Snow Days in Colorado

Sledding Day
Above Ouray

This was the week after Christmas, before Dominic had to go back to the seminary and Dan had to go back to work...  I stayed home for this field trip and let them bond, while I took the chance to clean the  Christmas-traumatized house (with noone there to immediately destroy it behind me)...

Here's a shot of the "amphitheater" above the tiny town of Ouray, Colorado.  The sledding gang actually headed to the hills behind the camera person, west of this shot...

Up near these craggy peaks.

So, it seems the gang (Dominic, Michelle, Theresa, Cathy, Anna,
Gabe,  William, and their Dad)  found an unused, uncleared road, near Box Canyon Falls....

"It was so much fun, Mommy!"  "It was perfectly safe, Mom!"  "It was a good spot, dear. Nothing to worry about."
Uhuh.

But, the facts of the field trip came out later, when they admitted it was probably a good thing I didn't go or they'd have ended up sledding on a lump at the playground.  As the details (and the pictures) downloaded, I learned that, for one thing,  there was a street with some traffic on it at the bottom of the hill.  See Dan waaaaay down there?  It was his job to stop the sled as it came flying down toward the road.  Brave man.  Nut.

And there was a steep drop off on one side with a frozen creek down at the bottom of it.  

But, it was all good, Mom!  See?  We made it out alive!
(See the snow-encrusted eyelashes?!  Crazy people!)

And now for your consideration, a wintery poem:

Snowball

by Shel Silverstein

I made myself a snow ball as perfect as could be.
I thought I'd keep it as a pet and let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas and a pillow for it's head.
Then, last night it ran away.
But first -- it wet the bed.

(Heehee!)  Happy snow days, friends!
(This poem was 'specially for you, William and Gabe...)

Sunday Afternoon

Dan is in Denver this week and Michelle and Gabe are still in California, so it's just the five of us here at home: Theresa, Cathy, Anna, William and me.  With so few here, I catch myself looking over my shoulder a lot, feeling like I've lost something - or someone. Mind you, it's not exactly quiet around here (that's simply not possible with William in the house), but there's definitely less milling about of warm bodies going on.  And, as if I hadn't already had trouble adjusting to cooking without teenage boys around, preparing food for only myself and these three birdlike girls and William-who-never-eats is making me crazy. Anybody interested in some really good leftovers? I've got large quantities of spaghetti, bbq pork, pizza, and and chocolate cookie dough just waiting for a big appetite to show up...  Anybody's but mine, that is, because I'm on a diet.

Anyway, I'm glad you stopped by.  Welcome to our house.  Here's a little peek in the window at a slow and lazy Sunday with only 2/5ths of the kids at home.  (This is what you're missing, Dan.  Don't you wish you were here?)

A Musical Walk-through
(With Theresa on Keyboard)





Background Backstories For the Curious:

Flotsam and Jetsam from a Sunday morning.  We call the blue goo foofoo  -- Just the ticket for "slickin" up little boys' hair for Sunday Mass!  (Incidentally, I have no idea why we call it foofoo, except for that my uncle called it that when my brothers were kids.  You don't want to know what he said it was made out of...)



Anna is on a coloring kick, and was especially tickled when Sr. Corinne Marie gave her several coloring pages to take home with her from Saturday's work day at the school.  I don't know about most families, but we go through several different "play phases" every summer.  Some years it's cowboys and Indians followed by marbles or squirt guns; some years it's tea parties, followed by maybe faerie houses or dress-up days. This year, we started out early doing hoola-hoops and kittens,  and now that it's the dog-days of late August and too hot to hoola, the girls are teaching themselves to Irish Step Dance via Yootube lessons, while watching the hummingbirds fight for king of the feeder outside the patio doors -- and we're leaving crayons and markers all over the house. 

 

This year it's all about Nancy Drew.  All three girls (Theresa, Cathy, and Anna) are working their way through my old collection of thirty or so books.  Theresa just finished reading the Owen Francis Dudley series (aka: the Father Dudley books -- you can find Father Dudley's conversion story here!), as well, and is dipping into good ole Don Camillo.  But, Sunday morning is all about the comics.   Part of our conversation today will inevitably get around to a critique of them.  Everyone agrees:  most of them are pretty stupid.  But we all read them, anyway.



