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H o m e

Also, I changed the lamp.

Juniper and best pal, Juneau. That tongue!

Milkweed – I have two spritely sprouts that I hope will look this lovely next year.

Early morning walks

puddle gazing

We had the most lovely stretch of Portland storms – five days of me sighing wistfully, “Isn’t it wonderful?”, while just about everyone else I know was cursing under their breath. It takes all kinds.


R U N !

Someone had a birthday. I made cupcakes.


We spent the weekend with the mountain branch of my family, and after a twenty year absence, I was pleased at all that hasn’t changed – the curve of Buffalo Mountain, the quiet starlight and scent of morning, the aspen groves and hills dotted with wildflowers.

Sneaky me, and what sweet cousins I have, holding hands without anyone asking.

shooting stars…

Blue River

Sunrise hike – worth it!

Humon-GUS lives up to his name.

Uncle Ronnie in his element, and a first for me – I spent a rather large portion of my youth in Summit County, yet had never been on a boat on Lake Dillon. It was lovely!


Home Again

Gardening at night?

On the fence

Home again and back to our usual tricks with a Sunday hike at Homestead Ranch Park, beautiful and filled with the song of fine feathered friends. It’s good to be home.

Driving north Friday afternoon, May 19th. May 19th, snowy Colorado cold, my heart cratered and crushed, the talented and beautiful Chris Cornell dead and gone, and me and the hubster with tickets to a Soundgarden show that will never come to be. Life is full of surprises, some magical in their beauty, some terribly sad.

And these photos, taken in my grandparents neighborhood, which, save a Halloween when I was a wee child and have zero recollection, I had never really walked. So, many thanks to Ms. Juni B., without whom we never would have had reason to so thoroughly explore and spy a Wiley Coyote live and in person. What a privilege!

There was much that brought us north – a party to celebrate the son of a bestie graduating from high school (woot!), my own sweet nephew’s graduation (double woot!), and to spend time with my Grandpa. My Grandpa who is ninety-three and has cancer tendrils winding ever more thoroughly through his body. My Grandpa who now needs an oxygen snake following him about the house. My Grandpa who cries tenderly over the loss of my Grandma and looks with love and bewilderment at her beautiful face at every stage of her life. My Grandpa who I spoil with chocolates and his favorite home made meals – hollandaise with roasted asparagus, biscuits and gravy, and take out from our favorite (and BEST) tamale place – Moreno’s on Morrison Road – red, always, always red. We don’t speak of the inevitable, but it hovers and dances while we laugh and listen to our favorite songs.



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