Time To Cut....

It's official, I am voting early. Tomorrow, to be exact. Not what I was expecting, but it's either that, or let my voice be silent and figure out how to keep my mouth shut for 4 years. I refuse the latter (I certainly didn't put my time into a job I loved under a "boss" I couldn't stand just to let my right to vote pass me by), so I figure out some time to plant my behind in a voting booth tomorrow afternoon.

I fully thought I'd cast my ballot on Election Day, which, of course, is Tuesday, November 4. That's going to be impossible since I'll be finding myself in a hospital bed. My surgery is scheduled and everything is set for the procedure to begin at 1030. I'm anxious to (hopefully) be free from the pain that's plagued me for over 2 years, but I'm also nervous because any surgery comes with the fact it's not foolproof. Nor am I looking forward to having to actually get up and walk around before coming home on Wednesday since I'm having something a little extensive.

It was about a year ago that I started actually feeling the gallbladder problem. At that time I figured it would need to come out. Not a big deal. What I didn't exactly bank on, even after the 7-months it took for the stellar doctors in Pueblo County to figure out a) I wasn't lying about what I was feeling and what tests wouldn't actually show something, b) that the gallbladder actually was sick and in need of coming out, was that the other issues I'd been dealing with since Luke was born (probably longer, just aggravated by actually having a baby) would leave me needing further surgery. Don't get me wrong, the doctors here seem to have a great handle on other things, but when it comes to gallbladders they seem clueless (not just my case, trust me).

The gallbladder will have company on Tuesday. I have been in a varying degree of pain in another part of my body since June of 2006. After trying a multitude of treatments, and the the idea of waiting for the body to feel better, the decision came that something permanent needed to be do. So, I am also having a hysterectomy. One ovary will remain, but the rest is leaving my body. I am so VERY grateful for the sweet child God saw fit to give me, and I am sad that he'll be the only living child from my body. But I am also grateful that the lessons from his birth have been taken seriously and my doctor is so patient with me.

I was given the liberty of waiting until summer was over, something I am so happy about that I could spit. I just couldn't think of spending the warm months sitting in my house and unable to do anything. I do that enough in winter, why couldn't I at least be healing? The initial surgeon agreed. That left only the decision of where to have the surgery, and who would be doing it. If I stayed close to home, I would have to establish a relationship with an obstetric doctor who wouldn't know my history. If I went to Colorado Springs, I would have to find a new general surgeon. Springs won out.

So, Tuesday I will be watching the election results from a bed in the hospital where my son was born. I admit that I don't know I'll even have a clue about things until later, what with anesthesia and pain meds, but I do know it will be my first night away from my baby boy. That's what I am so nervous about. The good thing is that he'll have his doting grandmother and his favorite person in the world (Daddy) here with him.

And, with that, I am off to bed. Rest assured this is extensive, but a great thing for all of us....

Boo At The Zoo!

This is the time of year I enjoy for baking and acting foolish. Baking? Why, yes!

I love pumpkins, and all the things I can make from them. In this inaugural year of the garden in Pueblo West, my pumpkins were a bumper crop. I was able to harvest a dozen of them, sacrificing one to the birds who couldn't resist while it was still green (it ended up growing and ripening, but the birds did enough damage that they can have that one). That's pretty darned good for the size of my garden! I have a plethora of recipes from the Amish in Pennsylvania and Ohio (some were actually given to me by the family I bought my eggs, bread, and some items of tack from) and you'd better believe I put them to good use! There is one recipe that is mine, a pumpkin cheesecake that took me a while to perfect, but the rest is from them. I have already put the pumpkin chocolate chip cookie recipe to good use. Tonight my home is filled with the spicy-sweet scent of maple pumpkin bread. Three loaves! Not bad for one pumpkin. This weekend I hope to get a batch of pumpkin butter made and canned, and maybe prepare and freeze some of my orange wonder-squash for use over the holiday season. It's just so not the same to use the store bought canned stuff. I suddenly have a hankering to make pumpkin whoopie pies, so maybe that is what I'll do for the neighborhood Christmas gift this year. Something quite unique to one group of people that I can share with another.