Always music of some kind going on in the background here.  If someone doesn't have her personal playlist going, Theresa's at the keyboard.  Right now she's teaching Cathy how to play.  Which suits me fine -- Two for one piano lessons are encouraged in big families, especially.

Not sure whether a couple kids finished a game and didn't re-set up, or William was playing "Guys."  Chess pieces are his Good-Guys vs. Bad-Guys figures of choice these days...



I think the picture tells the tale here.  Are you seeing what I'm seeing? 

Houses

I love to go on rides. Picture me like a puppy with my head out the window, tongue and ears flapping in the wind, drooling at the scenery as it goes by. Though our kids generally beg out when Dan and I go on a Sunday afternoon car tour, when I was little I loved to go with my Mom and Dad on their drives. I loved to look at the trees and hills; I loved to imagine the history of the countryside going by. In Virginia and the Carolinas, it was colonial settlers I'd see riding through the trees on horseback, women in beautiful long gowns, men with muskets. After I read the Tolkien trilogy, I'd picture elves and dwarves hidden in the deep dark forests and along the many riverbanks. Or I'd look for the little red pointed hats of gnomes in the underbrush.

Now that I'm a grown-up driving around Colorado, I imagine grizzled miners on burros winding up the switchbacks, looking for gold.  Or tough pioneer women picking wild flowers in grassy meadows. 
And sometimes I remember to hunt for gnome hats in the aspen groves.  But, more often than not, when I'm not oohing and ahing over the scenery, I'm oohing and ahing over the houses.  There are some amazing places tucked in the arms of the mountains.  And I have terrible house envy sometimes. Check this one out, for instance:

(Click for the big pic!)

Ain't it a beauty?

On its own, it'd be an awesome house plunked down anywhere in the world.  But, check out the view these folks have from their back porch:

(Click for the big pic!)

This beautiful property we found while wandering  down Hidden Valley Road, near Paonia, Colorado -- in the shadow of the West Elk mountain range.   There's property for sale all through this valley, though the house pictured is not on the market...  =sigh=  If it weren't so far from church, I could so live in a place like this...

But, then...  Um... Except for the Minnesota River out the back door and the lack of neighbors and barns and outbuildings....  I guess we do live in a place kinda like this already, don't we?

Home sweet home. 

At least for now.

God is good and we are grateful for a roof over our heads at all.

Praying for the people in Arizona who have lost their homes to fire this week...  Our skies are hazy with the smoke of those forest fires and it's heartbreaking to know the sorrow and loss that dims our sunshine here.  Also remembering those who still suffer from the tragic tornados in Missouri, Georgia, Oklahoma, and Massachusettes.  None of us can never be too secure -- except to hope for our heavenly home someday.

Eye on the Sky...

 And Everything Else!

The view on the way home after a rosary walk Thursday.

(Best when viewed larger.  Click to see the bigger pic!)

For an eye on the sky all over the world today, go check out Skywatch!

Heading out on yet another road trip this afternoon for the much-anticipated wedding of a dear old family friend (a young old friend, mind you -- a beautiful young woman who grew up with our sons!) -- but we'll be back Monday evening. Praying to St. Christopher for a good journey again!  (Do you suppose good St. Chris does frequent traveler miles?)   Here's hoping everyone has a wonderful, safe, and blessed weekend!

April 15th, 2011

Still a little chilly here in the mornings...

(Taken early in the morning, while driving through Shavano Valley, near Montrose, CO)

All Aboard!

* This is a repost for my pal,  Mighty Mom.  I had posted it briefly about a month ago, then took it off because I wanted to spend some time editing it.  But... Time?  What time?  Haven't had any....  So..  Anyway, here it is again - undedited -- for anyone else who might want to read more than they ever wanted to know about train travel!

From the end of February, 2011:  I mentioned I had some pictures -- and a little gossip -- from my latest train ride over the mountains a couple weeks ago, so if you're all set  to come along with me... Here we go!

