Selected Shorts

I had a dream about a week ago that I had gotten a job in Moab at one of the parks there. I was living in a dusty little light-filled shack with great views of the surrounding landscape. My kitchen had door-less cupboards and I was rearranging my fiestaware to match the strata of sedimentary rock outside the door. Out with the blue and green dishes and a concentration on buff, yellow, orange, and scarlet -- stacks of iron-oxide-shaded plates. A couple of days ago, in real life, I stopped in the great kitchen store in Old Town FoCo and saw on display the new fiestaware color, Flamingo--a very soft and lovely pink. Oh yes, that belongs in the sandstone stack.

Today I took my car for it's regular service visit. In the waiting area, the women next to me were called that their car was ready. The younger woman tried to help the older woman up, but the older woman needed to sit back down. They apologized to me for behaving oddly, which honestly who would even think twice about something like that. And I said about as much, with a smile on my face. So the woman who had re-seated herself proceeded, in her sweet, little bird voice, to tell me about her recent brain tumor surgery and show me the impressive if horrifying incision across the top of her head from ear to ear. Of course she is weak and easily tired--the surgery a mere two weeks ago. The doctors think they got it and will proceed with radiation, but she'll be spared the chemo. She's 81, she told me. Her daughter wanted to rush her off, but I didn't mind talking to her. I rather enjoyed someone being so frank. And, wow, what a scar.

My stores have had lovely little mangoes of late. So I've been eating a lot of mangoes. Until I discovered, to my mild horror, that mango skin/juice contains the same chemical irritant as poison ivy and poison oak. I suppose one needs to eat a lot of them to experience this effect, but alas I ate a lot of them. Now my rash has overtaken my lips, spread up my nose and down my cheeks, over to my earlobes, and is moving to my neck, chest, and hands. I even have some bumps on my eyelid.

While in my sleeping hours I'm dreaming of the desert, my waking hours are all focused on Alaska. In January my father let slip an idea to drive to Alaska, as my grandmother did some decades back at an identical age to the one my father will be shortly. I said, "Now or Never." And so, Now. My prep work has involved making reservations for hotels, park visits, and ferry berths. Closer to home, my prep work involves getting the Kingfisher ship-shape and filled with emergency and comfort gear. To say that I am over-preparing would be to neglect the peace of mind that I derive from a thorough list. I think my grandmother would approve. We point the Kingfisher north June 30th.

Every morning I eat plain oatmeal with walnuts and raisins. Every evening I eat brown rice and a Tasty Bite Indian meal. During the day I eat a blueberry yogurt, cottage cheese, a hard-boiled egg, a string cheese, and a pile of cut-up raw vegetables. I intersperse fruit (but no longer mangoes). Surprisingly I am not bored by this. I eat it on my fiestaware, including the blue and the green.

MS Walk

A little day late and dollar short for this year's Fort Collins MS Walk. But when a coworker put up a fundraising sheet in the break room this week, I asked if I could crash the party and walk with his group today. Yes, of course. So no fundraising on my part, but a big crowd and a nice team to walk with. And now I know to get my act together for next year.

Just off to the right in this picture is the local prairie dog village. They were decidedly NOT happy about our presence.

Me with my friend and coworker Dan (he's normally wearing plaid). Dan's wife Linda's office is the team that I crashed/joined. Dan's jealous of my fancy Subaru and I'm jealous of his private office.

Cake Day

It was as good as it looks. May I recommend you steal this holiday and celebrate it often.