Then there is the acting foolish thing. It's not as bad as it sounds, it's just the moment when everyone, adults included, can dress up as something they aren't and have a little fun doing so. The fact I have a little one to share this goofiness with is what makes it so darned fun for me. The Cheyenne Mountain Zoo participates in the Boo At The Zoo program, though we skipped it last year and Luke was too young the year before. For those who are unaware, Cheyenne Mountain is where NORAD (North American Aerospace Defense) is based. The zoo was established in the late 1800's by a Spencer Penrose, who made a fortune in gold mining near Cripple Creek. It is literally on the side of the mountain, above the foothills, and it's a great workout for parents and kids who can walk! That location also makes it a rather cool spot, temperature wise. Hence the reason I declined to take a 4-month old baby a couple of years ago.
This year, however, it was a go. I had planned on taking him, anyway, but a friend who was hoping to come to our house and an attraction in Pueblo had to change plans and said "why don't we go tonight?" Luke was adamant he didn't want to dress up, had daddy on his side, and I didn't push the issue, so we ate a quick dinner and made the 45-minute drive. Being that it was in the mid-3o's, the costume would've been covered by his coat, anyway. I just told everyone we were football fans who left a game (which we did...on TV) to do a little gazing at some night creatures. It got giggles.

Upon entry we ran into a Star Wars fan club. Most were in Storm Trooper uniforms, but we also saw Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker, various bounty hunters, and other characters that would take too long to mention. Given that my brother is the biggest fan out there and gushed over our choice of name for our son (Lucas reminds him of George Lucas, Luke is Luke Skywalker, of course), I couldn't resist. Poor Luke was less than amused. He kept a watchful eye but didn't seem to be too bothered. That was fine, until they started talking to him. Oh, the tears! He was scared! They were authentic costumes, which means they had that electronic voice from a microphone inside. He didn't think that was cool.

But he did like the mounds of candy handed to him. He was trying to two-fist it for a while, but was unsuccessful. He laughed at the kids who were goofing off, pointed out the ghosts and lights, exclaimed when he spotted the ponies, looked for the lions (they were out and awake, but a little hard to see for a 2-yr old), and let me know he is still not sure about touching or feeding the tall giraffes (he'd rather just watch them right now....no problem, I'll feed 'em!).

As we left we took a group picture with the Storm Troopers again. Luke immediately started crying, but sat still until we took the pictures. He calmed right down once away from the clamor of the photo opportunity. We went to the cars and prepared for the drive home.

Just as we were preparing to leave we had a visitor! I wish I could've taken some better pictures of him (her?), but we were all trying to not freak the poor visitor to the point of galloping away in sheer terror. A red fox decided to canvas the parking lot for trash and found itself between our two cars, just inches from 7 humans! It finally realized and dashed away, but oh what a sight! I love those creatures, just a classy looking animal that is so very smart. Loyal, too, when given the chance (just ask Red, who befriended a girl red fox when we moved here. We haven't seen her since the property she kept her den on had a family move in. I miss her and the visits she gave my dear dog in the backyard).

Luke will dress up in a few days, and so will I. Until then, we'll remember the animals who stayed awake to watch the crazy humans wander their home.....

Godspeed, Dearest Paco...

We received word today that our dear little friend, Paco, has crossed the rainbow bridge. He's such a special boy, and I'm both happy and sad about the news.

Paco came to us in the fall of 1999 when Jeff was looking for a new roping horse. We had decided not to bring his now 26-yr old gelding down to our place for a variety of reasons, and a friend suggested Jeff try this little guy. We met the owner at a roping, watched him go, then gave him a try. Jeff threw a few loops off of him, hitting each time. He liked him, but valued my opinion. I hopped on his back and tried him out in the rodeo version of a warm-up ring. He was solid as a rock, comfortable, clearly very smart, and I knew I wanted him. We sealed the deal and arranged for me to pick him up a few days later.

On the way home we discussed how small he was, but how excited we were because we truly felt he'd be the perfect partner for Jeff. Besides, as a heel horse, small was okay. Jeff was preparing to go out of town for a month, and I was secretly thrilled because it meant that I could bond with the little chestnut grade Quarter Horse we had just purchased.

As we were still looking for a trailer to buy, I had to ask the friend who suggested the horse to help me pick him up. He gamely agreed and off we went to get this little treasure. I felt silly because I remembered his face, but the body looked completely different. The owner made it home just after we arrived and assured me it was the same horse, but I was a little surprised that he was actually a grade Appaloosa with a roan blanket. I didn't care, but hoped Jeff would still be pleased because Appies aren't his favorite. It ended up taking us 2 hours and a kick to my shin by another horse to catch this guy...I was less than amused. Turns out he wasn't so fond of humans, so he'd run when they first showed up. Once caught, he was fantastic in manners.....but aloof. Anyway, he loaded with no problem and we were on our way home.

