tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86142276678196774482024-02-19T02:49:24.091-06:00Project 60x60...and BeyondSixty, been there and done that. The birthday at least. Now I'm looking on to the next 30 years. Trying to make it as exciting and interesting as possible. Come along for the ride. Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.comBlogger457125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-18604284838912280012022-06-14T19:07:00.001-05:002022-06-14T19:07:19.153-05:00One Month In...<p> <span style="color: #ff00fe; font-size: large;">One month in and...a year late....</span></p><p><span style="color: #ff00fe; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: medium;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">This post was written almost exactly a year ago. For some reason, it was never published. I was probably going to add photos. Guess what? I'm skipping the photos and just putting it out there. Have another update coming soon. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: large;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);"><br /></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #134f5c; font-size: large;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">June 2021:</span></span></p><p>I'm doing it like I mean it. 100%. It has helped to have visitors because that gets me out exploring places I wouldn't normally go on my own. But I have absolutely explored Asheville and gotten myself "out there".</p><p>What have I done?</p><p>Restaurants and bars: Lots of them.</p><p>Some favorites:</p><p><a href="http://whiteducktacoshop.com" target="_blank">White Duck Taco</a> for street tacos and outdoor seating.</p><p><a href="https://thelobstertrap.biz" target="_blank">The Lobster Trap</a> for fresh lobster and Old Fashioneds.</p><p><a href="https://sunnypointcafe.com" target="_blank">Sunny Point Cafe</a> for breakfast calories. And I do mean calories. But sooooo yummy. Also they have a gorgeous little garden adjacent to the restaurant which you can wander through and see where those tiny flowers in your orange juice came from.</p><p><a href="https://isisasheville.com" target="_blank">Isis Music Hall</a> for music AND incredible food. I was expecting burgers and fries and instead there were Buffalo Chicken Gizzards and Mississippi Catfish. Plus great music in a small venue. Win Win.</p><p><a href="https://mellowmushroom.com" target="_blank">Mellow Mushroom</a> for pizza. Thin crust, lots of topping options.</p><p><a href="https://postero-hvl.com" target="_blank">Postero</a> in Hendersonville because it had the best Old Fashioned. (Lunch was good, also.)</p><p><a href="https://forestrycamp.com" target="_blank">Outpost at Forestry Camp</a> for atmosphere. Also a fun history. Only had a beer there but such a cool location and the menu looked interesting. I will go back.</p><p><a href="https://five-points-restaurant.business.site/?utm_source=gmb&utm_medium=referral" target="_blank">Five Points Restaurant </a>for Eggs Benedict. A total diner but they have the Eggs Benedict down pat.</p><p><a href="https://www.12bones.com" target="_blank">Twelve Bones Smokehouse</a> for ...duh... BBQ. </p><p>There are more, some just filled the bill for feeding me, others that just weren't my favorites. But I can say that the food scene in Asheville is strong. You won't go hungry and your palate will be happy.</p><p><a href="https://www.biltmore.com" target="_blank">The Biltmore.</a> My friend Diana lived in China and of course had plenty of visitors while she was there. One day she called me (while I was standing in a field with my horse in Texas) from the Great Wall. She went there with everyone that visited and eventually it got old for her. So while her visitors explored, she chatted up friends. The Biltmore will be my Great Wall, I can tell. I wisely bought the season pass on my first visit this month. I've now visited the house twice. But the grounds! O my. This is one of the places Carlos and I walk. A pass gives me access to the grounds every day for free. There are trails upon trails through the most beautifully landscaped property ever and it is surprisingly dog friendly. I love all the little stores on the grounds and even the food on site is yummy, albeit a bit pricey. (Read about my first visit<a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2020/09/two-fabulous-asheville-experiences.html" target="_blank"> here.