On Sunday, Dan was off playing nerd games and I had the day to myself. One of the things I did was to take photos of all the flowers in the yard. I noticed that we had flowers blooming in pretty much every color of the rainbow. So here is my rainbow for April 2011.
The weather has been nasty for the last couple of days, ranging from cloud to fog to rain to snow, with just a bit of sun here and there, and I walked to work under my giant rainbow-colored umbrella this morning. To counteract the blah day, here are some of the photos I took while we were walking around last Sunday for Doors Open Denver.
Can you find Dan in one of the photos?
So.
First, April brought my first real cold in like a year, which sucked. It was actually the weirdest cold I’ve ever had; it started with fever/body aches/throat tightness, then a productive cough, and then upper respiratory stuff (sneezing, etc.) I’ve never ever had a cold move UP before. Thankfully, it’s mostly gone now.
Second, I had to spend all day Monday and Tuesday in meetings. Like, 8.5 hours each day. And the best part was that on Tuesday I had to leave one and drive to the other one and by the time I got out, even though I was only a block away from the gym, I decided that I couldn’t be indoors another second or my head would asplode, so I just walked home in the sunny spring weather.
Because third, spring FINALLY came. Finally. It’s been months of gloom and drear and snow and cold and yuck, and spring decided to take its sweet-ass time showing up this year. The trees are JUST starting to leaf out and bloom.
Which was lucky, because fourth, we got to see EEK last week when she came to town for a conference, woohoo! On Friday night we went to see her read from her new book, which was awesome not only because she is a good reader and a good poet but because we got to see a bunch of other people read their published work as well. It was in a really cool art gallery in a part of town we don’t normally haunt so just getting to do something new was good. I was still kind of sick and had to duck out of the last reading so as to be able to cough up my left lung, but all in all it was an enjoyable experience. Then on Saturday, we kidnapped her from her hotel and forced her to eat brunch with us. We twisted her arm into getting some ice cream from our favorite place and eating it in the park nearby. Sadly, the weather didn’t cooperate quite as much as we would have liked and it was a bit chilly and windy for our stroll in the park.
Fifth, I’ve recently found my ex boyfriend from high school on Facebook. I sent him a friend request, mostly for shits and giggles, but also because I’d like to get back in touch with his best friend who I really liked and stayed friends with for a while after we broke up. The friend has a very, very common name so I can’t find him on FB because there are over 1000 of him on there. I’ll keep the internets posted as to any developments, as I’m sure you are all waiting on bated breath.
Sixth, I am devastated to report that as I was walking home yesterday, one of the straps on my favoritest pair of shoes broke. I’ve sworn revenge at the universe and hope to find a cobbler or shoe repair place that can fix it, because my life would truly suck without these shoes.
Click on any photo to embiggen.
Once these were new baby green leaves. Now they are dead.
Yesterday I was in a bad mood. One of those grumpy funks that you get into once in a while, the sort of thing that you feel like you need to get away from everything in order to get back to your normal, evenly-tempered self. By 4:15 I hadn’t taken a lunch break so I decided to go home, change my clothes, and go out for a walk rather than hamstering away yet again in the smelly gym.
I changed into a bright red zip-up hooded sweatshirt and one of two pairs of jeans I currently own that a) fit, and b) don’t have holes in them*. I decided on what we’d have for dinner, made a mental list of needed grocery items, and put a bag in my pocket (reuse is good). And I headed out the door and up the street, looking for signs of spring, for anything to help me feel better about the world and my life and all that crap.
Usually, this time of year there are things blooming. This year, not so much – everything started blooming a week ago, right before our big snow storm. Then everything got frozen in the storm. The flowers that were buds during the storm? Dead. The flowers that bloomed right after? Daffodils, especially, faced the ground all bent over under the remembered weight of heavy wet snow, despite the sun. I got to the park and walked around the perimeter, trying to get my heart rate up while keeping an eye out for things to photograph. I saw a stuffed lamb in a tree (a beanie baby, maybe?) and a few daffodils that weren’t actually touching the ground. I shot the one plant/tree/bush that looked like it had actually put out some green in the past week (most of the new growth on everything had been frozen and turned to brown or yellow crispness). I shot a tree that looked dead against the gorgeous blue spring sky. And as I headed out of the park and down the street to the grocery store, I found a tree that hadn’t budded before the storm, though some of the paperthin baby green leaves had charred-looking edges.