It was only a matter of a few days before I gained the trust & heart of this horse. Turns out he loved candy. For whatever reason, I happened to have some on me one day, so I offered it to him. From that moment on, Paco regarded me as the lady with the sweet stuff he loved so much. He came running TO me whenever I appeared. Hey, whatever works! It was at this time I decided he needed a new name.

Now, I am one who fervently believes it is bad luck to rename a horse when you take ownership. In this case, however, I made an exception. You see, Paco came into his previous owner's hands via some very good luck. The guy went to the auction to buy a couple of resale projects and saw Paco as he was leaving the ring...too late. He saw something special in the horse, though, so he searched down the buyer. He bought Paco on the spot and had him unloaded from the truck, which required moving a couple of other horses around. Paco must have known his luck because he literally had his life saved that day. The truck he was removed from was the kill-buyer's rig. The kill-buyer made a profit, so he was happy, but the other animals suffered a fate that gives me nightmares. They were shipped to the Dallas-Crown slaughterhouse, an equine slaughterhouse that I am glad is no longer in operation. I visited that site and had a tour after Paco had joined our family, and I am thankful my sweet little gelding never set foot there. (just to clear the record, they were professional and good people, but the entry process, while the standard for all large livestock, was unacceptable for equines, in my opinion. But I'm grateful they were so open and kind to me, and I didn't criticize them.)

Anyway, Paco was immediately name "Taco" by his new owner. It was a bit of a joke. "Well, he almost became the main ingredient for a taco, so I decided that's what I'd call him." I thought he needed better, so I told Jeff I changed his name to "Paco." He laughed at me, but said it was fine.

Paco was barely a horse, standing at 14.3 hands high, (a pony tops out at 14.2 hands high), but he had a huge heart. Once he realized he had a good and loving home, he opened up. He loved to just be loved on. He relished having baths. He fell asleep when I pulled his mane. He pushed into the clippers when they appeared anywhere near him. He would kneel down to make mounting for a ride easier (for me...I think he knew Jeff was bigger and didn't care if he had to make more of an effort), something he just did one day. I took him for a bareback ride and thought he had either fallen or had something wrong when I went to climb on the gate to swing my leg over. Paco just pushed his right leg out, went down on his left knee and waited. I finally got what he was doing and laughed as I stepped over his back and he popped up. He subsequently did this every single time I went to ride him. Nobody taught him, he was just a smart gentleman.

He is the first, and only, horse who came into my house. I had him in my backyard to let him have his grazing time and not have to worry about being beaten up by my mare (she is the Alpha mare and was rather rough on him), he came to the window of the laundry room when he saw me, so I opened my back door to say hi to him. The phone rang and I thought nothing of leaving the door open as I dashed into my bedroom, which was connected to the laundry room, and grabbed it. I nearly died when I turned around and saw Paco in my room with me. I think the only reason he didn't fall through the floor was because he was small and weighed less than 1000lbs. I made sure to close the door after that, no matter what.

Jeff and Paco had this really cool bond, too, and they moved almost as one in the ring. More than once I saw Jeff drop the reins and just focus on getting a rope on the heels of a steer while Paco did exactly what he was there to do. The only time the reins were actually needed was when Jeff had dallied and needed that very quick stop for the timer. Others tried him, too, and thought he was great. There was one guy, though, that Paco made clear was hated. Paco immediately pinned his ears when this guy sat his butt in the saddle. He backed into the box and got that serious look, but never stopped his tail from wringing. When the steer broke, so did Paco. He bucked, and bucked, and easily could have been a bronc! Others laughed, I was internally gleeful (because this guy needed to be brought down a few notches), though surprised, and Jeff was horrifically shocked. This guy hit the dirt in a heap, throwing a HUGE cloud of dust in the air, and Paco immediately stopped. He stood looking at him with that "I dare you to get on me again" look, but went to the "Hi dad! Let's go play" look when Jeff went to check on the guy. He was fine, just a bruised ego. He never even tried to pet Paco ever again. Paco never bucked again. The former owner was there and stated he'd never known Paco even knew what a buck was, but thought it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen a roping horse do.