First a view of the inside of my train car: 

How the trains work:  When you buy your ticket at the depot, you're assigned a train car (if you aren't in a sleeper), but you can choose your own seat in the car -- on the upper level, separate from the sleepers.  You stake your territory, as shown above, by putting your ticket over your seat near your overhead rack area.  The tickets are color-coded to indicate your stop -- so if someone's snoozing, the conductor can make a quick tour of the car and quickly identify who he needs to wake up before a stop.  If the other passengers haven't already done that for him.

Train travelers are amazingly companionable folks.  I've had many a lively conversation with my car-mates, though I've never had to share my seat space.  There are two seats on each side of the aisle and most people traveling alone claim two seats together if they can.  I'm told that during busy times of year, like around Christmas, and in between certain stops, like Reno and San Francisco, the train can get pretty full, however, and lone travelers don't get to be 'lone.

Still, even with a seat companion, compared to a plane or bus, train seats (cross-country, mind you!) are very roomy and comfortable. I'm sorry I didn't think to get a good picture of the set up, so I could show you how cushy it is.  The seats all recline pretty far back and have foot rests that pop out like a recliner.  There's also a pull down tray, like in airplanes -- but there's so much room between where you sit and the seat in front of you that you have to lean pretty far forward to use it. Given that fact, you can imagine that there's TONS of leg room - or room for whatever you want to put at your feet -- all your luggage, for instance -- which is what I do.  Plus there's a lot of room between the two seats on each side of the aisle, with armrests that fold up so you can turn sideways if you like and put your feet up on both seats.

The luggage specs on Amtrak are very different from airline travel, too.  Each passenger is allowed three checked-in bags of 50 lbs or less, plus two carry-ons, also 50 lbs or less -- besides any purse,  laptop, baby bag and/or medical equipment. And you aren't charged for anything you bring on within that limit.   Most people, especially on the day routes, don't check luggage,  and I think I'd avoid it if I could even on a longer route, because, once checked, your bags are just stuffed in some open bins inside the door of one of the cars; you can go and get it or get something out of it any time you like -- which is good and bad.  It's convenient that things are so simple and accessible, but then dangerous, perhaps, that things are so simple and accessible.  Anyone who wanted to steal your luggage could do so with little trouble.  Anyone who wanted to plant a bomb in a bag on a train and then just walk away could do so with basically no checkpoints or resistance.  But, I don't think that would happen.  Train folks are incredibly nice for the most part.  And why would anyone want to blow up a train? (If you have a reason, don't tell me, OK?)

Interesting fact:  Most trains let you check on a bike if you like, at no extra charge if it's within your luggage limit.

On one trip across the mountains last year I ended up in a car with a young mother and her two little girls.  The momma was overwhelmed and exasperated after having traveled all night from Omaha before meeting up with the Denver crowd heading to California, her ultimate destination.  Somehow or other, the little girls ended up spending more time with me than their mother - which was ok.  We did origami and drew pictures and talked about cows and birds and why not to throw pieces of paper at the other passengers.  And their momma took a nap.  This sort of thing is somewhat common on the train in my experience.  Most everyone tries to help out with youngin's -- and most everyone is sympathetic when they're out of sorts.  The only time folks really fuss is when the parents just let the kid run wild all over the train.  That's annoying.  But you rarely see it, as the conductor patrols the cars making sure that it doesn't.

Interesting fact:  This young mother's littlest girl had a "diaper explosion" incident and was able to get into her checked luggage for a change of clothes, got a mercy "cut" into the sign up sheet for a shower.  Since the Zephyr serves 32 depot stations, spanning seven states beginning in Chicago and ending in California, it provides showers for those passengers whose trips are over several days.



On the way out of Denver, heading west, the train passes the "Big 10 Curve.” Winds can be so strong here that" hopper cars," welded to the rails and filled with sand, sit on an adjacent track to act as a windbreak.



Here's something that was annoying, though.  On my last trip there was a college-age young man who talked to his mother on the cell phone -- incessently.  And loudly.  And the discussions -- every one of them -- were whiny and obnoxious.  I wanted to turn around and slap the kid.  It seems his estranged father owed him some kind of "child support" money to help ease his way in college and he hadn't received the check.  He wanted his mother to get ahold of his dad, her ex-husband, and make him send money.  She wanted him to take care of it, himself.  You should have heard his end of the debate.  (Heaven knows the whole train heard it!)  The kid was even pulling out the alligator tears to twist his mother's arm. And then he'd instantly switch gears and yell at her!  Every couple of hours the whole long ride, either he called her to whine, or his mother called him to complain.  I could have choked that boy!  And then reached into his cell phone and choked his mother!  Argh. 