Stranded toy
Just about the only green in the park. Note the curled edges.
Someday this tree will have leaves on it again.
Note the buds, the fresh leaves, and the brown edges.
As I was walking home from the store, I shot this:
1990 called, it wants its mall hair back.
And remember the photos in this post and then here?
Same tree as the last two times
I took this photo on my way to work this morning. As you can see, the flowers are dead. There was no time for anything to be pollinated. Dan told me he heard the trees on the western slope (where most of Colorado’s produce is grown: peaches, plums, etc.) were budding before the storm, and most of the flowers died. This is going to be an expensive year for fruit in Colorado.
*Then, last night, the jeans developed a hole. Guess I’m going jeans shopping this weekend.
Remember how, merely yesterday, I waxed rhapsodic about spring in Colorado? This morning, when I got up it was cold and dry outside. 20 minutes later it began to snow. 40 minutes after that there were three inches of wet, heavy snow built up on our back porch, and I stood at our front window watching the snow accumulate on the white-blossomed trees across the street.
My walk to work was far wetter and colder than it had been in quite some time. I held an umbrella over my head, which succeeded in keeping my head dry but the rest of me got quite covered in ploofy (yay! ploofy!) wet stuff. I snapped a few photos to compare with the ones I got one week ago today.
I stepped through the door of work, hands aching in my crappy gloves (the good ones were still in the car from this past weekend’s trip), only to find that everyone was being sent home. Apparently, we’re supposed to get over a foot of snow today, perhaps even more, and the conditions were absolutely wretched and unsafe and will probably only get worse. I’m the only one who walks to work, so I can still make it in even if there’s three feet piled up, but I’m not going to say no to a snow day at home with my husband. One of the two people left at work by the time my hands warmed up to merely uncomfortable kindly gave me a ride home so I didn’t have to walk back in the nastiness. There’s warm chai in my mug, two cute yet confused kitties winding around our legs, and the ploofs are still coming down outside.
Speaking of cute kitties, here’s something I’ve been meaning to post for a while. Our cats have very different habits and different personalities, and I’ve caught each one doing something endearing recently.
Case in point: Petra loves to sit in things that are just Petra-sized. A box lid on the floor will soon have a small black and white cat perched inside. This was some packaging that came with the router when we got our very own internets last month, and Petra wasted no time in depositing herself inside.
Loki is our lap ho. He is especially pleased to help when one is using a laptop, and will likely drape himself over both hands and arms, sure his assistance with ball-warming and hand-pinning will be welcome.
Finally, I finally got around to getting their most interesting behavior captured on video. Each of them developed a trick in order to get a kitty treat – neither of them were trained to do so, yet each one does something unique. Dan was kind enough to edit the video down for me (the original had each cat doing a trick and taking a treat three times).
Also, this is why I will do my level best never again to live somewhere with white linoleum in the kitchen. This is what it looks like when it’s CLEAN.
This weekend brought a long-awaited trip up to Julie and Steve’s condo in Winter Park, a ski area in the mountains that’s less well-known than many of Colorado’s winter sport offerings. We’d been planning for several weeks around their schedules and were looking forward to getting in some good snowshoeing and relaxing and spending time with our friends who we hardly ever get to see during the months of December through April.
We made it up to Winter Park by around 6 PM, narrowly missing Friday afternoon traffic. To get to Winter Park you go up Highway 70 into the mountains, and then take highway 40 north over Berthoud Pass – over 12K feet at the summit, I believe, and then descend a couple of thousand feet into the valley. The WP area has two different ski/snowboard areas: Winter Park itself and a smaller, more independant-style one called Mary Jane, both of which we passed on the way to the condo. We settled in for an evening of good food and good company, partaking in tasty beverages and a screening of Big Fish.