Paco suffered a blistered tendon at a roping one evening when the footing, or dirt, in the arena was not only wetter than it should have been, but ridiculously deep. I heard later he was not the only one lamed at the event. He spent about 2 weeks in a gel cast, and a month on stall rest with a small hand walk each evening before we could start light work again. Our vet "prescribed" a certain style of splint boot to be worn each ride for him, and he did fine. When we moved from Texas, Paco went to a close friend who also team ropes. He was instructed to use the boots, but didn't. We don't even know what happened to them. Not surprisingly, Paco became unsound and was no longer able to do his job, so they asked us to move him. We discussed the options, and Jeff decided to sell him. Very shortly after the decision was made, a friend of ours here in Colorado mentioned his sister was looking for a horse.

Serena and her husband have a church camp/ranch just outside of San Antonio, and they keep an eye out for safe trail horses. Paco fit the bill, and he'd still be doing an important job that he was good at. All he had to do was walk along the trail once a day during the summer and make a kiddo smile. Perfect! We knew that it was a great (and I mean great) home and that he'd be properly cared for, so we donated him. They loved him. Paco became a favorite, and the one they would put the most timid of riders on.

A couple of months ago we received word that he wasn't being used too often because he had become extremely arthritic. He was finding it harder and harder to get up, so he spent many hours grazing while laying sternal....in and out of the stall. They were watching him closely, but he was obviously happy. Last week that changed when he made it clear he was in too much pain and couldn't do it any longer. He was euthanized late in the week and the approximate age of 16.

So, you see, I am very sad because I loved him so much. He saw me through some incredibly tough times just as tenderly as (though differently than) my my mare. He took care of my husband through those times, as well. He gave me giggles that turned to tears of belly laughter. He gave me hugs each time I was near him (literal hugs, the neck curl kind). He greeted me with a nicker each morning, and a gallop to be first to the gate each night. I will miss him so very much.

I am also very happy because he had a wonderful life, one that he was nearly robbed of. He gave a number of children some great memories and lessons over the last 2 years. He was loved by many people, big and small. He returned that love in a most generous way. He was given the proper end, just as he deserved. He was happy. And he is now reunited with his best friend from many years ago: our dog, Jake. That alone makes me smile....

Much Better....

Things have calmed a little bit. I can't believe I'm doing so terribly awful with school, but I knew that full-time with a toddler and family responsibilities wouldn't work. Plans ended up being crazy for this semester. I have a new game plan (speaking of, I need to get that stupid thing down on paper for a class.....yippee), and that part of my life should improve a bit next semester. Even if it means I have to retake a class from this semester.

My surgery is tentatively scheduled for November 4th. THAT will help immensely! I have decided it is much easier to live life and make decisions when you aren't in a constant state of pain. I'm beyond grateful that I had my summer months to enjoy, but am now ready to go under the knife.

As for Luke? Well, he wasn't throwing fits, which Jeff and I knew. Everyone else thought that *could* be what was going on, but it wasn't. We knew all along. I finally ended up calling and talking to his pediatrician. The child had no fever (which, really, is not surprising. He is, afterall, my child. I'll explain later), was eating, though it wasn't much, was drinking fine, but was not himself. He'd go about his day in a normal fashion, but have moments when he'd just stop, sit on the floor and start scream-crying. Sometimes it was for about 10 minutes, sometimes it was for hours. Nothing we did helped. And it would happen at night. He'd sleep for a bit, then wake up crying for a long while. We were all tired! Anyway, the pediatrician felt that he must have had a mild case of a stomach bug that's apparently going around. The older kids have been able to express that it is very painful and can knock them down for hours at a time. Luke didn't have the results of this bug in his pull-ups, but he did have the occasional, shall we say, sounds and smells of it. He's been MUCH better the last couple of days. Eating like a horse (which is his norm), giggling, playing like a maniac, and sleeping well. Tears only come when he manages to run too fast and hit the wall, or something.

I do feel for him, though. My sister-in-law has stated that her oldest boy keeps asking to play with us. Luke does the same. He is constantly asking about JT, and "Kirsay," (Kristen) and Ryan. He brings their picture to us and tells us all about them. He sees a vehicle like they rented in Utah and says "Momma, JT!" He so badly wants them. It makes me sad, but also happy that he loves them so much.