</a>) </p><p><a href="https://www.ncarboretum.org" target="_blank">The North Carolina Arboretum</a>. Another place Carlos and I walk. Another pass I purchased first thing. Tons of trails, very dog friendly, you can bring in a picnic or a lawn chair and a book or both. Definitely the space is to be used and it is. I've seen painters, readers, hikers. </p><p><a href="https://www.romanticasheville.com/drumming_circle.htm" target="_blank">The Drum Circle </a>is an Asheville tradition that had been on hold during Covid. It is back now and sooo much fun. About 6pm every Friday night, drummers gather downtown in Pritchard Park and drum. People stop and watch, dance, gather. There does not seem to be a leader, the rhythm changes randomly but it has a very tribal feel about it. I had heard it's just a bunch of homeless people and drug addicts and I'm sure a few of the participants and audience fit that description but there were also babies in strollers and toddlers twirling and many drummers offering impromptu drum lessons to preteens. </p><p>The final resting place of O. Henry (<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Gift_of_the_Magi" target="_blank">Gift of the Magi</a>) is the <a href="https://maps.apple.com/place?address=53%20Birch%20St%2C%20Asheville%2C%20NC%20%2028801%2C%20United%20States&auid=18289000420003681432&ll=35.6012554%2C-82.5713919&q=Riverside%20Cemetery" target="_blank">Riverside Cemetery</a>. If I wanted to be buried, this would be the place. What a gorgeous place. Trees and crumbling gravestones. There's something about the feel of an old cemetery with the beautiful monuments and assortment of names. Lovely place to spend the afternoon wandering.</p><p>Since it is summer, there's baseball. Asheville has its own <a href="https://www.milb.com/asheville" target="_blank">High A Minor League team,</a> the Asheville Tourists, which feeds to the Houston Astros. Before 2020 it was a Colorado Rockies baby league team. How's that for synchronicity? Tickets are inexpensive, the stadium is intimate, parking is ..uh.. not well planned. But I enjoyed the game in spite of the Asheville Tourist's loss. </p><p>Last but not least, I have been joining some <a href="https://www.meetup.com/lp/how-to-group-start?utm_medium=SEM&utm_source=google&utm_campaign=mmrk_adwords_orgacq_us_branded&utm_term=group&utm_content=lp_grp_v2&gclid=Cj0KCQjwnueFBhChARIsAPu3YkSBqnTcaEJbuhxR_1jcaKIKR2NLCakQDQMcRiF4LzbZWXYdc729hGEaAtnsEALw_wcB" target="_blank">Meet Up </a>groups. One meets to wander some of the downtown trails and sidewalks. Others are beer drinking groups. There's a Taco Tuesday group that meets at different Mexican restaurants. Over all everyone has been super welcoming and friendly. Between the Meet Ups and friend Libby's social group, I feel like I've made some acquaintances that could become friends. For having been here a month, I'd say that's a grand start. </p><p>I've also navigated the allergist, the library, the watchmaker, the Subaru dealership and am familiar with many Goodwill locations in addition to the Habitat Restore. I realized the Ingles Grocery store is not the Inglés Grocery Store. I thought it catered to the Hispanic community here. Nope. It was started by all American Bob Ingles. I'm learning that my car GPS lies to me frequently and loves to take me on the most round about tours of the city. It's all an adventure. </p><p>Now. If only I could find a permanent place to live. When I started thinking of this move a year ago, housing prices were affordable. As we all know, housing prices have