But, the conversations that predominate on the journey really are not normally so irritating. They're usually pretty stimulating, always friendly, and sometimes side-splittingly funny.  Though I didn't paticipate in it ( I didn't dare!  And it was just too much fun eavesdropping...)  -- there was a long and engrossing discussion going on behind me one train ride, debating the plausibility of just about every social issue and conspiracy theory you can name.  By the time I got off the train, a college age threesome, the grandparents across from them, and the guy with MS across from me had come to the conclusion that:

1.  Bush was not necessarily involved with the 9-11 attack, but he may have known it was coming.

2.  The worst thing that ever happened to America was the welfare system because it made people think they were entitled to things they didn't work for.  (This coming from a group of people most probably in the lowest rung of America's economic ladder, mind you!)

3.  College is not an entitlement.

4.   All the Middle East has to do to completely cripple America is to stop selling us oil.

5.  Flavored coffee grounds aren't as good as flavored creamer.

~ And lots more, let me tell ya!  This is just a sample....



Rounding corner after corner, the Zephyr climbs into the mountains, passing through countless little tunnels, then reaching the Continental Divide, it passes over to the western side through 6.2 mile long Moffat Tunnel.



.



All the rivers and lakes are still frozen solid in the high country. 



Interesting Fact:  Because the Zephyr is a cross-country train, it has beautifully complete accomodations for dining.  There is both a dining car and a sight-seer lounge and cafe. An hour or so ahead of the "dinner hour" ,when the Service Attendant comes around with his clipboard. passengers sign up for dining car space.  In order to make best use of space, you can't reserve your own table, but share with whoever else signed up for your hour.  The sight-seer lounge is located on the upper deck of the train and is completely surrounded with windows, clear up onto the ceiling.  The views from this car are amazing!  There is a cafe just below the lounge, where sandwiches, drinks and snacks can be purchased throughout the journey.

Interesting Fact Joke:  The entire California Zephyr trip from Chicago to California is listed as taking 51 hours and 20 minutes.  Maybe possible.  (But probably not.)



Winter Park, Colorado, outside of Fraser has a long-standing argument with Alma, Colorado about which town is the highest incorporated municipality in America.  One moniker that Winter Park can claim, though, is the "Ice Box of America," as tempuratures of -50 are common there in the winter.



I've never taken a train trip that both arrived and left on time.  This last trip, we were delayed two hours getting out of Denver because of a death on the train.  (I never did find out any more about that.... Like, was there foul play?  Any scary suspense music in the background when the conductor came across the corpse? Was Jessica Fletcher on board?)  But, anyway, other than the occasional untoward event, there are always strange, unscheduled little  stoppages. They're expected.  

This last trip, along with the late start, we had an hour's delay near Rollins Pass while we waited for some other train to pass by before we could continue. But, what the hey?  It's all in a day's train travel. I've never heard grumbling or whining among the passengers about delays; folks that sign on to ride the train know what they're in for...  And anyone who knows anything about trains has plenty of reading material, sodukus, crossword puzzles, knitting, etc... 

All that and most everyone brings a good relaxed attitude.



Check out the cool effect of the skier jumping behind the netting.  Click to enlarge if it's hard to see.  See her pigtails flying? :)



This looks like a lake, but it's actually a very large  field of snow.

 


Granby, Colorado, I think.



Interesting Fact:  A coach class ticket (purchased now to travel tomorrow)  from Denver, CO to Emeryville, CA -- one way --  runs  $245 -- and takes 33 hours and five minues (give or take a few hours...). 

It's another $261 for a "roomette" which features two single bed,  bunk style, two reclining chairs, and no bathroom, but meals are included -- along with a daily paper.  A "superliner" room features  a bunk with a full lower, a large couch and complete bathroom with a shower and all meals included and delivered. For $707.

For the full trip, from Chicago, IL to Emeryville, CA, coach, you'd pay only $292!   For a superliner room, it'd be another $1433.  A bargain, huh?