The fever thing....my mom and I only develop fevers when we're either really, really sick, or when we're literally on our death bed. I mean literally. I didn't develop a fever with my e-coli infection until the hospital staff was sure I wouldn't live. My mom didn't develop a fever when she had appendicitis until after her surgery....which occurred 8 days after the thing ruptured....and the doctor gave her a 40% chance of survival. My son appears to be following the same trend. Good on the tolerance of pain, but bad for other reasons. I now have a much bigger sympathy for my parents since I now know how difficult it is to get the point across that something isn't right with my child, but whatever "it" is doesn't follow the textbook definition and symptoms.

I need to get a few things done, but will post later about "Uncle-Cousin" Matt's visit....

That's it...

I'm done! I can't imagine that my frustration level could rise any higher (and I'd rather not find out). I won't go into great detail, but the fact my usually wonderful 2-yr old boy has decided it's more fun to sit and scream while tears stream down his face the entire day, the fact I can't get my head out of my butt and figure out the one subject in school I'm actually good at (and the only one I'm currently getting credit for), that we have certain costs going way up without the compensation to deal easier with it, and that I'm starting to wonder if I'm not just so neurotically insane that there's really nothing wrong with my body have all but broken me.

So, the secret is out. I am currently so stressed out that I'm actually feeling it. That's my clue that it's too much. If you were to ask anyone around me about it, they'd have no clue. But the time has come that I must take a break. It's not going to happen because of extenuating circumstances, but if I start leaving complete gibberish on this blog, at least you know why.

So, with that, I head off to finish writing gerunds in Spanish, which I oddly have zero problem with....

Thank You, Corbie...

For sending me to bed with thoughts of the Soviet Union (despite it no longer existing) on the evening of the week before I have class taught by a Pole. I'm sure I'll now have jumbled up dreams with dialect partly in Russian, Ukrainian, Polish, Georgian, and Spanish.

Actually, I'm glad for the occasional strange dream. It reminds me of some pleasant times. So this is truly a thank you without sarcasm.

Good night, everyone!

Have You Done......

In an effort to not bore everyone with Lotus (let's face it, I'm an animal freak who tends to go overboard), I spotted this one on another friend's blog. It's kind of interesting! Not wholly telling, but interesting.


Have you done any of these? Just copy and paste this to your blog and highlight or Bold the ones that you HAVE done.
1. Started your own blog 2. Slept under the stars 3. Played in a band 4. Visited Hawaii (in fact, I lived there) 5. Watched a meteor shower 6. Given more than you can afford to charity 7. Been to Disneyland 8. Climbed a mountain 9. Held a praying mantis 10. Sang a solo 11. Bungee jumped 12. Visited Paris 13. Watched a lightning storm at sea 14. Taught yourself an art from scratch 15. Adopted a child 16. Had food poisoning 17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty. 18. Grown your own vegetables 19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France 20. Slept on an overnight train 21. Had a pillow fight 22. Hitch hiked 23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill 24. Built a snow fort 25. Held a lamb 26. Gone skinny dipping 27. Run a Marathon 28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice 29. Seen a total eclipse 30. Watched a sunrise or sunset 31. Hit a home run . 32. Been on a cruise 33. Seen Niagara Falls in person 34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors 35. Seen an Amish community (they were neighbors that gave us eggs & bread in PA) 36. Taught yourself a new language 37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied 38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person 39. Gone rock climbing 40. Seen Michelangelo’s David 41. Sung karaoke . 42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt 43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant 44. Visited Africa 45. Walked on a beach by moonlight (did I mention I lived in Hawaii? And Florida)46. Been transported in an ambulance 47. Had your portrait painted 48. Gone deep sea fishing 49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person 50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris 51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling 52. Kissed in the rain 53. Played in the mud 54. Gone to a drive-in theater 55. Been in a movie (Pearl Harbor, Miss Congeniality)56. Visited the Great Wall of China 57. Started a business . 58. Taken a martial arts class 59. Visited Russia 60. Served at a soup kitchen 61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies 62. Gone whale watching 63. Got flowers for no reason 64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma 65. Gone sky diving 66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp 67. Bounced a check . 68. Flown in a helicopter 69. Saved a favorite childhood toy 70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial 71. Eaten Caviar 72. Pieced a quilt. 73. Stood in Times Square 74. Toured the Everglades 75.Been fired from a job . 76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London 77. Broken a bone . 78. Been on a speeding motorcycle 79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person 80. Published a book (Just newspaper and magazine articles) 81. Visited the Vatican 82. Bought a brand new car 83. Walked in Jerusalem 84. Had your picture in the newspaper 85. Read the entire Bible 86. Visited the White House. 87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating 88. Had chickenpox 89. Saved someone’s life 90. Sat on a jury 91. Met someone famous - Way too many to count 92. Joined a book club 93. Lost a loved one 94. Had a baby 95. Seen the Alamo in person 96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake 97. Been involved in a law suit 98. Owned a cell phone 99. Been stung by a bee .

