Colorado Springs

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How cute is Greg enjoying a prickly pear margarita last weekend? I made tamales, red chile, and Anasazi beans to go with them, which was marvelous and photographed poorly, but who really cares with that dazzler of a smile?

How are you? We are at day 15 without leaving the house besides a dog walk. Our food supply is pretty good, except for fresh produce, with three apples, three carrots, and one jalapeno and poblano left. We have plans to get rid of our thorny blackberries (OUCH!!) and replace them with lettuces and spinach, maybe some carrots, too. Though I am sincerely hoping it will be a bonus rather than a necessity, but who knows? These are such strange times.

Our health is good, some sniffles after a super windy walk yesterday, so hoping that doesn’t equate to anything serious. I am worried for my friends in the medical profession, as they are already having meetings about not having enough personal protective equipment to get through the crisis, despite government reports saying there are plenty to go around. And then there is every last person suffering financially. I know my prayers mean not a whit, so we are helping those we can how we can. May it be enough to sustain them until government money arrives.

This is Texas Sheet cake, also made last Sunday (p.s. – If you decide to try it and don’t like a cloyingly sweet cake, cut the sugar in half – you won’t regret it!). My friend Whitney was the first (maybe only?) person to make it for me, way back when I was a whippersnapper of twenty-two. I remember being in her kitchen on Albion Street in Denver, us chatting while she washed dishes, waxing poetic about how easy and delicious it was. I hit the pause button the moment she said it contained cinnamon. My rather unworldly upbringing had never-ever put cinnamon and chocolate together. How weird would it be? Would I like it? The answer was a resounding yes, and now, twenty-six years later, I cannot recall the number of times I have made this fabulous flavor combination.

After lamenting the soy flour contained in the blue corn pancake mix we bought in Santa Fe, I ordered some plain blue corn flour (masa) from Gold Mine and made a batch of pancakes the day the box arrived at our door. They were delicious! If you’d like to try your hand at them, they’ve been added to my long list of pancake recipe combinations that can be found here. Enjoy!

Feeling grateful for our every day walks, this beautiful city, and every moment that makes me smile, like this wee one on his way to work!

Whenever I feel overwhelmed with the news, I think on my light and inspiration, my Great Aunt Mary (who would have been 112 on St. Patrick’s Day!). The oldest of seven, she lived through the death of every one of her siblings, save my Grandma Tess, by 1975, the youngest at the age of twenty-five.

Her faith was boundless, and she was the most selfless, loving, and giving person I have ever known. Though she suffered many a heart break and disappointment, she never let her feathers ruffle, never uttered an unkind word. A smile was never far from her lips, nor a chuckle or a prayer. She walked her talk to the utmost!

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Just a quick hello on a beautiful snowy morning! It is cold, expected to top out at a whopping 16 degrees, but how cute is Juniper in her shoes (and wearing two coats!) and the trees in their frosty robes. Happy Tuesday!

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Palmer Park

Views from a couple Palmer Park walks. We’ve lived here for nearly four years, and I have only become more enamored with the park and our close proximity to it. I do a lot of counting of my lucky stars, I tell you!

And yesterday’s bedroom view. The windows were open wide to the 70 degree day! We sipped cool drinks in the sun and watered trees with snow melt. Juniper romped and rolled herself into filth. Luckily it was bath day, so she is silky and shining again. Good girl.

And now, in perfect winter fashion, it is 40 degrees cooler, and snow is falling. I love this place!

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We spent a wonderful, laughter-filled evening with the cousins Wednesday, at the super fun downtown Holiday Stroll. We love our time together!

We also love Colorado Springs! It’s a little weird, but it’s beautiful and full of heart. There were stands with free hot chocolate and cookies, while Santa (no photo, sadly), carolers, and a brass quartet strolled along with us.

We even got lucky a second time at Jack Quinn’s, scoring one of the special booths for a delicious dinner beforehand. I got my favorite Blarney Stone, and Greg is showing his goofball side with dessert. I love him so much!

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Kissing Camels

A sweet rain turned snowy Wednesday evening, bringing the usual welcome hush. The blanket wrapped us like wee babes and sent us into the deepest of sleeps. We awoke shockingly late on Thursday, got our daily workout in, and walked our sweet lover of snow dog. How she can be so fond of it, joyfully rooting and spinning and romping, yet do everything in her power to avoid a single drop from a sprinkler shall always be a curiosity.

As if the magnificent morning wasn’t enough, we went for broke with lunch, venturing to the Garden of the Gods, winding and winding through glorious snow capped views. Goodness, the name of the park never leans towards hyperbole. How crazy privileged we are, for flexible work at home hours and to have such wild wonder nearby. Lunch was green chile topped buffalo burgers, wedges of fudge (amaretto swirl (a tad too sweet!) and walnut), and boiling hot coffee. Natives living like tourists, delightedly so. I also bought a painting, a winter scene much like today, of the park.

I have been reading a bit, with The Wonder and The Strangler Vine the best of the recent lot. Oh, and my dearest reliable friend The Shell Seekers, for about the 25th time (no kidding!), tearing up at all the usual places, and feeling immense gratitude for the now departed (February 6th) – Rosamunde Pilcher.

I’ve turned out quite a few lovely pieces of jewelry, too, some of which I ought to photograph. Perhaps soon. I’ve also got movies to talk about, probably next post, a raft of gorgeous heart breakers and side splitters. And maybe a Seventies playlist, as we dove gaily headlong into it recently, with memories of barefooted endless summers, dancing in my room to Steve Winwood in his various incarnations, and Todd Rundgren and Bread and on and on. My word, that decade!

 

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