Mountains and snow.  Passed lots and lots of mountains and snow.

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And cows.  Lots of cows in Colorado.



Smoking, of course, is not permitted on the train, so whenever it's time for a station stop (which is about three times, I think, between Denver and Grand Junction), all the smokers stampede for the doors to stand on the platform and smoke.  They are warned continuously, via the loudspeaker, not to light up on board, and are re-warned when they get back on after station stops to not bring their cigarettes back on the train with them.  Once, when we were stopped on top of the mountain for over an hour for no apparent reason, it was obvious that some smoker's nicotine withdrawal had gotten the best of him, as the distinct smell of cigarette smoke wafted up to the upper cars through the stairwell outside the bathroom down below. 

 Everyone looked at each other and smiled knowingly and there was some laughing and giggling, because we all knew who the culprit was...  There was a gentleman with a long braided ponytail and a duster coat who'd gotten on in Denver when I did.   He was a very pleasant, "down home" kind of guy, with a two-pack a day habit -- one of the ones that barreled down the aisles whenever the train came to a full stop so he could puff down a cigarette or two while he had a chance.  Having been several hours between stops, there was no question in our minds who was in the bathroom sneaking a smoke.  And, well, I guess it was no surprise, a train being a very small space, that the conductor "got wind" of the smoke too. It wasn't long before we all heard an impatient voice over the loud speaker:  "There is to be NO smoking on board the train!  Anyone who is smoking will be removed from the train.  Right here.  Right now!" 

Pause---

(Remember, we were in the wilderness on top of a mountain)

"And we know who you are!"

About this time the pleasant, ponytailed gentleman came sauntering up the stairs. Smoke still hung about him.  He  started to head to the frontof the car toward his seat, but when he heard the snickering behind him, he turned around toward us and affected a very elaborate bow. Everyone applauded. 

Not that I condone smoking, mind you.  On the contrary.  But, I have to admit I admired the twinkle in "Ponytail's" eye. And it was a distraction we all appreciated.  



God is a wonderful landscape artist.  I should say He is thee Landscape Artist.



So, anyway, here we are at the end of the tracks.  The Zephyr stops in Grand Junction at a little old, antique railway station (that I dearly wish they had the money to restore!).  Unlike the other stops on my route, this station stop has a gift shop and a restaurant attached to it, the Pufferbelly.  According to Davis family legend, our oldest daughter, Michelle, got her nickname, "Chicky" from a waitress at the Pufferbelly.  But I digress.  Though I enjoy stopping at this station for its extra amenities, what I love best is that my family can come running out onto the platform alongside the tracks and surround me with hugs and kisses the minute I step off the train.  My welcoming committee.  Don't get that at the airport!

Hope y'all enjoyed the journey.  As you know, I always do! 

Outside My Window

7:15 a.m.

Open to Walkers

How About Slip-and-Sliders?

Photo by Dominic;

Stunts by yours-truly;

Landscaping by God.

Lots To Share

Are you in a comfy chair?

First of all, sorry for the unexpected bloggy absence! Our computer (which should be collecting social security) finally bit the dust and the little old laptop I'm typing on right now is no spring chicken, either.  Before the last couple days, it was basically unusable due to a very annoying virus in which the screen was blocked by pop-ups every ten seconds. Erg. But, it looks like Dan's fixes have finally taken hold and I can at least type away on here unmolested for a while.  But, I can't download pictures onto this thing, unfortunately -- and there are lots of pictures I'd like to share.

There's a Lot going on around here!  Oh, my gosh, where do I start?

Let's see...  The children are all doing great in school.  They love their teachers, all Sisters except for Mrs. Medina, and Anna says, "She's the bomb."  (Funny how the vocabulary of my last five children is so different from my first five, isn't it?)  The girls ride their bikes to school and back most days, taking a seldom used service road between the hay fields.  To the delight of the school children, our lab mix, Noey, has taken to following the kids to school every day.  She's become somewhat of a mascot; the Sisters even get her to sit at attention during the pledge of allegiance.  (One of those things I need to post a picture of!)

