The Magic Words

I just got off the phone with my mom. We were talking about my house for a bit.

Mom: Did your dad say anything to you about a dog?
Me: No. I mentioned it the other day, but he didn't really say anything about it.
Mom: Well, when we were talking about it, he said he'd be okay with a dog.
Me: Really? Awesome.

So, ladies and germs, it just got exceptionally more likely that I'll get a dog this summer. Winning over my dad to the idea was the biggest step, and now that he's no longer stringently opposed... One obstacle remains: The fence in my backyard is anything but dog-proof and will need repair or replacement (probably that second one) before it's ready for a critter. So, now that my dad's open to the idea of me getting a creature, I've just got to get him around to the idea of a new fence. Hrm...

Still, a fence is easy in comparison. Especially if I offer to help with the cost/labor.

Stepping Stones and After the Bar?

Transition periods have a tendency of making me restless. This week is the last week before summer break. Thus, I'm restless tonight. And tired. Not the most ideal of combinations. I feel like there's something I ought to be working on - other than my big class paper (which I'm not focused enough to work on right now anyway) - but I'm at a loss for what, in particular.

During dinner with friends tonight, I was asked the question of what I'll talk about here once I'm done waitressing in August. What would have the same kind of tone and comedic potential? I'm steering clear of teaching topics, because I can only poke so much fun at myself and I'm not going to talk about my students. That can only end badly. I've run out of steam on movie reviews - so hard to stay creative when it's all just more "I liked it" or "I didn't."

I've gotten personal in the past, but I don't know that I want to go back to that. Yeah, blogging is the new confessional and all of that, yet I'm not feeling particularly compelled to go in that direction.

Transitions... Going from one place to another. The foot is mid-air, headed for the next rock across the stream.

Can we always be our own compass, or do we sometimes need others to help point the way?

Tonight is a night for questions.

I can say that I'm in a better place now than I was in November. I've been saying "no" more often and in the past week or so I've taken a new risk which is spreading its own ripples. A couple of days ago I bought a new CD, Cracked Rear View by Hootie and the Blowfish. It's much more of a mainstream album than what I usually shell out cash for, but it's fitting really well right now.

I can say that my priorities have shifted. Notable: I've gone through the entire semester (practically) without once getting sick, despite the nasty flu that was going around and hit at least three students in my comp. class hard. As good an indication as any that I'm doing better on balancing myself out.

Tonight I'm thinking of ways of communicating, relationships, uncertainty, fear, the skunk under my porch, popcorn, Celtic music, things that are funny about people, sighs, meteor showers, that time of night when all the lights are out and you're in bed getting ready to fall asleep, the color blue, movies, conversations, eye contact, smiles, things that grow, and next week.

So on a closing note: People underrate the importance of humor. They oughtn't.

Is There a Connection?

Last night at 11:30 there was a commotion outside my house - specifically, in front of the house of my [meth addicted] next door neighbor. There were about six people having a very heated discussion for a good twenty minutes. While I couldn't make out most of what was said, I did hear something about a white Toyota truck which was gone. A little before midnight, a squad car pulls up and one of the gathered people has a conversation with an officer.

This morning, a couple of minutes ago, I hear knocking on my door. Typically, I don't answer my door when I'm not specifically expecting someone. This is to avoid people who are trying to sell me stuff or trying to get me to go to their church. Today, however, given this weekend's special circumstances, I broke policy.

I open my door to find a neighbor I don't recognize. He's the owner of last night's truck. As it turns out, he let the meth addict borrow it yesterday and the guy left him in his house (i.e. next door) and never returned. The neighbor somehow didn't get the addict's name (why you'd lend your truck to someone without knowing their name is baffling to me) and was asking if I knew anything about the guy. I wrote down his name and wished my neighbor luck in the return of his truck.

Neighbor: I don't know if maybe he's in jail or something. Then I'd know where to go get my truck. Now I can call and ask if he's there.

Maybe, if he is, that means I get my CDs back.

