not Quite a Vacation

It's not quite a vacation for us this week, but it's certainly a change of pace. We've been sick but are feeling better today. Except for the cough. Everyone says that, I'm pretty good except for the cough. The poor cat is still a mess with her glucose readings from her diabetes. We keep poking her ear and giving her injections. She's not happy and we're not happy. Back to the vet this morning. I emailed the latest numbers to him and he wrote back, "There's something wrong with this picture." I agree.

We were supposed to spend the day in Denver on Monday but Steve had to make up some time at work first. I picked him up around noon and we headed to the Buckhorn Exchange for lunch. Teddy Roosevelt ate there in 1905. The food was very good but the number of stuffed animals and birds was somewhat disturbing. The historic photos and artifacts were well worth seeing though.

From there, we went to the Denver Botanic Gardens. They have a Chihuly exhibit that is a lot of fun. The median age of visitors at the gardens was around 74.

By the time we saw everything, we were tired but still went to my favorite Army-Navy store in Englewood where I got a good price on a new duffle bag. We'll have to see the new history museum some other time when our energy levels are back to normal.

Riding a Wild Horse With Your Eyes Shut

When I say that life is like riding a wild horse I am talking about how control is an illusion. Life is beautiful and life is dangerous. Right now, I was riding the wild horse with my arms in the air with my eyes shut. The horse was giving a glorious ride, but a hoof went into a hole and we went cartwheeling across the real world.

Six months ago, I picked a week in September for a vacation. I decided upon a road trip to the southwest corner of the state and into northern New Mexico. As the coveted week approached, my cat was diagnosed with diabetes. We were able to "fix" her diabetes with a change in her diet last year after she almost died. Somehow diabetes and liver disease go hand in hand. Now we've hit the big time. She has to have an insulin shot twice a day, but the awful part is getting the blood drop out of her ear twice a day to test with the glucose meter. I have terrible close-up vision and the veins in her ears are very tiny. So that part has been nerve-wracking. Her ears have suffered a lot.

This morning the vet looked at the records I've been keeping and told me we could go to a twice a week schedule for poking those ears. I felt like I just got a big present. Unfortunately their lab test, when finished, showed an extremely low glucose level of 44, so it's back to twice a day testing for two more weeks. My test at 6:30 this morning had been 142, which is a good number. The cat is very prone to stress and stress elevates glucose so I think she had a "white-coat" high reading.

While all of this is going on, my granddaughter came down with a virus that may be the one plaguing Colorado and other states right now. She started preschool a few mornings a week and, presto-chango, she's sick. Then I got it, our grandson was next, then Steve, and now our daughter. A lot of the people who took vacation time, along with me, are now sick.

I received a letter from my past on my birthday. My head felt like a dark kaleidoscope for a while. There was very bad news about my oldest brother that I'm still working over with the few available synapses I have left. The past can never really be buried.

There are some things I just can't write about.

Then there's the anniversary of September 11th, which is also when our disastrous floods took place last year.

It's all so much to deal with but we still keep getting back on the horse.

The solace of nature, plus a few water skiers

August 18th, 2014

August is my favorite month. I'm like a little kid with a favorite color (green), a favorite insect (dragonfly), and a favorite food (cheeseburger). I could fill a page with my favorites, and may do so during a freewriting session, but not now. You can thank me later.

The things we favor are just slivers of our personality pie chart, but they are mighty in number.  And some of the slices of the pie are beyond our control, such as health, intelligence, age, parents, politics, and even our looks can be a hurdle to overcome, but it's our expectations and preferences that make us extraordinary.

Before I turned 62

What happened at 62 years plus one day

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Just kidding, although my hair sometimes looks like the second flower.