I'm tutoring a delightful young man four mornings a week in high school English (Grammar and Comp).  He has Asperger's Syndrome and is an amazing and wonderful person -- so incredibly smart, but with challenges to overcome that make our mornings both fun and stimulating.  On Fridays I get to teach art to the school children in bunches, starting with the K-2, then 3-5, then 6-8.  This job is totally a blast for me -- fun, fun, fun!  Here's a funny thing, though.  My K-2 children, without fail, finish their projects more quickly than the older kids. You can guess why I bet. It's such a hoot to watch how the kids approach things, relative to their age and maturity.  The Littles have no fear of something new and just jump right into it with no worry about how it'll come out; the Big Kids have to have it explained, then detailed, then explained again and then they carefully set. about. completing. the task.  And, of course their outcomes are more precise and conventional and really beautiful.  But I have a special place in my heart for those free-wheelin' Kindergarteners' work.  :o)

So, let me think...  What else is new?  Oh, yes, of course, the really big news:  We're getting milking cows!  You remember for years we had dairy goats -- and hens, and pigs, etc.  And we did do beef cows a couple of times -- without good results...  Have I told you the story of Victoria, the Angus who jumped over the moon?  Or have I painted the picture of my four boys crisscrossing the prairie hither and yon, up hills and down, sillhouetted on the horizon, one son, lasso ready, sitting on the hood of our old c. 1979 Ford truck, chasing after a stubborn brown cow with a wicked sense of humor? Those were the days...  =sigh=  And I thought they were days best relegated to fond memories...  I thought we'd just keep a few hens and a good, big garden, in these the latter days of our child raising.  I mean, well, the big boys are grown and moved away.  It's just me and the three little girls and the two littlest boys.  Dan's around, but he's very involved in his start-up business and all...  So we were going to hang up our milk pails and muckin shovels.

Until...

I saw an ad on Craigslist.  Why was I looking?  I 'm not sure I can tell you.  But, there I was, and there was the ad: Three Dexter Cattle, 3-year-old milker, 1-year heifer, 4 mo old steer calf.  $900. 

All three for only $900?  And here we are with a big retirement pay-out, fifteen acres of beautiful irrigated hay right out our door, and a big beautiful barn just waiting for useful employment.  And the memory of that fresh, healthful milk and the satisfaction of the self-sufficiency of it washing over me like a crisp autumn breeze surprising an Indian Summer afternoon. But... why so inexpensive?  The milker, alone, should go for well over a thousand bucks!  And Dexter cattle?  What the heck are Dexter cattle? 

Well, we corresponded with the owner, and drove over the San Juans to meet her and the cows.  She (the owner, who, by the way, was the most elegantly beautiful woman I have ever seen in mucky corduroys and work gloves) is selling them cheap because she hasn't handled them much and the heifer, especially, is pretty wild and unused to handling -- and she just wanted them outta her hair, as she's found she prefers milking goats, and she doesn't want to deal with that danged heifer who broke out of her fence and moseyed up to a bull on a neighboring property -- wherein we all surmise that said heifer is, as we say, likely "exposed," and could present with a calf in seven or eight months or so. 

And Dexters -- Here's the best part! -- are an heirloom Irish cow.  They're the smallest cow that has not been purposely bred down for size, and were traditionally used as Irish family cows, because of their hardiness and dual (actually three) purpose characteristics: they're good for milk, meat, and can be used as oxen.  Could we find something more perfect?  Now, will we actually be able to handle these half wild cows and will they let us milk them?  That's a whole other question...  (Pray for us, will ya?)

But, we did buy them, and the sweet owner said she'd keep them for us until the middle of September, so we could get ready for them.  So, the last couple of weeks we've been all in a dither, psyching up and preparing for cows.  I have been what you might call "immersing" myself in the bovine world, joining
Dexter internet societies and various cow forums (I love one I found call Keeping Milk Cows.  I've learned tons there!).  And Dan's been fitting our barn with proper stalls and a milk parlour and installing electric fencing, etc...  We're picking the girls and the calf up tomorrow, so weve had to hurry to get everything ready.  The girls are being fabulous helpers with all the fencing and collecting recipes that'll be especialy good with fresh cream...