Break-In, the Day After

I talked with one set of my next door neighbors today - the cool ones who also know my parents, not the crazy one who's a meth addict and the most likely suspect, in my mind, for the break-in. They live on the opposite side of the house that the break-in happened, and hadn't really seen anything. However, they were really cool and helped me board up my broken window.

Today was also the day I planted the excessive amount of flowers I bought the other day. I mention this because, while getting ready for gardening, I went out the back door and noticed the blood on the outside doorknob. Yup, it seems that if you break into someone's house via a window, you just might cut yourself. I made a phone call to the police and a while later a CSI-type gal pulled up to take a sample. "Unfortunately," she said, "we don't run blood samples in burglaries unless there's already a suspect." So, whether or not the blood donation on my back door will prove useful remains to be seen.

At this point, it looks like the excitement is all over. Unless the police find a suspect somehow (which is unlikely), that's the end of it. My boarded up window will remain as-is for a while, and I'm rather okay with this as it's harder to break plywood than glass. Sometime in the next couple of days I'll venture out to the store to see what I can find by way of stereo (and CD) replacement.

Then, too, there is the small matter of cleaning a stranger's blood off my door. I can't help but hope that the burglar's cut gets infected and gangrenous. Ideally, some kind of amputation will prove necessary.

A Big Pile of Suck

So, today was another one of those long-ass days that started with comp. class and ended with the bar. I showed up at the bar at four o'clock and stuff happened, people said stuff, and one of my tables stayed entirely too long, forcing me to be there until one thirty.

Not my favorite day, to say the least. But, we're not going to get into any bar stuff tonight. No, we're skipping right over all that because when I got home I stepped through the front door and noticed that something was off. You see, one of the first things I see when I step through my front door is my entertainment center. Tonight I noticed that on top of my entertainment center, where my stereo usually stands, there was empty space.

My mind worked really hard really fast, trying to figure out a logical explanation. My folks/landlords have a key and my first thought was that they had, for some reason taken my stereo. However, as they are currently out of town, that explanation didn't work. A few moments of the rest of my brain catching up to immediate reaction: Oh, I get it, I've been robbed.

That's right, my friends. At some point in my long-ass day and night, one or more people took it upon themselves to break the window at the side of my house, invite themselves inside, and make off with some of my possessions. As realization dawned on me, I noticed stuff that had been knocked over. I noticed that my collection of little boxes on my bookshelf had been rifled through, etc.

Gone:
Stereo (and the CDs inside of it)
Keyboard
One scotch container of maybe $50 of change
My rings (all inexpensive jobbies less than $10 each)

So far as I can tell, after a walk through of my house, that's all that's gone. That's the part which is simultaneously a relief, and rather baffling. It leads me to think that the theives were in a hurry and limited on the stuff they could carry. I get taking the stereo. I don't get leaving all the CDs (other than those already in the stereo) which have got to be worth more than an old stereo that's going on ten years, and are certainly easier to toss in a bag than a keyboard. Why they would take the old stereo and leave my new-ish computer, I don't know (not that I'm complaining, mind you).

In my room they dug through my old backpack - because that's the first place I'd put valuables, right? They completely missed the $20 or so cash I had laying out in the living room and walked right by my digital camera. Weirdest of all: for the CDs I had in my stereo, I had the cases leaning against a speaker. When they took the stereo, they left the cases on my entertainment center, more-or-less neatly stacked. I've got no clue there.

So, after I walked through the house I had to consciously think: Ok, now what do I do? Because, seriously, twenty minutes earlier all I was thinking was how damn tired I was and how good it would be to go to bed. I was not thinking of what one does in the event of a break in. It took me a minute to get my phone to call the police. Two officers came out, took some notes, looked at the broken window, and gave me a case number. Then they pretty much shrugged, said "Call if you find out anything else," and went on their way.