Saturday, after a hefty breakfast, Dan and I headed out on our snowshoe adventure, hiking a trail we found in a borrowed guidebook. It wasn’t especially well-marked but enough people had used it since the last snow had fallen (which, judging by the snow conditions, had been quite some time) that it was pretty easy to follow. From the very beginning, we saw lots of evidence of beetle damage and beetle-caused tree death, which was quite sad. Our trail started (STARTED) at nearly 11 thousand feet in elevation and we probably ascended close to another thousand during the uphill portion of our hike. It turned out to be a great hike, but wicked challenging (there’s not much oxygen up that high!).
Dead tree macro
Pine cone macro
Despite the difficulty, we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly, and Dan’s four snowshoe mishaps in deep, slushy snow that led to his right leg being trapped up to his hip didn’t spoil his good mood (thankfully!). It turns out that I’m pretty coordinated on the ol’ ‘shoes and I didn’t have as many issues (part of the problem, we think, was that the rented snowshoes Dan was wearing didn’t seem to be strapped correctly and he wasn’t getting the full benefit of the surface area of his right shoe).
On the way up
I wonder what this looks like in the summer
The culmination of our hike ended in reaching a milestone described in the guidebook as a dead tree that resembled a telephone pole. This was right about at tree line, and the snow was patchy in this area, so we found some rocks to sit upon for a while and eat a snack before heading back downhill. It took us a lot less time to get down than it did to go up (probably because we didn’t have to stop, rest, and catch our breaths every thousand feet).
Pole!
Pole detail
The hike continued up this way, but we were done ascending for the day. Note the lip of snow at the top; prime avalanche danger.
We made it back to town in the late afternoon, and prepared for the evening and the next day by making a grocery store run. We had dinner with the group (Julie, Steve, another couple, and another friend = totalling seven of us, plus an 11-week old Spanish Waterdog pup named Bailey) at the friends’ condo and afterward most of us watched Pineapple Express while some of us (read: me) fell asleep halfway through.
The difficult thing about staying overnight at 9 thousand feet is that the air is even more dry than we’re used to, and has far less oxygen so one’s sleep isn’t as sound as one might like. I dreamt all night about unquenchable thirst and so the next day, rather than snowshoeing again we opted to just tailgate in the parking lot at Mary Jane while most of the others drank beers between their ski runs.
View of a run from the parking lot at Mary Jane.
Bailey and dad’s legs
We saw lots of dogs, lots of skiers and boarders on the slushy shiny runs, and spent hours trying to get Julie’s new tiny cheap grill to function (yet another example of You Get What You Pay For), during which time I got too much sun, drank too much girl beer (it turns out 2 is too much at that altitude when all I’ve had to eat is potato chips and cookies), and didn’t drink nearly enough water or put on enough sunscreen. Ultimately, it was a fun afternoon and a fun weekend but I was glad when we got home and got to sleep in our own bed. You can sleep on the most comfortable pullout couch in existence, but ultimately it’s still a pullout couch.
I snapped a few photos on my way to work this morning, documenting some of the things that tell me spring is officially here. March is usually one of our snowiest months and in years past crocuses have popped up through snow banks; daffodils through muddy patches, but this year everything is dry (and relatively warm, too). The trees have taken their sweet time about the blooming and the budding, and today I finally felt like my favorite season is truly underway. (I’m still kind of hoping for more snow, though.)