sky rocketed in the last six months. I looked at one house last week that was darling until I walked inside. If the black mold on the walls or the bowing paneling in the den didn't entice, there was always that pungent smell of cat pee that permeated the basement to make me feel like "ooo, this is home." Not. If I like it, I can't afford it. If I can afford it AND like it, then it is already under contract because, you know, it was on the market for three hours. I know the unicorn house is out there for me. Patience. And maybe it isn't here. Maybe I still need to check out Savannah and Beaufort and St. Petersburg. If only I had unlimited money to do the exploring.</p><p>In the meantime, I'm doing it like I mean it. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-51494722330793514562021-05-10T02:00:00.006-05:002021-05-10T02:00:00.186-05:00Voilà! Asheville and gone again...<p> <span style="color: #ff00fe; font-size: large;">Asheville and then gone...</span></p><p><br /></p><p>For Part One of this odyssey, click<a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2021/05/voila-im-in-asheville.html" target="_blank"> here.</a></p><p>This is Part Two where my friend and I leave Asheville after dropping off my car load of stuff and head South. </p><p>From Asheville we headed to Saint Augustine for the night. It was too long of a drive. We ended up having a decent seafood dinner at a loud touristy seafood restaurant in Saint Augustine Beach after a very harrowing wrong turn into a dead end street. Poor Roger thought he could get through behind a building but..oops!..that was not the case. He went about half way down the street before he realized it was a total dead end, not even a cul-de-sac to turn around in. Which meant he had to back up 27 feet of RV with another 10ft of car hauler on this narrow street at apparently the exact hour all of the residents arrived home. And no one was interested in waiting for us, instead they just yelled at us because "people are always turning around here, it says 'no outlet'". Ok. Thanks. That was so helpful. We made a mistake. No one died and nothing was run over. Roger persevered and was still smiling once we got turned around. Whew.</p><p>Also, there was zero social distancing or mask wearing at that touristy restaurant. Thank goodness for being vaccinated. </p><p>Saturday we arrived at the <a href="https://www.lioncountrysafari.com " target="_blank">Lion Country Safari</a> RV Park outside West Palm Beach where Belle lives with her very patient and sweet boyfriend. We dumped the RV, loaded up the dog (Miss Mina stayed behind in the air conditioned comfort of the RV)and headed to the Hilton Canopy hotel which backs up to Belle's condo. We were immediately whisked away to dinner at <a href="https://www.pbcatch.com" target="_blank">PB Catch</a>. Lovely and quiet and not touristy- the perfect antidote to the previous night. The seafood was excellent. Drinks followed at the <a href="https://chesterfieldpb.com/dining-and-drinks/the-leopard-lounge-bar" target="_blank">Leopard Lounge.</a> Check out their cool ceiling. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Y7uqcpsQdDMHf4WK5ZqUZvXDVR9qyiPdilwVJGWUNxYkDdajCM5ZJyTid3KART7X62l3qIeBV9nZ4psAsBIe5mmS7cN1pfCODTpjvcfdswQ2BxNMPB3YK5AbFF8RvIUxSXM0DY8vkbdM/s2048/IMG_1785.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Y7uqcpsQdDMHf4WK5ZqUZvXDVR9qyiPdilwVJGWUNxYkDdajCM5ZJyTid3KART7X62l3qIeBV9nZ4psAsBIe5mmS7cN1pfCODTpjvcfdswQ2BxNMPB3YK5AbFF8RvIUxSXM0DY8vkbdM/w480-h640/IMG_1785.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">I loved this painted ceiling with faces. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p> After dinner Belle and Mitchell came back to the room to see Carlos and it was such a happy reunion. Roger's daughter, also living in West Palm for the winter, stopped to see Carlos, too, as she had lived with him last summer. I'm sure Carlos was totally confused but also so happy to see all of these people that had disappeared on him.