This brings me pretty well up to the present. I've taped up a couple of garbage bags to cover my window and resigned myself to the fact that there's no way I'm falling asleep tonight. I'm incredibly relieved that, though they took stuff, they didn't actually take that much, and they none of what they took was super valuable. My beads and the jewelry I've made were left alone, as was my computer (my two most valuable/important things). My grandfather's violin, which I tucked behind the couch, was left alone. They didn't do any vandalism (save the busted window), and most of what they took is easy to replace. Now I can get a new stereo, even.

It's strange, to think about this in the context of what people value. Obviously (and fortuantely), I and my intruders have different priorities.

Ultimately, I find that what I'm most pissed about is dealing with the window and the fact that my new Flogging Molly and Dropkick Murphys CDs, since they were the ones in the stereo, are gone. Bastards. I just got those CDs. Oh yeah, and the fact that somebody fucking broke into my house. That, in and of itself, does nothing for my mood.

Maybe now my dad will warm up to the idea of me having a dog.

Ceilidh

Last night I looked through my closet for something green to wear today. I had an interesting revelation: aside from a green work shirt, I ownly own one other shirt/blouse/etc. that even has green in it. By way of contrast, I've got quite a lot of brown and red. Huh. But, I do have that one shirt, and even a pair of dark green pants, so I was safe from pinching all day.

St. Pat's was much more fun this year than it's been the past two. Not working at the bar had heaps to do with that. Also helping was the "Evening of Women's Poetry" shindig I went to. In part it was a reception for the winners of the Southern Colorado Women's Poetry contest, in part it was live music by a celtic music duo, and in part it was a lesson in folk dancing.

Yes, ladies and gents, I danced. I was coerced and only did the one song (out of two while I was there), but I danced. The last time I danced was when I was similarly coerced while I was at junior prom (which was also the last time, barring Jenny & Shane's wedding, when I wore a dress for anything other than an orchestra concert).

It was fun and it abounded in English geeks, so it was a good night out for me. A far cry, for sure, from the state of mind I'd be in right now if I hadn't weaseled out of working.

Elk Rouladen

I requested this Saturday off at the bar so I could have that time to work on the last of the party prep, and surprise, surprise, I actually got the day off! Pinch me, I must be dreaming.

So, technically the party is a potluck. However, I get a kick out of cooking when I'm not the only one who'll be eating the food, so I've got a list of half a dozen things I'm going to prepare and an extra crockpot borrowed from my mom to help keep things hot. Since I'm now done with anything class related for the semester (Hallelujah!) and since I've got Saturday off, I've got oodles and oodles of time to cook.

I've also taken a big chunk out of my prep time by making most of the rouladen on Monday. This year when mom got her elk, my folks used their nifty new meat slicer to turn some of that elk into thin strips for things like stir fry and, of course, rouladen. This is my first elk rouladen and I'm curious to see if I'll be able to tell much difference. Since my family is a hunting family, I'm used to eating game meat just as much (if not more) than beef. Heck, now that I'm in my own house the vast majority of the red meat I cook is elk or antelope out of my parents' freezer.

Anyhow, I used a couple of packages of elk on Monday and got a batch of about twenty. I picked up another last night and figure that'll be worth maybe 8-10 more. About right for the party, I think, with some leftovers potential. Mmm...

The Balancing Act

Thanksgiving break was wonderful. So much so that I'm already counting down the days until Christmas break. Usually, during a whole week of nothing to do but the bar, I find myself wrestling with boredom. Not so this time. While I credit part of that to being sick, I can't write it all off. My lack of boredom is a bad sign which serves to emphasize my need to make some changes.

First and foremost, I need to get away from the bar more. This three nights a week stuff is silly. We got a new person for a reason, and if she can't work both weekend nights (thanks to her other job) then it's time to push the owners to hire another newbie. Come spring semester, my goal is 1-2 nights at most.

At this point in the semester, housework has piled up from neglecting it for weeks on end. Over break I made a concerted effort to clean up and put all my beads in one place (versus scattered all over the living room). Since I put up Christmas decorations at the same time, it worked pretty well. My living room and bedroom got put to rights. Next comes the kitchen, office, and bathroom (which is half-way there already). I'm not the tidiest housekeeper, but once I hit a certain degree of clutter, I start feeling it in a feng shui kind of fashion. De-cluttering is a good start to my personal balancing project, and it's a nice way to see tangible progress.