Summer Malaise and the Doldrums

In August, one of our huge trees in the front yard begins to lose its leaves. I don't mind the mess, but the little leaves blowing around always remind me that summer is approaching its end, and that bothers me.  It doesn't help that I'm playing catch-up, trying to arrange and attend a bunch of appointments for myself, my horse, and my cat. Even getting a haircut has become a major annoyance. These obligations are really a pain to cram into every available Monday and Friday morning. My own fault for procrastinating, I know. Once all of my appointments are over with, I'm going to work on my wish list for visiting family and friends. Then it will be the holidays and I can complain about that. :-)

And as for writing... I worked three weeks in dibs and dabs to try to come up with 10 pages for my writing group. Realized I had written repetitious crap and ended up submitting three pages. August is a very poorly attended month for our group because of all the traveling and vacationing that people do. We had a influx of new, talented writers in June and July then only four people at our last critique session. I keep wondering if the group is circling the drain and hope it's not. I think new management would be a big help (In other words, someone who is not me) But maybe it's just summer malaise and the doldrums on a larger scale.

A Weekend in July

The hot weather seems to be taking a break this weekend. It's not the heat as much as the irritation of listening to fans and the air conditioner. Still, I remember when we didn't have any of the rooms air conditioned and it was awful.

It's Steve's 63rd birthday today. We've made a lot of trips around the sun together. He is choosing to spend his birthday puttering around the house, after drinking coffee and reading the New York Times on the front porch.

Some of the family are at a resort swimming and going to the local zoo, others are going to the Carousel  of Happiness in Nederland, and some of the more distant relatives are camping. Summer.

A neighbor came by and introduced herself. She has placed a "Little Free Library" in her front yard. The Grand Opening is today and we're invited. The library has a train theme seeing as she lives a very short distance from the train track.

I had an almost impromptu coffee with my friend, Nana, yesterday. The beautiful copies of her latest book arrived and I was privileged to received a copy. If you love memoirs or history, this is a fine read.

Tei: A Memoir of the End of War and Beginning of Peace

Translated by Nana V. Mizushima

Somebody crawls now. A big game-changer.

A trip to the market. Those are tattoos on her arms and legs.

The R & R Writing Retreat

Five of us went to the cabin last weekend to have a writing retreat of sorts. I dutifully prepared exercises and writing prompts, as did the other people, but the allure of the mountains seemed to sap our resolve. The most disciplined person there couldn't corral us into doing much writing. For the record, though, we did some writing.

I'd like to know where this place is. We could go there next time.

A new addition to our cabin decor. It was in uncovered while removing the flood debris.

Writerly trappings.

The Rainbow Family of Living Light: Live and Let LIve?

I just heard 30 to 50 Rainbow Family members are in the forest up by Red Feather Lakes in Colorado. They just had their annual July gathering in Utah with about 8,000 people in attendance. The group up at Red Feather Lakes has already had one stabbing when a guy with a knife attacked a guy with an ax. I've seen the kids panhandling in Boulder when the RF comes to the area, and they're rude and very aggressive. They carry knives and axes, for instance.

I decided to read a few webpages devoted to The Rainbow Family of Living Light. They look good on paper but their reality doesn't seem to match someone's good intentions.

Here's some of the vast amount written by members:

"Another interesting thing is that there is no formal organizational structure. There are no membership qualifications, no fees or dues, no leaders, and virtually no rules other than the one of 'peaceful respect.'
...Participation, communication, and cooperation are how things get done."

"Picture twenty thousand people in a sunlit meadow, standing silent in prayer, holding hands in one huge, unbroken circle. Picture a parade of children approaching, singing songs, their countenances bright with enthusiasm and face paint, balloons and banners waving in the breeze..."

 I'd say, "Sign me up," except I hate crowds and the Rainbow Family is famous for environmental damage. Medical facilities get stuck with unpaid bills, animal control was stiffed in 2006 after treating a parvovirus outbreak among the numerous dogs, trash is often left behind as well as human waste and compost, and there always seems to be some violence. The U.S. Forest Service in got stuck with a $573,000 expense after the gathering in Montana in 2013.

The area they are gathering in this time is next to where our horrific High Park Fire occurred two years ago. The mountainsides are still dangerous in many areas with flash floods and trees falling down. The land and the people are not healed, and monetary resources are stretched thin. The county doesn't need 8,000 wild cards building their campfires and damaging the fragile forests.

I am minutely encouraged to hear that an advance team of nonmembers arrive to organize kitchens, water treatment, latrines, first-aid, a children's area, and a place for the "troublesome" drinkers.