But, unfortunately, I haven't been much real physical help with all the hard labor (and I have terrible guilt about it), because I just found out a couple weeks ago the root of the back problems I've been having for some years now.  I have degenerative disk disease.   Which stinks.  But, by the grace of God, I happened to land in a place where practices one of only two certified practicioners of a very successful chiropractic technique for this condition (the Cox technique). Which is awesome.  We're very hopeful that, not only can we put an end to the chronic back pain, but reverse at least some of the damage, and end or at least slow the progress of the degeneration.  So, it's all good.  At least now I know what the problem is and have a plan to work it out.  But...  I can't lift hay bales, and my doc says I can only milk if I dig a hole to sit in or put the cow on a ramp so I don't have to bend over to reach her udder.  Ah, well...  We'll figure that out.  (Get this.  He says I can't read, either, if it means I have to bend my neck forward.  Seriously.  Don't you think I'll find a creative solution to that restriction!  Not read?  Might as well not breathe!)

Anyway....  There may be more to tell, but I think I've bored y'all long enough!  That is, if anyone's even made it this far?  (Anyone?  Anyone?)  

But, one more thing, anyone who made it this far...  Dan is ostensibly ordering a new computer here soon.  He wants to know if I want a laptop or a desk top.  I  can't decide...  He says we'll get more for the money with the desk top, but lose the convenience, obviously, of the laptop...  I can't decide.  What do you think?  Regardless, I'll be so happy to have access to pictures again.  I have lots to show you!

Happy September!  (One of the best months of the year!)  Happy Birthday of Our Glorious Heavenly Mother today!  And, then the feast of her Holy Name is Sunday!  (Feasts of the Blessed Mother always fill my heart with a special happiness.)  And, I've always felt a particular honor to have my birthday snuggled up in between these two feastdays, on the 11th.  Special greetings to my beloved mother on my birthday.  ( I always thought it was the mom who should get the glory, honor and gifts on birthdays...)

Hopefully be able to get on again soon!  (Maybe even on a new computer!  Maybe even with pictures!)

Blessings to all!

Outing At Land's End

More August Adventures

The view from our great room windows looks out onto the Grand Mesa north of us.  It's about a forty-five minute drive from here, through vast fields of corn and through the tiny town of Delta (where I need to go take you on a walking tour with my camera because Delta is known as the mural town -- and it's the sweetest little spot just about anywhere...).  Anyway, the Grand Mesa fills the northern landscape of this valley; it's  the largest mesa in the world and  is covered with lakes and deer-filled forests of pine and aspen.  It's a sportsman's paradise and a hiker's dream. 

Michelle and I spent most of our day together last Wednesday shopping.  (Well, of course!)  She's taking her sophomore year, boarding at Catholic school in Omaha -- where her three older brothers have also gone -- and a girl can't go off to school for a year and without starting off with some serious shopping.  But we had to get a little hike in, too.  So, after a little coffee at Mocha Joe's, we made our way north to Grand Mesa, getting only a little side-tracked by a thrift store and antique mall in Cedaredge (a cute little town half way up the mesa)...  Before we got going the rest of the way up the hill to the top of Grand Mesa.  And then we wound our way over to the northwestern side of the flat top mountain to an area known as Land's End. 

Here's what it looks like at Land's End: 

Here's sweet Shelly, hiking and shopping buddy par excellence.

And here I am.

We ended the day with more shopping in "town" (Grand Junction), dinner at Red Robin, and a movie over by the mall.  (We saw The Sorceror's Apprentice again because Shell hadn't seen it.)  It was a perfect day.  I'm going to miss my big little girl. 

These outings with my big kids always bring home to me the amazing and wonderful fact of their individual personhood.  You know what I mean?  As a homeschool mother, I know pretty much what all the influences have been in my children's lives up until they sidle (or burst!) out into the world when we send them forward into their high school education with the priests and Sisters.  No questioning the fact that most of the influences of their lives have been mine -- and resources of my choosing.  But their agile young brains and their God given talents and personalities combine in different ways, such that each of the children turns out to be completely unique and sometimes delightfully surprising.  The facts they combine for novel thoughts and goofy jokes, a different shade in an outlook,  a novel form of expression, a twinkle in an eye, a bow of the head...  They are all so different.  It's one of the greatest pleasures of my life being re-introduced to my children as they grow bit by bit into adulthood.  What a trip.