Another step is having my Christmas party. This also doubles as an incentive to do other things, like clean the house, which are on my list.

Related, though indirectly, to the balancing project is the Mystery Adventure Vacation. Last year my parents thought it'd be fun for the family to go on a trip. Casey and I even got passports. The trip fell through, though. This year, my parents have revisited that idea and have decided to send the brother and I off on a trip to a destination unknown to us.

If you suspect a bit of trepidation on my part, you're right. Somehow a vacation that's out of my control makes me a bit uneasy. Knowing it's my mother's brainchild doesn't entirely quell that. This is the same mother who once bought me glittery jeans for Christmas because she thought it'd be funny. If you haven't noticed yet, I'm not the glitter type. At least it'll be my brother and I, sans our parents. Given the similarity in our temperments (as opposed to the lack thereof with our mother), I have faith that once we get to wherever it is we're going, we'll be able to do the metaphorical driving.

Working up to this vacation, my parents have decided it'd be fun to give us clues to figure out where we're going.
Clue #1: My parents want to go here themselves.
Clue #2: It somehow involves driving a golf cart. (That one makes me nervous)
There will be twelve clues in all and they'll be given to us at random intervals. Some of these clues will be red herrings. My mom is getting such a kick out of this, it's not even funny.

Whew, there's a long post. To sum up, these first steps across the stones feel right. Progress is progress, even if it's slow.

The Navel-Gazing Post

This post starts in 2001 when a friend gave me a journal for Christmas. My first entry was on Christmas Eve and ever since, December 24 has been marked in my mind as a day for taking stock. I don't always write my yearly inventory down on the exact day, but it's always what I'm aiming for. This year I find myself making pre-emptive gestures toward that inventory.

Picture a river in your mind. Picture a wide path of stepping stones going across it. Now imagine that not all of the stones are stable enough to bear weight and there's no way of knowing which will hold and which will give. Now picture me in the middle of the river.

With every year that goes by, we face a series of choices and changes throughout it. This year has been a very eventful one for me. I had a boyfriend, got a fiancee, then had neither. I was a student, I applied to become a teacher, and got the TA. Both are good changes. Both have significantly changed my plans. Here I am, in need of a new plan, and I'm no longer even sure what my priorities are, but sure that they too need to change. Balance is important and it's something I don't currently have.

Meeting up with my friend yesterday emphasized that. Both of us are struggling with this idea of balance. She's having a rough time with school, I'm having a rough time with certain things outside of school. If you put the two of us together, I think you'd get a balanced person, but with physics and all, that's not a viable option right now. Which leaves us each to figure it out for ourselves. Next semester, my friend has decided to stop working and only be a student. She's got a plan to balance herself. I don't.

I have my reasons for what I do, and I like to think they're good reasons. I just have to admit that I get carried away. There's a reason I've got a cold again, just a couple months after my last one, and why it's taking such a toll. I tend to define things by what is possible instead of what is a good idea - Like, it's possible to work full time between two jobs and take 18 credit hours, but, as evidenced by the illness (followed by a vertigo spell) that knocked me flat right before/during finals week during my last semester as an undergrad, not the best idea. Still, I find myself in a similar situation right now. The lesson obviously didn't sink in. So, while I overload myself with school and work, other aspects of my life get neglected. In part, I think overloading gives me an excuse to avoid those other aspects.

On my writing blog, I said that this month my goal was to slow down. With that in mind, I managed to wrangle myself out of two Wednesday night shifts at the bar this month. A small step, but one made because of my goal. Then I talked about the strangeness of this week, a week off from school. I'm having to force myself to slow down even more and concentrate on doing things for myself this week. This is my second day "off," and I've managed to force myself to take my mind off of what I "should" be doing. Mostly. Being sick and having little energy for much beyond watching a lot of TV helps.

