Category Archives: Colorado

Stained Fingers

Summer                                                         Recovery Moon

Jon and I went to Paxton Lumber Company yesterday, checking out exotic and not-so-exotic woods for material to extend the surface of the shorter shelving units. A couple of the ones I really liked were $20 and $19 a board foot, padauk and wenge. At those prices one board, thick, was in the $300 range. After looking at ash, white pine, and douglas fir, all of which I liked but were too close to the birch veneer on the bookshelves, we settled on black walnut.

Not only will the black walnut contrast with the birch veneer, black walnut trees were common in my hometown of Alexandria, Indiana. I have fond memories of stepping on the green acrid smelling husks of walnuts as they fell from those trees. We teased out the walnuts tucked inside and took them home, fingers stained with a greenish-yellow paste that had a bitter lemony taste. A part of my childhood. Also, black walnut trees were part of the old forest which dominated the landscape of the midwest prior to westward expansion. So those boards of the midwest will rest on birch veneer, redolent of the boreal forest in Minnesota. But the bookcases they constitute reside here on Shadow Mountain among lodgepole and ponderosa pines.

We ate lunch at Park Burger in the Hilltop neighborhood of Denver, a wealthy area with tear-down lots filled now with house reminiscent of Kenwood in Minneapolis. I had a Scarpone burger with pancetta, provolone and giardiniera. It was delicious.

Jon’s skills as a woodworker were evident as we selected the particular walnut boards. We matched their color, thickness and rejected some with too deep fissures or splits. He knows the woods and their characteristics. He also knows the places where exacting cuts can be made, straight. One place has a table saw as large as a small room.

Once again the joy of returning home from Denver’s 94 degrees to Shadow Mountain’s 77 with 23% humidity. The nights have been warm of late, making sleeping more difficult and pushing those ceiling fan purchases higher up on our priority list.

Mataam Fez

Summer                                                                  Healing Moon

Bernie Sanders we missed. The Mataam Fez serves 5 course meals, lots of hand washing, belly dancing and a generous amount of time between each course. Most of the food was very good, all eaten by hand, thus the handwashing, though the lamb brochette was overcooked.

The meal began with a salad and palate cleanser. The palate cleanser was shredded carrot with raisins in a slightly tart sauce. The salad had beets, spicy carrots, spinach, chopped tomatoes and onions and spiced potatoes all in individual portions. The third dish was phylo dough covered with powdered sugar and filled with a meat, couscous, spice mixture. Very tasty. The entree, mine lamb on a bed of pilaf with raisins and Kate’s shrimp in a delicate sauce, came next. After a long wait, during which the belly dancing happened, came mint tea, rose water for our hands and face, then a plate of cut fruit.

Across the way from us a toddler, a girl, got very involved with the belly dancing, swaying and twirling as the woman, older, took her out into the middle of the room to share the dance. This was a toddler friendly environment since guests sat either on pillows or hassocks at a low table.

We decided this was my father’s day meal out and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Until we had to get up from that position. But we managed.

JFest

Beltane                                                            Closing Moon

 

Kate and I went to Boulder J Fest yesterday. It was on Pearl Street Mall, a three block long pedestrian mall that is the heart of downtown Boulder. We had a great time, wandering among booths that featured Jewish crafts people, Kosher food, humanist Judaism, Judaism Your Way and B’Nai Brith among many others.

We ate lunch in an excellent Italian trattoria with outdoor seating that gave us a comfortable front row seats to the performance tent. We first heard Lost Tribe, a klezmer band with extraordinary range doing everything from Bob Dylan to reggae klezmer. After they finished an acapella Orthodox group Six13 took over the stage.

Here’s a video of one of their number on youtube:

Golden

Beltane                                                        Closing Moon

To the Colorado Geology Museum on the Colorado School of Mines’ campus. Introducing Mary to the geological and mining heritage of our new home. Struck up a conversation with the clerk in the gift shop, always a School of Mines’ student. She was a geological engineer and headed for work in a petroleum or mining related job.

“Both are cyclical,” she said, in response to my question, “But both are at the bottom of their cycles right now.” She has no job and her geological engineer spouse does. “But,” she said a tad ruefully (they both graduated last month), “teaching middle school science.” In St. Louis.

I’ve not yet raised the question about environmental effects with any of these students , still feeling my way into the local culture. But, I intend to.

After the Geology Museum we went into downtown Golden. It has this odd theme: Denver stole the title of capital from us and we’ve been working ever since to bring you things worth seeing. Snarky, a self-put down and, to me, unpleasant.

We had some yogurt. Kate and Mary went to the quilt museum which apparently had a wonderful exhibit while I wandered the main street poking my head into shops. None of them really grabbed. The art galleries were full of yesterday’s ideas and tomorrow’s kitsch. The gift shops had the usual assortment of inexpensive gemstones, bottle cap openers with your name on the handle, hats and t-shirts and sweatshirts with Golden somewhere written on them. I did see one piece I liked. A pillow with a hand sewn Colorado flag featured an elk in the lotus position. Sounds cheesy, but the execution was good.

Eventually I sat down in the shade.  Just another 68 year old guy waiting for his wife to come to the quilt shop.

 

Visiting

Beltane                                                                  Closing Moon

Mary always brings gifts, this time beautiful cloth for Kate from Indonesia and items of anthropological interest for me, including a small book of odd superstitions common in Singapore. In another post I’ll share some of them with  you.

Visiting family and friends requires real commitment on her part since it’s about 9100 miles from Singapore to Denver. That’s roughly ten times the Minneapolis/Denver distance. How she endures all that international flying, I don’t know. I find it exhausting and maddening, one in direct relation to the other.