Farewell, My Magnificent Friend....

While I was in Utah, I received word of losing a very special friend. He's been sick for a while, we all knew it was coming, but we also hoped to have more time with him.

Cardiff Lotus was my first real introduction to the world of Welsh Ponies. Sure, I'd been around them before, but not exclusively. Nor had I ever been around a stallion of such presence and gentleness. Luke met Lotus at the age of 15 months. He was the first pony we turned Luke loose with. Granted, he wasn't totally alone, but Luke learned how to safely feed a pony, lead a pony (which is still hit & miss for obvious reasons), move around a pony, and cuddle a pony with Lotus as the guinea pig. Why? I knew I could trust him.

But Loti wasn't just any pony. He was the stallion. Sure, there were 2 other stallions when we started, but one is no longer intact and is now winning on the circuit in California. The other was gelded last week after having about a year to prove he could behave and failing that task. Loti, however, was a total dream.

I loved this stallion. I gave him hugs, kisses on the nose, and as many treats as I could (until he became sick, then no more treats). I pulled his mane in the spring (after these pictures) while he dozed, I snipped tail hairs after he first crashed and had a horsehair memory pot made from them for his owner, I bathed him for fun, and I trusted him with secrets that I haven't shared outside of his ears. More than that, I fully trusted him with my son. No other pony has gained that from me.

Going to the barn will never be the same. There will no longer be a beautiful and white face greeting me, waiting for his dose of "Hello, favorite stallion in the whole world! How are you?" No wonderful boy to give tons of hugs and kisses to. No more pony for my son to climb in with just so he could give a hug around the leg.

I am grateful for the day I had with him before leaving for Utah. He was in horrible shape, the first time I'd seen him lay out flat (as opposed to sternal). I doused him in fly spray, which he hated but really needed, then just shed a tear in his mane while I hugged his neck as tightly as I dared. He gently curled his head around me to hug back, something he'd never actually done before. I gathered myself up, kissed his nose, told him some sweet things, and came on home. I knew it would be the last time I would see him. I just didn't want to admit it. That was Wedseneday, Lotus crossed the Rainbow Bridge on Saturday at the young age of 16.

Farewell, my magnificent friend. I will miss you very deeply...

Grass...

Before the snowstorm. I start with being able to see the mountains from the backyard, to no mountains due to snow falling, to a littl peek at the snow-covered peaks. All of us in the pictures: me, Jeff, Luke, J.T., Ryan, Kristen, Mary, David, Mom, and Dad. The settings are my parent's house & backyard, and cousins Tami & Larry's backyard.

I mentioned in another post about the Salt Lake Valley not being desolate. I must explain. We have a friend who asked Jeff why he was looking forward to the trip (he didn't bother with me, it was my childhood home & parents!). He said "What's ther to do there, anyway? Isn't it kind of desolate?" He'll never live that down (seriously, Colorado Springs, where he lives and is from, is desolate compared to Salt Lake!) :)

Snow....

The first slideshow. All snow, all fun! The culprits? Me, Jeff, Luke, my brother, David, my nephew, J.T., my niece, Kristen, and my cousin, Matt (freshly back from galavanting around Europe). The setting? Albion Basin and my parent's backyard (add my dad to the list of culprits).

Just Thoughts....

What a beautiful day! As I drove home from school, I noticed a nearly cloudless sky that allowed me to see forever. I could see the entire expanse of the Wet and Sangre de Cristo Mountains, including the Spanish Peaks and most Southern peaks of the the Wets. I was actually pretty shocked at the amount of the snow there! Not so much for the Spanish Peaks, they rarely are completely free of the white stuff, but of the Southern Wets. If I were high enough, I'm sure I'd have been able to see Raton, New Mexico today....it is that lovely. The view to the North was less impressive. While the view of the Front Range is spectacular, it appeared to still be foggy in Colorado Springs (much like it was here this morning).

