September 13, 2012
My lovely Ecuadorian host mother, Rosi, sent me home in 2010 with clippings from a plant she shares with all her friends. I cherish that plant. It lives on the kitchen window sill, growing slowly but heartily, reminding me of her every day.
This month, it finally flowered for the first time. Just one, but it's a start.
Several days later, another rare treat: fog in the Flatirons. This is the view (with a generous zoom) from the park by our house where I take Sonora to do her bidness.
September 3, 2012
The most fascinating thing about Hannah's place, for me, was this:
A week or two earlier, she had discovered this dead owl in a tree on the edge of the property.
How did it die? Why did it get stuck on the branch of this tree?
I was enthralled. I actually was thinking of doing a study on it, going up every week or two to see how it was faring over time. Be glad I didn't, because there would be a lot more dead owl pictures.
Every part of it was intriguing, and I had to resist touching it. I didn't resist getting a few fingers in its under-feathers. Amazingly soft. The down was so soft that I couldn't even feel it against my skin. If it weren't dead, I would want to make a bed in it. Then again, if it were alive, I don't think that would be an option.
Hollow. Dead. Gone.
September 2, 2012
Twenty minutes and a world away.
Our friend Hannah has access to a little escape just up the road from Boulder, a short drive up a windy road and into the near mountains. It's her mother's house, and it's a little dream.
A group of us went up to grill out, hang out, and, for a few of us, to spend the night. What sold me? We slept in a teepee.
The focus of the evening was on the food.
We all contributed the raw ingredients, and David cooked up a storm.
And, in case you're curious, here's what it looks like to be surprised by a flash when entering the teepee for the night:
The highlight for me was on the following day, which merits its own entry. Read on.
September 1, 2012
A Few Random Things Including the Death of the Fuzzy Slippers
I feel like I have to share on the iceblog that the fuzzy slippers died. My mom sent me the fuzzy slippers for Antarctica and I wore them in my dorm in McMurdo, and loved them, and posted about them.
Sonora had tried a time or two to take our her separation anxiety on them, fortunately failing.
But a visit from a friend's dog resulted in one of the fuzzy slippers losing its eye. I don't know which dog did it. I might have been a joint effort. Either way, when a fuzzy slipper can't see, it might be time to put them both to rest.
Also, Alyson lived with us in early September until heading off to New York for a visit, a road trip west to get her car to the shipping yard, and ultimately to Maui, to live.
Miss you, Pants!
Sonora does too, even though she doesn't realize it.