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Scenes from a mile high, though we are itching to be in Pittsburgh. Patience.

The hubster loves a diorama! And if you are thinking about dissing the sweatshirt he’s sporting, talk to the hand, peeps. Coors and my Pop’s thirty-plus years driving a forklift in their glass department fed and clothed me and paid for four years of college, thank you very much.

That’s all she wrote…

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Chihuly glass, that is, and a whole heck of a lot of it! A sweet and relatively early morning visit (my mother-in-law’s treat – Hi Martha!) to the Denver Botanic Gardens while in house limbo, and I loved it. The hubster and I, waaay back on our newlywed days, lived in an apartment not too far from here. We would occasionally wander the gardens in the early hours of the morning on neighborhood free days. I always loved the peace of being there before Denver was quite awake and caffeinated, and then there was the beauty! I must say that my appreciation, some sixteen years later, is heightened after having tended my own patch of earth, and ideas are a-brewing for our garden to come at the Pittsburgh house.

Which brings me to that…finally, right?! After much waiting and wondering, all contracts are signed; the sellers are making requested repairs; and I am confident enough to say that we will be Pennsylvania homeowners as of December first! We are eager to get in there and make the borough of Bellevue our new home, but just to hedge our bets, how about a little good luck dance, prayer, or just plain fabulous juju in our honor, pretty please?

A few more words on the Chihuly, first, if you live in the Denver metro area and haven’t seen it, scoot on over before it skedaddles at the end of the month. You will not be disappointed, well, unless it’s not your thing, but I won’t hold that against you. I’m sure there’s plenty this little scribe does that would never-ever float your boat. Anyway, back to Chihuly. I have no idea how much time he spent wandering the gardens, sketching and conjuring, but it is truly amazing to see how well each piece fits the various spaces, like they’ve always been there. Egads! I love art, like Lionel Richie “Truly” love it. Yuppity yup.

And I’m off. Have a marvelous day, dear reader!


Farewell portraits of Portland, silly, fun, beautiful Portland. I do not miss the City of Roses. There is no ache in my bones for what lies behind, for what once was my house, my verdant patch of earth. The timing was right, and my body, in eager anticipation, pitches forward, smiling, arms outstretched for what will be home again.

Hello Pittsburgh, a small sweet slice of what lies ahead. Rivers and bridges and remnants of the steel industry that was. People as kindly as Portland’s, good food, and beauty everywhere. I shall be happy to call you home!

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The road is home, our truth for the time being. Bound only to each other (tightly, joyously!), our kite aloft, we are no longer tethered to land. A suitcase each in our possession, one bag of shoes, a computer (finally and temporarily connected, huzzah!), and music, always grateful for that (Jonsi and Alex at the moment). Liberating and disconcerting at once. Limbo.

Milo is often confused and more often frightened. He misses the house and Paris (we ALL miss her, though she has visited our dreams). He cries and hides and snuggles close. He would, were there not the lion roar of diesel engines and wild whoops and screams of children happy not to be confined to cramped automobiles, be rather content to explore rest stops on his cute orange leash. But, alas, that is not the way of it, so he remains huddled and car bound while we stretch. All things considered, he is a most excellent traveler.

We have an offer in on a house in Pittsburgh, a gem of red brick construction on a quiet street in a quiet neighborhood. It is a short walk to the supermarket, library, hardware store, and bank. There is Thai food and pizza nearby, a bakery, too. We’ve had inspections and all looks pretty great for a house more than both of our ages combined. If all continues on this fine path, we will be official Pittsburghers, hearth and home, on December first! Hedging our bets by buying Penguins paraphernalia!

And you? I hope you are well and enjoying fall. Happy Monday!


My friend Rob was in town, a single afternoon of play, and we went for the familiar, with heaps and tons of photos snapped at the Japanese Garden. I am going to miss these days, of him sending a last moment message letting me know he will be here in a day or two, and might I have an open schedule? Yes, of course I do. The timing is always perfect and our shared moments, too. We talk of the big and small and delight at all we find on the other side of the lens. I take him to tasty places and we mmm… and ahh… and laugh and marvel at the wonders on the radio.

And this time, our last in Portland, there was something of the magical. Walking back to the car after lunch, taking an unplanned route, a cat, as if it had been waiting the whole of the morning, bound down the sidewalk to greet ME. My heart leapt and I gasped, for it was no ordinary cat, but a near twin for my dearly departed Paris. She flopped at my feet, in the same way she always did, and I rubbed her belly and stroked her tail, marveling at the silkiness, the turn of the head, the tufts of fur between her toes. Paris. I love you, Birdie. I miss you, so very, very much. And she, in her way, told me she was happy, no longer in pain, running, jumping, flying even, into my heart, up to the sky. Forever and always.

And Rob, for his part, bore witness. Neither of us would have believed it had we both not been there. Perfect timing. Thank you, Rob, for coming, for being one of my oldest and dearest friends, for being here and there.

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