As spectacular as it is here today, I couldn't help but think a classmate of mine is feeling that fog. He's had a rough weekend. He has surgery, which was a good thing, but also managed to have two of his cousins die while his rib was being repaired. They died in separate car accidents. I couldn't believe he was even at school. My heart breaks for him.

Pueblo West and vicinity missed out on the storm we experienced in Utah. We did get a little rain on Tuesday, but that's it. It's a little frustrating! But I'm so glad my niece was able to experience the 17 degree snowfall in the mountains, complete with the obligatory white-washing. She also was able to experience the snow in the valley later in the afternoon while her crazy little brother and cousin ran around in the white stuff like maniacs. Funny, considering my child was ticked off over being bundled up (he's been that way since birth) and my nephew was obviously unhappy over being cold and didn't understand the concept of being in the mountains.

It's kind of ironic looking at the pictures, though. I couldn't believe the amount of green and the leaves still on the trees! It's been doing the fall browning for a while and the leaves here are mostly gone now. Anyway, the fact that we had snow amidst all the green part of the time we visited Utah was almost eery.

Bearing in mind this was the first time we've met our nephews, along with my brother and sister-in-law meeting my son, and the kids meeting for the first time, it was an amazing trip. The kiddos all got along VERY well and played past exhaustion. Poor Luke was so tired! He finally got a great night's sleep last night and seems a little more himself because of it. But they just ran, and played, and ran, and played, and made us dizzy. It was great, though, because we weren't sure how well they'd get along.

Poor little Ryan, the youngest, was a little over his head in the chaos, though. He's 13-months old and wants to be able to do everything his cousin and brother do. Luke, of course, is 2, J.T. is 3, but they're the same size and equally yoked in what they can do (save for talking). Ryan's frustration was evident, but he also laughed at the two older boys rather often.

Then there's Kristen. She's 12, very tall (I was shocked, she was just a little girl last time I saw her!), very beautiful, and a ton of fun to be around. I felt bad because she was kind of stuck in the middle. A bunch of adults, a bunch of toddlers, and her. But she made the best of it and had some fun. She's another one who is good at and enjoys math, so she had no problem helping me with my homework. I admit, it's rather embarrassing to be 32 and have a 12-yr old have a better understanding of what you're doing that you can ever imagine having, but it was so much fun sitting at the kitchen table with her. We laughed over our goofy stuff while baking cookies until it was time for her to go back to the hotel. I wished she could have stayed, but that wasn't to happen. Still, it's time and memories I'll treasure forever.

I wish we could have had more time with our extended family, but that doesn't always work out. It was a nice trip, a fun trip, and a little chaotic at times. It was so much more fun to watch the kidlets playing together than anything else....

(Pictures to follow...too many to do anything other than a slide show!!)

Home Sweet Home...

We have made it home safely. What a beautiful drive today! The snow of yesterday covered the hills that are normally barren and pretty ugly in Wyoming and we were pretty amazed at the difference from a few days ago. It was even the first time we've actually been able to say a windfarm was pretty.

The antelope were out on the way to Utah, but our return trip gave us the sight of antelope, deer, elk, and a coyote greeting us right here in Pueblo West. Not to mention the amount of feathered creatures....

Red and Dublin were quite pleased to see us (and I think happy we cleaned up the messes they left us in the basement....the price one pays to keep the pets home and not pay boarding fees. At least it's still unfinished!!), as we were them. Our lone surviving fish appears to be doing very well (much to my relief) and will receive new "friends" sometime later this week.

In the meantime, we will unpack clothes tomorrow and return to a fairly normal routine. Jeff goes back to work, I go back to school, Luke goes back to daycare in the morning. Yippee. But we have a lot of pictures to share over the coming days. For now, however, I bid you all a good night!

Real Sal...uhhh Sandy!!

Yes, yes, we are here in the wonderful, NOT desolate, Salt Lake Valley! Sandy, to be exact. Sorry to everyone that I have kind of shunned for the trip. Honestly, I do want to get together during a visit, but this trip was already tricky enough. I wish I had a few more days just for the purpose of seeing a few people.

But I AM pleased to report that our 10 months of planning came through beautifully! My brother and his family beat us to the house (thanks to the fog bank between Cheyenne and Laramie on our drive), which completely surprised my parents. That was part one, and it was a huge deal. Mom & Dad were thrilled.

All 4 grandkids in the house, plus us adult kids. Granted, it's just my little family staying in the basement of this teeny, tiny house of my childhood, but that's not the point.