I'm over a month early for acconting for the year, but I'm in that mode of thought. It's all about priorities and the fact that mine usually align with doing what I think is the smart thing to do. I need to find a way to even out my priorities and find the balance between being smart and being brave.

There are a Few Ups

"Wow, you sound bad."
-Mom

Being sick is by and large something I like to do as little as possible. Because, seriously, feeling crummy and having a hard time breathing through my nose is not the high point of my week. However, all obvious negatives aside, there are some good things about being sick.

For starters it gets you out of everything, like work, and it means you get to stay home all day and do superfun things like take a three hour nap and watch oodles of TV without feeling the least bit guilty. There's also soup, though thanks to my fun congestion I can't actually taste much right now. It's so weird to eat and drink when the only kind of taste information you're getting is vague notions of salty or sweet and nill in between. A great time to take in those foods that are good for you, but that you don't really like. Now, if only I had some fresh tomatoes and onions. Whoo-boy, we'd be in business.

Ah well, time to go back to reading the http://www.questionablecontent.net/ archives while feeling absolutely no remorse about putting off the gobs of homework I've already got from my classes. Right now is time for self-indulgence, not essays. Besides, given my level of mental functioning right now, it's really for the best if I wait until I'm less muzzy-headed (Ha ha! Like that Deb? That's right, I said "muzzy")

See what I mean about the mental state?

The Weekend of Much Eventfulness

"Thank God."
-Me, internal thought (but really, what's an external thought?) upon seeing the box full of copies of the nightmare anthology

Yup, the books came in. I went to an SCWP leadership meeting on Friday to help take notes, and I spotted the box almost as soon as I walked in. What a relief. There are no more problems to fix, no more edits to do. The book is completely done. As an added bonus: it looks really good. I'm so happy at how they turned out (not to mention relieved). Katherine's also happy with the result, which makes me happy 'cause she's my boss. It's always good to make the boss happy :)

Saturday was also eventful as that was the day of my just-for-the-hell-of-it-party. I woke up much too early in the morning, especially after working at the bar until 2:00 a.m., because of the feeling that I had a lot to do. I'd already done most of my cooking in advance, so I had pasta salad, bread, and spinach and artichoke dip all ready to go. I still had plenty of veggies and a pineapple to butcher, and a bit more cleaning. So, I got to work.

Fast forward and people start arriving, including my brother who made it after all. Fast forward again, and it's 2:30 a.m. and the last two people are leaving. Despite the sleep deprivation, I'm very, very glad I did it. It was very good to have a handful of my favorite people filling up the house, even if I did get more than my share of ribbing. I guess that's part of being the host - getting ganged up on. Oh well, I tried to pass it around as much as I could and Mishell even stuck up for me, much to the disappointment of those picking on me. So now I have a fridge full of leftovers, including a dozen ears of corn that got grilled and no particular idea what to do with them, and the thought that maybe I shouldn't wait another year to do it again.

Farmer's Market/Havin' a Party

"It's like eating candy, when it's that fresh."
-Dave, talking about local veggies

A few weeks ago, while I was sitting at home thinkig I need to get out more, I started thinking about the housewarming party I had last October and how maybe I didn't need to get out, but rather get people in. Besides, my house needed cleaning and guests would be a good incentive to get to work. For lack of an occassion, I've decided to call it my End of the Summer party.

Fast foward a bit, and the party's tomorrow and I've made a few loaves of bread to go with some spinach and artichoke dip and my folks are bringing over their grill so we can roast ears of corn. Mmm... This morning, I went down to the farmers market and did some impulse purchasing of organic matter. So, two dozen ears of corn (by God, I hope there are enough people to eat it all), assorted peppers and some cucumbers later, and I think I've got enough veggies for snacking. I also came across some tart cherries and had to get a basket (which was almost the last one, too). Technically, they're for pie making. I'm not planning on any pies, but had to get them anyway. When I was a little kid we lived in a house where the neighbors whose backyard was up against ours had a monstrous cherry tree. They told us to help ourselves, and I remember standing on the picnic table in our backyard and pulling tart cherries off the tree. Good memories, so a bit of nostalgia definitely factored in. Of course, they're still tart enough that it's hard to eat more than just a couple at a time. I'm thinking maybe sprinkling some sugar on them, or getting some whipped cream for dipping.