Also, last night we had a wonderful time with our friend Chris and his friend (who he’s really here to visit). We know Chris through the same message board we know each other, and once upon a time we were all caught up on one another’s lives. Now we communicate through Facebook status updates, and it was lovely to have an evening to spend with someone who’s known us since we met (he lives in Oregon). We enjoyed his friend as well, and they have big plans for his visit, so I’m glad he was able to squeeze in an evening with us. For dinner I made guacamole as an appetizer and prepared fajitas (various bell peppers, onions, chicken), chopped zucchini and asparagus to be sauteed, and cooked rice and refried beans. When Dan came home he seasoned and cooked the mass of veggies and poultry. Tortillas were heated, cheese was grated, lettuce was shredded, and we all enjoyed a Mexican-ish feast. For dessert I made strawberry shortcake – quick, easy, and representative of one of the simple pleasures of spring.
Strawberry Shortcake (serves 4)
2 cups strawberries, washed, chopped
1/2 pint whipping cream (you will have leftovers)
2 tsp powdered sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup flour
1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter
1/3 cup milk
1 egg, beaten
Preheat oven to 450F. Mix dry ingredients for shortcake (flour, sugar, baking powder) and cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add milk and egg until just mixed, then plop into 4 shortcakes on cookie sheet and flatten to 3/4 inch high with the back of a spoon or fork. Bake for 10-15 minutes until golden, let cool. Meanwhile, wash and chop strawberries. Whip cream with powdered sugar and vanilla. To serve, cut shortcakes in half lengthwise and layer with strawberries in between and on top. Add generous dollop of whipped cream to the top of each.
It’s been a week since I messed up my leg, and today is the first day where I feel like there might be some improvement. My range of motion is better and I can walk a bit more normally (i.e., not just on the ball of my foot or stump-legged), though I still have to think about it and pay really close attention with each step as to how and where I put weight on my right foot. I walked to work today in the rain under the giant rainbow underella we bought for the wedding (in case it rained, which it didn’t) with my husband. It rains so rarely here in Denver that I always treasure it when it happens. Rain makes the air smell good and the ground bring forth more green.
The trees around here are finally mostly starting to get leaves, and the flowers on the trees are all but gone. The lilac bushes are beginning to bloom, which makes the air smell fantastic. I’m not going to begrudge another few weeks of spring weather; I’ll take what I can get before it starts to get hot. Our rose bushes are alive, as is the oregano and mint from last year, and we’re going to get some flowers on our irises for the first time since we moved in.
This afternoon I have an appointment with a trainer at the gym, someone with a background in sports injury, who I am hoping can give me some ideas of what sorts of exercises I can do while I heal. It’s a free consultation and I think just being back in the gym will make me feel better, even if all I can do is lift weights with my arms. I’m not willing to wait around another week just to talk to the physical therapist, and since I went through yesterday and (so far) today with no advil and I’m actually walking some, I don’t see any need to wait. I do plan to take it easy, though.
My leg still hurts, though not nearly as acutely, and it is also itching, which to me means it is healing. I know that it may be a long time before it is all the way better, and I’m going to have to be really careful with it for months, perhaps years, so I don’t reinjure it. Mostly I am just thankful that my body is relatively young and healthy, that I have every expectation that it will heal, and in a few weeks or months I won’t even remember what it felt like to tear that muscle. I was thinking about this when we were in the Oakland Airport on Sunday evening waiting for our flight, and one of our fellow passengers was a good-looking surfer type guy in board shorts, with one real and one prosthetic leg. I was feeling really sorry for myself, because my leg hurt a lot and it looked really gross, but at least I had both of my legs. I was thinking about this today as I read a blog by a person with an incurable disease, someone who is mostly bedridden at the age of 23 (I think), someone who has been fighting infection and disease and the inability to do what every other young person can do since the age of 12. I don’t read her blog very frequently, but when I do I am reminded that despite how much pain a person might be in, despite the knowledge that one will never live a “normal” life, there is still good to be had, life still worth living.
My leg hurts, but it will heal. It’s a good reminder that I shouldn’t take anything about what I can still do (or anything I can do when I’m not injured) for granted.
Of course I’m still going to write about the rest of the wedding, but someone has promised to put up more photos and I plan to use some of them in telling my recap in all its gory detail. So instead, I’m going to do a little book reviewing and discuss the weather and all the other stuff that’s going on since we got back from Denver.
So, there.
