I peered out the window through bleary eyes while sipping my first cup of coffee and assumed my Bichon Roxy had carried something into the yard from a wastebasket. She has a doggie door. I’ve found socks and other sundry items, including underwear, scattered about our lawn, but it’s been a while.
Later in the day, I looked out from an upstairs window and remembered my early morning sighting. Something strange sat in the middle of our lawn. Although the grass hadn’t greened up its white surface gleamed.
I ran, okay, limped to the back door of the house and slipped on my shoes. Roxy accompanied me as I walked toward the strange shape. Continue reading →
I started writing over four-and-a-half years ago. I had an idea for a non-fiction book, a snarky take on Boulder women. If you’re not familiar with how to assemble a book proposal, non-fiction is skiing down a gentle slope compared to fiction where the writer must plod along the desert and climb craggy mountains with blown out tennis shoes and holes in their socks. I’ll get to that later. At that time, I only needed a query letter, a table of contents, and a few sample chapters. Continue reading →
I’m back in Wisconsin and took these selfies in my parents’ living room. The rectangles in the background are my father’s paintings.
Going home will be like waking from a dream. Flashes of memories will surround me after focused time with my parents. The clarity I have now will dissolve after returning to Boulder. Like most memories, this week will become a blur.
Do your vacations race by? Do you photograph special moments?
Have you noticed your trees, shrubs, and plants perking up after the long winter? Well, some of mine are really stupid.
See that crabapple on the right? It is showing superior intelligence.
Here in Boulder, the month of March is generally our snowiest preceding an April where buds burst into brilliant spring color. But March has been warm; warm like May warm. The weather has the first two letters right, but that’s all. It’s the kind of warm that has butterflies bursting out of chrysalises and Boulderites hitting trails in shorts and T-shirts. Grocery stores are sold out of burgers, hotdogs and buns. Okay. I made that up, but it could happen.Continue reading →
I never noticed how many u’s there are in Chautauqua. Huh.
Oh. Sorry. Hey! How are yah!
Danny and I hiked in a Boulder park where the foothills meet the Flatirons. No they aren’t in an aisle in Target. The Flatirons are flat (yep), rock formations like the underside of an iron. The snow melted in the strong Colorado sunshine and I hoped I wouldn’t go slip sliding away.
This was my first real hike in Boulder since surgeryand I avoided the mud and slippery slush covered trail, big time, skipping over to the grass when I could. My technique was far from the nimble mountain goat and more like someone afraid of stepping on a land mine.
I clowned around while other hikers gave me the hairy eyeball. I have no shame, you know and I thought one of the pictures would make a great new profile picture. Continue reading →
We probably won’t take a vacation until May, so I’ve been drooling over my vacation photos. These are a few I took in California last year. I miss the fresh sea air, the farm-to-table restaurants and the blending of architecture, art, and landscape found at the Getty Museum. I hope to visit again soon.
My daughter, Courtney, gazes at the ocean in Santa Monica.