I'm quite looking forward to everyone coming over tomorrow. It'll be nice to have some of my favorite people all together at the same time, and it gives me an excuse to have lots of tasty food around. Sadly, it doesn't look like my brother will be able to make it since he'll be on base. Oh well, there'll be more food for everyone at least 'cause he's one of those ravenous beasts that descends like the proverbial locust. Now if only the floors would all sweep themselves, and the laundry get itself off the floor, everything would be perfect.

Sitting on Houses

"We're leaving tomorrow."
-Gretchen

I used to do a lot of babysitting for this family and it's always nice to hear from them. Especially when they want me to housesit, and especially when they have new pets. Now, along with the crazy Springer spaniel, they've added two cats to the household. They're still more kitten than cat, I think she said six weeks. They're incredibly cute, and I get to play with them lots. I'm also staying at the house, which is far nicer than mine and has central air. It's a good time all 'round.

Of course, it puts a hitch in my plans for this week: making lots of jewelry and taking pictures of it. However, I'm really not crying about it. Kitties, remember?

Road Trip: The Return

"Wanna hear a joke?
Ok.
Tell me I'm a desk.
You're a desk.
No I'm not."
-Kyle, relating a bad "joke" his friend told him

I made it all the way to Camii and back without major incident (save a traffic jam or two and a little bit of getting lost) and on time, since I had to work last night and got into town just an hour before I had to clock in. I've never been so glad that waitressing is an on-your-feet job as I was yesterday after spending about six and a half hours driving.

The visit itself was mundo wonderful. I got to see Camii's condo in person. The renovations she's done are lovely, I'm especially fond of the red & black dining area. I can't wait to see what she does with the rest of the rooms. I also got to meet Camii's boyfriend Kyle, who I quite like. We wandered around downtown and checked out the shops - including a rock shop that had two walls of semi-precious beads (it was like dying and going to heaven, but I limited myself to a strand of very cool lava rock beads because of the massive online order). We also went bowling, which was quite hilarious because we're both terrible bowlers.

Then, on Tuesday night we stayed up until after one a.m. chatting and looking through the box of old letters I sent her. That was wild, let me tell ya. Apparently, I'm quite neurotic (demonstrated by letters written in multi-colored pens, plastered with stickers and doodles, which leapt from topic to topic with little warning) . I never realized how tiny I sometimes write. We tried to figure out where the itty-bitty writing comes from, the best guess was that those were time when I was aggitated (though not always).

So, in short, we had great fun and I am so very glad I went to visit. The long-ass drive was well worth it.

Road Trip!

"We have a couch and a couchbed you and your brother could sleep on, too."
-Camii

Last May, Camii and I met up in Denver for a day of chatting and wandering around the mall. Well, over a year's gone by since then, and it feels like time to see each other in person again - especially since my brother's home for the next few weeks and agreeable to going with me. I can't be positive yet, since I don't know my work schedule, but it seems that July 9-11 would be a good time to hop in the car and drive for five hours to Camii-land.

Since I just finalized my bead order (a few weeks until the other gals decide what they want, but I figured the longer I have to play with it, the larger and more expensive it'll get), there shouldn't be much temptation to hit the bead shop there. Okay, right, I'm probably lying. But, it sounds good, doesn't it?

Smudge-Pies

Here is how you make smudge-pies, which are not like s'mores at all :)

Step One: Butter two pieces of bread.

Step Two: Lay the first, butter side down, on one half of the smudge-pie maker. Add a dollop of canned pie filling (apple, in this picture).

Step Three: Add the other piece of bread and put the smudge-pie maker together.

Step Four: Cook over the fire. (Demonstrated here by Kelsey)Step Five: Eat.