Last night we all three went to the Fort, the restaurant I wrote about before that was built to imitate Bent’s Fort, an 1830’s trading company’s place of business in what is now southern Colorado. They serve what would have been available on the menu at Bent’s Fort: bison, elk, quail, lamb, beef though I notice Shrimp Veracruz and Quinoa, which Mary had last night, have been added.

The Fort is all adobe construction with thick tree trunks as support beams and pillars. It overlooks, from high among the red rocks of the Fountain Formation in Morrison, the twinkling lights of Denver about 20 miles in the distance. The staff dresses somewhat like voyageur’s, appropriate since Bent’s Fort did business with French trappers and traders who worked closely with native peoples here as they did in the far north.

 

I’m An Old CowHand From the Rio Grand

Beltane                                                           Closing Moon

Three things of significance today. Picked up Mary for her first visit to Black Mountain Drive. I’m wired up with leads and a belt holster, ekgs available at the push of a button. This is for thirty days or until I have 3 episodes or events.

And. The Andover house closed, almost all of the money is in our bank account. We are no longer cash poor and paying two mortgages. Yippee, Yi, Ya as we say out here in the West. It hasn’t quite sunk in yet, but we’ve looked up our bank balance and it’s pretty damned healthy. Great to have that uncertainty behind us.

Now the entire circus tent has been struck, all three rings, loaded on the train and the train’s left town, heading west. Our last physical and fiscal ties to Minnesota ended today around 3pm. The friendships, the cultural and political ties, those will remain.

But today we are wholly here from a business perspective. Black Mountain Drive already feels like home, as does the Front Range. How long it takes for our souls to take root in the mountains is an unknown, but a pleasant one, a process of taking the mid out of the midwesterner. It’s already begun. Gotta go now and hitch my hoss to a post.

 

 

 

 

Monsoon Season

Beltane                                                            Closing Moon

Clear, bright mornings with afternoon, early evening rain or thunderstorms.That’s been the pattern the last few days. A photographer I met at the Shadow Mountain Artist’s co-op in Evergreen said May was usually Monsoon season. Seems like a tropical pattern to me, but I like it whatever it is.

Right now the sun lights up a cloudy, blue sky, making the greens of the well watered ponderosas and aspens vibrant. Weather5280 says changing weather in the Pacific, especially a strengthening true El Nino, may keep us cool and wetter through the rest of the year. But, it also says, drought and dry will return, possibly in 2016.

If we stay cooler and wetter this year that should give us an opportunity to get our fire mitigation projects completed with less exposure to wildfire.

 

Under the Closing Moon (I Hope), Just Me and My Gal

Beltane                                                            Closing Moon

Spoke with Kate and our money manager, RJ Devick, yesterday. Made plans for the house proceeds that we will not receive today. (see below) I know real estate deals aren’t over until the money exchanges hands. I know it. But, I let myself believe this week. Shattered faith. Well, no. But disappointed? Yes.

Kate’s headed for a quilt shop in Hot Springs, South Dakota, also site of the adolescent mammoth suicide hole. Hot Springs imbedded itself in my memory on one early visit. I ate lunch at a local cafe and when I got the check, it had a 10% discount on it. When I asked what the 10% was, the clerk, in her teens, said happily, “Oh. That’s the senior discount.”

On Kate’s trip. Got a strange call from Enterprise, the car rental folks yesterday. Mr. Olson? Sort of. Huh, oh, well anyway. We’d like to go over the final bill for Kate Olson. What? Yes she checked in today. No, I don’t think so, since she’s still in Minnesota. What? A lot of confusion, silent but pregnant. After all, he had the numbers right in front of him. Then. I see, do you have a number for her? I did.

Meanwhile I had a day of rest, no medical tests, no interactions with others except the four dogs. Priceless. In much better spirits this morning. Better rested, unprodded and quiet.

There was that matter of the Zatarains though. Kate bought me some crawfish meat and I planned to stir into a Zatarain’s jambalaya mix for supper. I set the Zatarain’s box out on the counter in preparation. Later in the day I looked where it had been. Only empty space. Some dog ate it. Cardboard and dry contents altogether, leaving only the aluminum foil liner that held the rice and seasoning. So, I went to Brookforest Inn and got a pizza.

 

A Dip Down

Beltane                                                                 Closing Moon

NB: Yet another down post. Skip it if you like.

1st Grade Me
1st Grade

Yesterday’s organ was the eye. Glaucoma check-up. Lots of gazing into my eyes. Dr. Repine said, almost as if she were surprised, “Your eyes look good!” She’s very enthusiastic. “And, you have some cataracts, but if they get too big, we’ll just take them out!” I told her my eyes felt good. She seemed to want a response. Back on Latanoprost, from now on, I imagine.

I felt pretty good up to this appointment, though I was beginning to weary of high stakes medical tests, waiting for results. Didn’t realize how weary until, after squinting through my sunglasses all the way home-they dilated my eyes-and getting a headache, I suddenly dropped into a funk.

 

 

Here’s how the funk went. Moved to Colorado. All that. Then on April 14th a physical. Since then negative findings, consultations, biopsy, diagnosis, echocardiogram, glaucoma check and more to come. Consultation on the 11th about prostate cancer. Treatment, probably surgery, recovery. Holter monitor installed on Tuesday, wear that for a month. What’s causing my shortness of my breath? Not why me. No, not that. But the constant drip of this negative, that one. Of people probing, poking, peeking inside, evaluating, deciding. And waiting. Waiting. Wondering. I was, too, tired.

This morning I’ve decided I need to stay at home, get some stuff done around here. Go easy. Maybe catch a movie today or tomorrow. Better rested this morning I feel better, too. But I need to let my body and mind and my spirit rejuvenate, refresh. This is a marathon, not a sprint.