I don't know why these gatherings intrigue me. I am similarly fascinated by the Burning Man event that occurs regularly. Burning Man also pays its way with the local government and tries to get along. If anyone knows of someone who has written a book about the Rainbow Family, please send along the title. There is obviously a good, idealistic core to this cultural phenomena, but has it gotten to the point where it is attracting the wrong people? Is the destruction of the land is making it untenable?

I want to know more but, more importantly, I don't want to see hide nor hair of any Rainbows when I'm up at the cabin in August.

Time & Hamster Wheels

Time's a Wastin' is a Johnny Cash & June Carter song title. "Time's a Wastin'" is also a somewhat dated, yet common, expression. Life is precious, life is short,  blah, blah, blah, and we should be ashamed to waste so many good hours. This is not to say that every waking minute should be spent working, repairing, thinking great thoughts, and creating great works of art for posterity. There is a lot to be said for kicking back and living in the moment. (a cliche yet so very difficult to do) What is so wrong with living the life you desire as long as it doesn't hurt anyone, and your lifestyle is within the bounds of personal responsibility?

Allison Ballantine says:

We become so accustomed to life on the hamster wheel of achievement and approval that we just forget. We scamper on and on, chasing the ephemeral promises of “someday…” or “if only I…”

I have a terrible desire to find myself hanging out on a white sand beach in the Caribbean, drinking Coronas and staring into the soft waves as they break on the shore. Nothing practical would be accomplished by this change of my life's course. It would represent the attainment of pure relaxation and personal pleasure. There would be a tiki hut and umbrellas made of palm fronds, and a luscious breeze and fresh, ripe fruit. As soon as I learn to like the taste of beer, I'm buying that plane ticket.

As hard as I'm trying today to write this post, I am also taking care of two children. I wish I had a bubble full of silence I could stick over my head. I picture wearing an old diving helmet. I finally have the 7-month old asleep, but the 4-year old is happy and singing away with gusto. It's bad karma to tell someone they can't sing with gusto, so I won't. Being a silly person, I also have three parakeets who are belting out their own musica ficta. (in early contrapuntal music, it was the introduction by a performer of sharps, flats, or other accidentals to avoid unacceptable intervals) Parakeets just hate unacceptable intervals. The train rumbles and honks its way through the neighborhood at irregular intervals (the only acceptable kind).

The baby will be waking up any time now so I'd better quit thinking about beaches and beer, and more about hamster wheels.

  

The Cabin

There are a lot of books titled : Cabin or The Cabin, with hundreds upon hundreds more with some variation on the word "cabin". When I speak of "The Cabin" I mean our little brown cabin up at 6,000 feet. When we bought it, we tried to come up with some sort of appropriate, meaningful name, so we could say something like, "We went up to "The Squirrel's Bow" or "The Bat Cave", but nothing ever stuck. Corny names don't work for my kind of brain. Too dignified of a name is also too onerous. So we let the name come about naturally, ending up with The Cabin.

We went to the cabin last weekend. There were some repairs to be made and cleaning up to do. The guy with the Bobcat made a huge difference in removing the concrete-like dirt that has been encasing half the cabin since just after the High Park Fire in June of 2012. The removal of the majority of the dirt has given us some hope that we may be able to call the cabin "finished" once again someday.

A neighbor's cabin sits right on a creek that flows to the Poudre River. A flash flood must have hit the creek last Monday. The cabin had a lot of water flow to each side of it and almost washed out the road leading to the cabins at the end of the lane. Their bridge to a little island was damaged, and lots of debris piled up on their back porch. Still, none of the cabins have been destroyed despite the continued onslaught of mountain water with no way to sink in to the soil since the fire. Let's hope our luck holds and that the flash floods don't become any larger.

I have never seen such a profusion of wildflowers in the meadow.

The trail to the meadow has tall grass. Little snakes zip across the trail as you walk.

A Lotta Nada

I had coffee with a friend this morning. Very brief compared to our usual coffee marathons, but it was still well worth it. He had read three pages of my new book, but still found words of encouragement for me. I came home and wrote on the sweltering heat on the shady porch while my granddaughter had a spirited picnic next to me. It's amazing how a little encouragement helps my writerly intentions.

