It's been snowing, it's snowing now, and the forecast calls for buckets more snow throughout the week with highs in the teens. Bring it, Old Man—try to knock the Post Christmas smile my haggard face, the Humbug Chip off my shoulder—give me your best shot and we'll see who's wearing shorts when you're all said, done, and blown out.
Monday, December 29, 2014
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Warning: At the risk of being labeled Mr. Grinch, I'm about to take a leak on the annual guilt-induced, corporate-shakedown madness known, ironically, as "The Holidays." I waited until after Christ's big Birthday Bash, in hopes I might avoid eternal damnation and hellfire.
Friday, December 19, 2014
If you have real estate lust in your hearts like we do, the above Miss December "pin-up" should be enough to quicken your pulse, initiate slow, deep breaths, and a tingling sensation that ripples up and down your spine. If only we could look so provocative on our 118th birthday.
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
Friends, Averill and Gary had a Yule Night Grand Opening of their new winter business endeavor, The Guide Garage. More than a tune-up shop for skis, it's a "Hang Out" for anyone who loves leaving tracks up in the snow-bowls on Red Mountain.
Monday, December 8, 2014
Friday, December 5, 2014
Wednesday, December 3, 2014
Two months can fly right off the calendar when you're having fun. We arrived back home to Lovely Ouray yesterday, and this morning I am wrapped in the loving arms of an overstuffed Lazy Boy rocker, fire blazing in the hearth, and watching snowflakes assemble on the deck. Bobbie is already up and out for her walk—one I couldn't yet face given the weather. Give me a day or two; some things take a little time to adjust…
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
After a long morning of whittling down carefully prepared checklists,
Monday, December 1, 2014
Of all the natural processes on this speck of a planet, erosion is my favorite. Maybe that explains my fascination with the American Southwest. It begs the question: What kind of person would choose an often stark, prickly, bone dry desert over lush, verdant woods—cracked dry skin and twice your age wrinkles over a soft, supple age-spotless exterior?