Not Big With the Sympathy

"Where's your sympathy?"
-Mom

On occasion, my mother has called me, usually jokingly, heartless. I’m not big on “ooh, that’s too bad” stuff when people complain. Why? Because of things like Saturday.

Katherine stopped by the bar for a while, along with a smattering of SCWP folk. One of whom is in the masters program and I’ve known her for a while. To be honest, I’m not a big fan. Let me explain: drama. On Saturday, Katherine and another gal were feeling badly for her, they even got her a shot out of sympathy. When this gal went out for a cigarette, I went out to pick up glasses from the patio and asked her about why she was so stressed.

I got a laundry list of every little problem she had, like the pump on her swamp cooler went out, her car’s having problems, her mom’s coming to visit and her house is messy, she’s so busy with SCWP, and she’s got a lot of school deadlines due at the end of the month. By the way, these school deadlines are her finishing up coursework for classes she took a semester or two ago and currently has an incomplete in. I was in one of those classes, I don’t think it was that overwhelming. Yeah, she works full time. Great. Um, so do I, and during the semester we had a class together, I think that was her only class (I took two). She doesn’t even have time-absorbing kids as an excuse. The best part was how she whined about not being able to even have the summer off because of SCWP (which is one month of the three of break). As I write this, I’m trying to remember the last time I had three months in a row where I didn’t have to go to work. I think it was middle school. Anyhow, during her litany, I nodded and said “yeah” and then tried to walk back inside. She kept right on talking. Yeesh. I wanted to tell her “Get the hell over it already, most of these problems are of your own making anyway.”

Then, on the other hand, we have Julia. She works three-four nights a week at the bar, including the occasional killer 2:30 p.m. – 2:00 a.m. (if she’s lucky) shift. She also works around thirty + hours as a caretaker, and she’s been taking classes. She finally got her bachelor’s on May 5th and had the whole week off of work for it. The week before she was looking forward to getting some housework done. Unfortunately, she didn’t get the chance. Her brother’s new baby died, SIDS strikes again, and she spent the week in Kansas for the funeral. Instead of getting a chance to have some time to herself and celebrate her degree, she got to spend some time with family, grieving over her nephew’s death. While she told me what happened, and I could tell how sad she was, she did not go on and on about how her life sucks.

Isn’t it funny how the people who complain the most are often those that have the least to complain about?

Denver Zoo

On the third day, we pack up, check out, and head to Denver Zoo on the way back home. It was fairly warm (mid 80's or so) and I was wearing jeans and walking shoes (i.e. not sandals) so I was feeling pretty toasty. So, it seemed, were many of the animals. A lot of the creatures were napping or lazing around.

Except for those who decided to get a little more proactive about cooling off.

After roaming the zoo for a few hours, we headed home in a nice, air-conditioned car. The best part, I didn't even get sun burned.

Estes Park Pictures - Day Two

We're up and walking around downtown about 10:30, and on the circuit of shops we stop by the little park area near the end of the road. They've got a few sculptures scattered about. This one's my favorite.

Since I've been talking about getting a sunset picture, Keith and I walk across the street to a meadow and wait around for forty-five minutes before realizing that, since the sky is clear, any sunset I get will be pretty bland since there are no clouds to soak up the color.

However, we do find another sing of elk, though this one is beyond the point of grazing behind the cottage.

Estes Park Pictures - Day One

Digital cameras are a beauitful thing. During the time Keith and I were in Estes Park and touring Denver Zoo, I took 183 pictures. Whoo-boy. Once I got home and loaded them on my computer, I quickly deleted a large chunk (roughly half, I think) but it was quite nice to have so many to pick and choose from. Just think, had I used a regular, film-requiring, camera, I wouldn't have all my lovely pictures.

Keith and I arrived in the early afternoon and checked into our cottage.

Around 6:00 things started looking gloomy and soon enough, it rained, sleeted, and hailed.

The mountains looked wonderful though, and when we came back to the cottage after picking up supplies from the grocery store, a handful of elk were just over the fence behind the cottage.