I complained about my difficulties learning a software program, telling him that our mutual friend, V, told me I had a psychological problem with technology. After I bitched about the program, he said, "You have a psychological problem with technology."

I'd like to be kayaking today. No technology required.

Crows and Bunnies: The Circle of Life

At Jeremy's workplace, a rabbit made a nest for her six babies under the portico, just inches from the curb in a busy area. Yesterday, when I got to see the nest, there were four bunnies left, and a very interested crow watching from the top of a light pole. A brave little bunny, barely large enough to fit into the palm of a hand, was out in the driveway on the scorching hot pavement.  Jeremy returned it to its nest and it snuggled in and fell asleep. Today, no bunnies in the nest. It seems that they wander out of the nest when their eyes open. Or...?

A Pleasantly Unsettled Day

I just had the luxury of having four days without my usual routine. Because every day was different, it was like a little vacation. I say "little" because there was also work involved. It was too hot to work outside, but I went to the ranch three times and enjoyed the peace and quiet out there.

A big storm hit last night around 11 PM. It was a torrential downpour so I don't have to water our yard or our neighbor's yard today. It's overcast this morning with a clean, cool breeze. The coolness won't survive the day, still it's a nice respite after so much heat.

The baby could barely scoot around the floor when I saw him last Thursday. Today he's a perpetual motion machine with the ability to travel around the room on his own now. It's amazing what can happen in four days with a child.

I didn't get much writing done during the long weekend because I was focusing on learning the Scrivener software. I've come to the realization that I expect it to be more complicated than it is and, thus, confuse myself.

The Day After July 4th

I've been in need of some unstructured time for myself and finally got the opportunity this weekend. Four whole days off of the routine grid. Hallelujah! I'm visiting my horse every morning, and getting some chores accomplished at home despite the July heat.

I stood at the end of my driveway last night and watched the fireworks being launched at the fairgrounds. It was an abundance of beautiful formations with brilliant colors. The clouds were almost spectral as they crossed the moon above the bursts of fireworks, with the clouds finally clearing and revealing a crescent that was almost a true half. Then I came inside to read before trying to sleep. This is when it became very clear that a major party was happening down the block. The thunderous noise, and intermittent high-pitched whistling, went on until 2 AM.

I finally fell asleep, but dreamed the baby was lying next to me and about to fall off the bed. The cat took it pretty well when I yelled and grabbed her with both hands. She couldn't have been any more shocked than me when I grabbed a furry infant. I quickly woke up and realized my mistake. Anyone who knows my cat will be surprised that the next stop wasn't the medicine cabinet to get bandaids.

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I succumbed after reading an article about how wonderful a series of books by Karl Ove Knausgaard are. Book 1, My Struggle, arrived late this afternoon. I've read the first several pages, then flipped through it, reading a few pages at random. It is a rare bird that appears to be as wonderful as promised.
Oh happy day.

Hazy Day in Boulder County

This morning, the hot air balloons we see almost every morning, looked ghostly even while close to our road. The mountains were also barely visible, all because of smoke from a fire burning in Alberta, Canada. This is so obvious to me but I'll point out that what we do to the environment affects others all over the world.

The kids enjoyed watching one hot air balloon land at the edge of Longmont this morning. E now believes me when I say there are people riding in the basket. She can be pretty skeptical for a four-year-old. Another balloon was very close to the treetops in the neighborhood across the highway. The newspaper reports that it landed safely in an elementary school playground.

The 4th of July is almost upon us. Should be a toasty weekend. I plan to finish learning Scrivener, which is software that helps disorganized writers like me become organized. At least that's the dream. I also want to do some writing, but that's what I tell myself every day.

A bird is in this kinetic sculpture, taking a free ride. It's near the top.

A working man's sculpture.

The Last Day of June Has Arrived

So much happened this month. Hot weather and thunderstorms. Work and play. And, best of all,

no catastrophes. I'm always a little sad when June becomes part of the past tense world. 

A princess visited our library

Dear friends came to see us

Our daughter made a new friend

And got to ride a train

The boys at the ranch were glad to see us

He was really happy when his cousin showed up