It's the Little Things in a Day that Matter

I went to coffee in Niwot on Monday, expecting to meet a friend. We were planning to do some actual writing but, alas, my friend lost her calendar and didn't show up. (she did call when she remembered) I had a pleasant coffee and did some writing on my own, then headed home.

There's a little dirt road that runs between The Diagonal and 95th. I've never driven down it so that's the way I headed home. Lovely area. I felt like I was in the middle of the countryside instead of next to a small city. The homes all had acreage so they were spread out a bit. I was driving on a dirt and gravel road. My approach was not a quiet one. As I approached the last home, I realized I had surprised a naked man in his front yard.

He was startled, but was too far from his front door to escape so he turned and slowly walked away from my eyes. This was no Adonis. He was probably in his 60's, with a very large belly and thin legs. Judging from the expanse of very white skin, I'd have to conclude that he was not a practicing naturist. The only thing that could have made this more entertaining was if he'd been wearing black socks and dress shoes.

Friday is My Favorite Flavor of the Week

Today was Coffee With Some Writers Day. I already have a thing about Friday because it heralds the arrival of the weekend. It's psychological and not a concrete thing to be happy about, but it works for me, and I know I'm going to be happy about something at least once a week. Win win.

I feel more enthused about writing after indulging in some shop talk with other writers. I came home and started working on the rewrite of my book. Page one. Sadly, I only got as far as the header and the first line.

But one person said the nicest thing to me today. He said all of us, at coffee, have strong personalities. I asked for clarification that I was included as someone with a strong personality. He said yes. I'm so damn flattered! I like the idea of possessing a strong personality. I've felt faded away and invisible for years (with occasional outbursts of obnoxiousness) so this sounds like good news. Fridays are so awesome!

If I was a bird, this is what I'd look like.

Strange Grounds

I spent last night in Denver and had the morning free, so I set out to find a good coffee place for some writing, reading, and coffeeing. The place nearest the house was mobbed, probably because the bad weather the previous day discourage people from driving, or lots of people are on vacation for Christmas already.

I remembered a coffee place I'd seen the week before, but it was way down Broadway in the antiques district. I couldn't think of any reason not to give it a try so I headed north.

I parked in the thick, filthy snow-slush in front of Strange Grounds. I followed a strange old man inside. His Subaru had a complicated purple bike rack on the back, and the car was decorated with silver garlands and  Christmas lights. He didn't look like he'd ride a bicycle.

This place was just right. The room opened up into what had once been a neighboring business. That room had more seating and a nice stage. There were books, art, a bulletin board and, of course, good coffee. Funky from the word go. The young, sweetly pierced barista was also a fiddle player.

The old man had on a strange fur hat with a long tail reaching down his back almost to his waist. I wondered what animal would have a grey fluffy tail that long. I still haven't been able to answer that question. On top of his hat, he wore a wide ear-warmer band, (what the hell are those things called?) so I couldn't really get a good look at the fur hat. He was friendly. There was a big O on the headband thing. University of Oregon?

Strange Grounds advertises "Strange Grounds is Open Late Damn Near Every Night of the Week". They encourage musicians and singers to come and perform on their stage, and stay open late for writing and discussion groups. Life can be good in the city.