First, I finished The Year of Living Biblically. It was great! A fantastic read, very funny and poignant in a few places. I read many parts to Dan out loud because I found them so amusing. And it also really made me think about what it means to have faith in a book written so long ago, for a culture that is long gone, and how modern-day people attempt to translate such esoteric rules into actions that make sense now. It also made me think about how glad I am that I don’t feel any pressure to live my life according to how someone else (deity or no) tells me I should. Recently, some people I know who were culturally Jewish decided to really explore their faith and have become Orthodox – she covers her hair, they keep completely kosher, they follow the Sabbath, and for them it has become something very important. They really enjoy following all the Orthodox rules; it gives meaning and structure to their lives. As in The Year of Living Biblically, it makes them feel good to have a set of rules to follow, and they do the things without knowing WHY they are important to do, but they trust that God has His reasons and so they do them. That’s great for them, and I’m happy they have found something that fulfills them. And I’m happy that I don’t feel the need to follow any proscribed rules myself.
I’m really glad I read the book and that the author took his time to do a lot of research, experience a lot of what it means to be Orthodox Jewish and/or Fundamentalist Christian, and write his experiences. I highly recommend it.
I’m about halfway finished with Under the Banner of Heaven, the bestseller from a few years ago about Fundamentalist LDS people (and also about the origins of the Mormon church in general). I borrowed it from Monkey while we were in LA last week and started reading it right away, because I’ve wanted to read it for quite some time. While I find it fascinating, it also tends to give me bad dreams about scary religious people so I’ve stopped reading it before bed (which is when I do most of my reading for fun). I expect to finish it, perhaps this weekend. So far it’s about what I expected in terms of the story told in the book (a true one) and the exploration of the origin of the Latter-Day Saints, Joseph Smith and Brigham Young, and how and why the polygamy bit became a part of the deal. It’s really quite interesting, and I can see why the one-husband-many-wives thing might appeal to the men, but what I still haven’t figured out is how they’ve convinced all the wimmenfolk to go along with it for so long. The modern-day FLDS women (and their children, for different reasons) don’t seem to have things so good. Girls are married off at really young ages, often to men significantly older, and they don’t have any choice in the matter. Boys are, more often than not, kicked out of the compounds and communities when they get older because the older men don’t want the competition for women, so they end up in unfamiliar places with no money, job skills, or education. “Lost boys,” they are called. It sucks for everyone.
Another book I borrowed from Monkey was Libba Bray’s A Great and Terrible Beauty. I finished that one earlier this week and really liked it for the most part, although part of me was expecting it to be better since it’s been talked up by so many people. Long story short: power fantasy for girls, set in turn-of-the-century (as in, 19th to 20th) India and London. I’m rather fond of the main character, but didn’t feel the other ones were quite fleshed out enough – and there could have been a lot more explanation about the power bit. I’m not going to spoil it, and I do plan to read the other books.
Right now I’m reading one I checked out from the library, yet another “authorized” sequel to Gone With The Wind, this time from the POV of Rhett Butler. I’m about 1/4 to 1/3 into Rhett Butler’s People, and so far it’s not quite as good as “Scarlett” (which, I must admit, I rather liked in its own right, despite the characters behaving nothing like their counterparts in GWTW) but it’s an escapist fantasy of a different sort, and I intend to finish it. I’ve gotta read something that will keep me from dreaming about the crazy fundamentalists.
Also, this week has been the epitome of Spring in Colorado. It’s gone from sunny, warm, and lovely (Sunday) to overcast and occasionally snowing (Monday), to overcast and a bit warmer (Tuesday) to less nice (Wednesday) to snow and rain (today). I’ve heard it’s supposed to be warm and nice again by Monday. We’ll see.
Also, this morning there was a gigantic cockroach in the women’s bathroom here at work. Gross.
Also, for those of you who can’t wait for more wedding recaps, you can see the “teaser” slideshow our photographer sent us here. Warning: there’s music, and also, if you are me, you might cry a little.