Today we managed to successfully surprise them again. This is where the 10 months of planning came through. We were "invited" to my dad's cousin's house for lunch. Mom was sure we needed to be prompt, while I was telling her we needed to let Luke sleep so we needed to drive around a little bit more. She didn't know I was stalling for time, and my dear, wonderful husband was doing his best (as driver) to do that while hearing me bicker with my mom. Poor dad was just sitting there with the usual under-his-breath giggles.

We did manage to stall a few minutes, and my parents did get their big surprise. And, boy, were they surprised!! It was a small gathering, complete with a high school friend that has kept in touch with all of us over the years. We have a ton of food left over, but it's worth it. My parents had no idea and were stunned off their hineys.

Now comes the time to plan the perfect "kidnapping" of my beautiful niece for tomorrow. This is her first time anywhere near any mountains and snow. Since this storm has the perfect timing, I am determined to give her a break from toddlers (HA!!) and steal her away to Albion Basin for a few hours. I'm not sure I'll win, but I'll give it a good try......

And We're Off...

Time for another adventure! We are leaving in just a few hours for a trip to Utah. It appears the weather will not be cooperating, but such is the chance one takes when traveling during a change of seasons.

I am looking forward to this trip. So much is in store! It will be busy...it always is. But it should prove to be a very fun time.

With that, I am off to bed. Have a great weekend!

The Rut...

Luke and I headed to the high country again yesterday, a trip I look forward to each year. I wish we could do more this year, but circumstances at home prevent us from enjoying this particular part of fall this year. I tried to make the most of it, but regret that I couldn't get video. I also regret I didn't get better (or more) pictures, but some is better than none.

Part of what hampered the video and pictures was the weather. It was snowing. Real snow. Big, fat flakes, albeit very wet and heavy (typical early snow). As such, electronic equipment gets cranky. The other part was, again, the weather.

You see, this is the peak time in the elk rut. This is when the bull elk wander around in an almost stupor while bugling for cows and fighting each other. Hormones seem to do that to all living things. My original plan was to drive the 3'ish hours to Rocky Mountain National Park (Estes Park) because I knew it basically guaranteed large numbers of elk, but I also knew there would be 8-bazillion people (because of the rut and the afore mentioned large numbers of elk) and I didn't want to deal with that. So I decided to go to an area near Vail, instead.

There is an place called Dowd's Junction that has trails for viewing area wildlife. During the rut, the elk are what everyone wants to see. You can go almost anywhere in the high country and hear a bugle off in the distance, but you have to be in the right spot to actually see them. This is one of those places that offers you the "right" spot.

I already mentioned the snow, despite the fact you can't actually see it in the pictures. I had Luke dressed plenty warm enough, and he was fine wandering around the trails. I, on the other hand, went armed and had to pretend to be a chameleon with my eyes. The elk were thick yesterday (thanks in part to the weather, they were feasting to prepare for the storm), and we were basically surrounded. I knew we were okay, but also know enough that I needed to be sure we, or the elk, didn't get too close. We moved a lot.


So, the only times I was able to feel safe getting pictures was when we were in the trees. That makes it difficult because the trees are in the way. But Luke loved it. He was picking up stuff from the ground, handing it to me, and squeeling back at the elk. They obviously knew we were there, and they obviously didn't care about Luke's little imitation of them.


We saw a couple of fight threats, but no actual fights. There was one bull who lost all his cows and kept inching in to attempt getting them back, but he'd run everytime the bull who took them would lift his head. I admit, I was disappointed, but the object was to see and hear the bulls bugle. We achieved that.

I decided it would be easier and safer to make the trek home via I-70, which was the "junction" of Dowds Junction, and go through Denver to get home than heading back down through the mining roads (which are now state highways and wonderfully easy to traverse). I didn't really want to worry about the wet roads in 30-degree temps. Wasn't my best choice since it took almost 5 hours to get back home (YIKES!!!). Granted, that's not normal, but it still means it wasn't my best choice of the day.

Still, it was such a lovely day and one of the most beautiful drives I've done. Mining ghost towns, past-peak leaves, an old WWII Army camp, snow blanketing and clouds shrouding the numerous 14'ers (including the tallest peak in Colorado) dotting the area, and the stars of the day: the elk. It was great. Sort of a sad end of the season for me (because I'll miss it so desperately until I can get up there again...which won't be for months), but also a good one.