This reminds me of when Eddie was a year old. We had taken him to the rodeo, and the clown had performed a bit with a wooden horse, where the horse breaks and the clown can’t ride anymore. Eddie was so struck by the tragedy of the broken horse, he just kept saying, “The cwown bwoke ‘is hohwse!” to everyone he saw—all the way out to the parking lot after the last event. It was very cute, and kind of heart wrenching, because I knew he was feeling what he believed to be the clown’s sadness for his horse. Ed is still that way. He is very tuned into the feelings of others, and not afraid to talk about it as well as help when he can. Continue reading
Monthly Archives: March 2012
I bought this Jeep for a reason. Last May, I tried to take my cute little orange Chevy Cobalt up a trailhead access road at Twin Lakes near Leadville, Colorado. Hoo boy. I was lucky to come out in one piece—or with the car in one piece. It was really rough. I was very careful, but sometimes careful is not enough. The Cobalt just couldn’t handle the miniwashes and embedded rocks. But who in their right mind would think it could?! I just HAD to get to that trailhead. I’m glad I did. The view and the 5-mile hike melted my anxieties, and during my first serious hike in years I began to breathe.
However, when it came time to purchase a new vehicle, I knew I had to get something a little more serious, even if I would only end up on trail access roads once in awhile. Even one disaster could put a little car out of commission and me in danger. Gee, too bad I was going to need something with a little more hutzpah—that might mean I’d have to get the truck I’d always wanted: a red Jeep.Continue reading
I moved slowly today, because I only got four hours of sleep. I had worked until 5 a.m., and the park ranger came knocking on my window at 10:30 to see what my plans were. He was apologetic, but it turns out no one had the spot reserved, so I guess he just needed something to do. Grrr. That’s okay, though. Once I paid for the spot I had pulled into early this morning and picked a better one for the next two nights, I was glad to be up and about. I had things to do. Projects to write. Canyons to ogle. Continue reading
I’m not going to say I didn’t drink, but not that much—except for one night on Cleopatra’s Barge. Shocking, I know, but that’s one of the things everybody does in Vegas, right? Or it seems like they do. No one is who they really are in Vegas. Most of the time this trip, though, I was pretty much me. Because I had to work a lot of the time. Ask my son Eddie. That’s me. It’s one of the things he remembers about me as he grew up. I worked a lot. Here’s hoping some of that hard-working mojo rubbed off on him and his sister, so I don’t have to worry they’ll live on the streets someday. Continue reading