</p><p>And Sunday was sad. Belle came out to the RV park to see Mina and then Roger and I made a mad dash through Lion Country Safari. Well, as mad a dash as you can make on a busy Sunday. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ww9AOfXQoV4n7E-18u2keiJyg-CIAFcYEoqVcsfFN7jwTLzxXba8CW3naelQT4B0WkcvSrY0czN01o5K_8lWW_Mjg7qB1NnEPpAuyjn_zNFi236tBxSCMHfc3U7fqXldp2vpywZ-7Nqx/s4032/IMG_3175+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ww9AOfXQoV4n7E-18u2keiJyg-CIAFcYEoqVcsfFN7jwTLzxXba8CW3naelQT4B0WkcvSrY0czN01o5K_8lWW_Mjg7qB1NnEPpAuyjn_zNFi236tBxSCMHfc3U7fqXldp2vpywZ-7Nqx/w480-h640/IMG_3175+2.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">Belle looking a little two-headed with me behind her. </div></span><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">But look how happy she is to see Mina.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Belle brought both Carlos and Mina home as a teenager and then promptly moved away-</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"> leaving her pets with me. </span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Sigh. Isn't that how it always goes? </span></div><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCPDrYCUfWVvYvURpegrmh7yBWVKxY20a_MR3DzzlhO9-i1VDnMlMUS5IF_nuPyNSYvGt5EroEG4Z-8-igMApBfHJppqJdJuu_9GVZqQ_geRsCUC2WMfEr1vtQphJH_ZBMnzO8lCB0-aes/s2048/IMG_1789+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCPDrYCUfWVvYvURpegrmh7yBWVKxY20a_MR3DzzlhO9-i1VDnMlMUS5IF_nuPyNSYvGt5EroEG4Z-8-igMApBfHJppqJdJuu_9GVZqQ_geRsCUC2WMfEr1vtQphJH_ZBMnzO8lCB0-aes/w480-h640/IMG_1789+2.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">This ostrich pecked at everyone's decals.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">A whole line of cars was waiting for him to get out of the road and </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">he took advantage and inspected everyone's windshield.</span></div><br />Once the animals had been seen, Roger and I parted ways. He headed to his daughter's to pick up some furniture to haul back to Colorado. I drove to Tampa to see Bunny. While I am confident that I don't want to live in Colorado full time, I am certainly going to miss my friend. I'm working on convincing him he can live in two places. <p></p><p>Miss Bunny was just as happy as Belle to see her family pets. Carlos was not quite as welcoming to Bunny's boyfriend without Roger around. Carlos takes his family protection VERY seriously. Fortunately, that was short lived. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdyr-17tAHSVeNjs63z-1hwjSq6sH8gdbTvTuIXu-nc6ZBMhZM24gfcCfEUwCEtzbSZywJ2k9Ed7iGj2mB6NaDGzVkhecHecZnmEUdH8ZrH6P1DaUJZCJbAD-_s64xLcyYDaA9kMxcOw9/s1657/1A0F40FB-2348-46B5-A0DC-80ADF252339F.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1657" data-original-width="1657" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGdyr-17tAHSVeNjs63z-1hwjSq6sH8gdbTvTuIXu-nc6ZBMhZM24gfcCfEUwCEtzbSZywJ2k9Ed7iGj2mB6NaDGzVkhecHecZnmEUdH8ZrH6P1DaUJZCJbAD-_s64xLcyYDaA9kMxcOw9/w640-h640/1A0F40FB-2348-46B5-A0DC-80ADF252339F.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">Me, Carlos, Bunny. </div><div style="text-align: center;">He really was happy to see her even though he looks concerned here. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Carlos frequently looks concerned. </div></span><p></p><p>We had a lovely quick dinner at the boyfriend's parents' house and then I came back to her house and crashed. All of that driving just caught up with me. </p><p>I stayed an extra day at Bunny's house, ran some errands and then met the sweet boyfriend and family for another dinner at <a href="https://bartaco.com/location/tampa/?utm_source=yext&utm_medium=localsearch&utm_campaign=landing-page&utm_content=hyde-park" target="_blank">Bartaco</a>. Confusing ordering online but the tacos were yummy. I just wanted someone to take my order, though, rather than figure out how or if I had ordered my dinner. </p><p>Tuesday morning Carlos, Mina and I were loaded in the Subaru and off. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngfYwk1BBl8uT5M5zkO8rMVv-j7Uj1t4NJIDdaw5SfVT6tkJDsnZBmx1w1s7SOk33Uty3V0trFVoOUHR2N_fdI6KW6osCbEcgfbFvTS6F-au0exjoFzhoFxf4iUAYXABOACJvpWhx72f3/s2048/IMG_1833.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjngfYwk1BBl8uT5M5zkO8rMVv-j7Uj1t4NJIDdaw5SfVT6tkJDsnZBmx1w1s7SOk33Uty3V0trFVoOUHR2N_fdI6KW6osCbEcgfbFvTS6F-au0exjoFzhoFxf4iUAYXABOACJvpWhx72f3/w300-h400/IMG_1833.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">All of this traveling is just exhausting.</div></span><p>My goal was Savannah. I had booked a boring hotel on the highway since I had the animals with me. But then I had an Aha! moment. I REALLY wanted to see downtown Savannah. It's hard to leave Carlos in a hotel room though because he opens the door and lets himself out. But I downloaded a walking tour on my phone, told Mina to behave and off the two of us went to explore Savannah. And O! Driving into downtown I had the instinct to just ditch Asheville and move to Savannah. How beautiful. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbXysa8nBKIM6IDtn112hmBo2zKfiylqrwyhShIDGaLpZ6x5Mg-BQCBlf36coFrPK8KLl374NZ4rrExQvcukkNLxm13Q8zs_mZ2hazo9fnnuXRnB35rICiPsIwb4a3xz8moasnBa1Fp73/s2048/IMG_1843.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtbXysa8nBKIM6IDtn112hmBo2zKfiylqrwyhShIDGaLpZ6x5Mg-BQCBlf36coFrPK8KLl374NZ4rrExQvcukkNLxm13Q8zs_mZ2hazo9fnnuXRnB35rICiPsIwb4a3xz8moasnBa1Fp73/w480-h640/IMG_1843.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">There were statues...</div></span><p>It even SMELLED good. We gave up on the tour pretty quickly- I got turned around reading the map- and just wandered. So many people out, the parks are gorgeous, the downtown historic district was amazing and I just don't understand why I'm not living in one of those beautiful historic townhomes. I WILL go back. It's also on my Zillow morning real estate porn list now.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6drDq4XTo_DQ1pELwW3CEPM57tvGl9LME2-eEl7P2V0hzyslptpxHMRbf_qNSHyslWDpxjXjzYc_DDE_lS-AI5NJZyNcWvXhMCUZdH1T53RMC8JSlP3JvaFva88a8aIeLIRBLe-18JMUw/s2048/IMG_1844.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6drDq4XTo_DQ1pELwW3CEPM57tvGl9LME2-eEl7P2V0hzyslptpxHMRbf_qNSHyslWDpxjXjzYc_DDE_lS-AI5NJZyNcWvXhMCUZdH1T53RMC8JSlP3JvaFva88a8aIeLIRBLe-18JMUw/w640-h480/IMG_1844.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">And trees dripping Spanish moss...</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_nlprzVUZqdC3605kX5IgEaZ9Np_8yPCk-Bn4JHVkqx_VajPas58JtbS6yfSEPnLQszRMKvoS5W8ZYRft-7DJBiH5hlXmjUd86btUCHZEK_jjKpipOE2bhwvI81DEvMO0QzJpkOiDdBea/s2048/IMG_1849.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_nlprzVUZqdC3605kX5IgEaZ9Np_8yPCk-Bn4JHVkqx_VajPas58JtbS6yfSEPnLQszRMKvoS5W8ZYRft-7DJBiH5hlXmjUd86btUCHZEK_jjKpipOE2bhwvI81DEvMO0QzJpkOiDdBea/w480-h640/IMG_1849.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Plus historic buildings with gorgeous stairs.</span></div><p><br /></p><p>The next day I loaded up the animals and decided to visit Tybee Island before we left the area. Only 30 minutes from downtown, it seemed a shame not to go. But...it turns out dogs are not allowed on the beaches at all. So I went to the Lighthouse-climbed all 150 stairs to the top- and took a picture of the beach at least. It looked so inviting. Again, I will go back.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3JQRlNrWe9XqJCNCVyiOnvXHMd7cKGM0tvxk8P-kk1-bserdbsx0-tvPqfRndjqUrG7L4I2BY7iHZFLQi9uZbbp3lr8WY6Ud9coJsuLhoGA6H-cN2ojRNeqRJdXS5sk7d2O4GMisQ7hyL/s2048/IMG_1853.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3JQRlNrWe9XqJCNCVyiOnvXHMd7cKGM0tvxk8P-kk1-bserdbsx0-tvPqfRndjqUrG7L4I2BY7iHZFLQi9uZbbp3lr8WY6Ud9coJsuLhoGA6H-cN2ojRNeqRJdXS5sk7d2O4GMisQ7hyL/w480-h640/IMG_1853.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">The Tybee Island Lighthouse.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">My legs were sore for dayyyyyyssss.</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzYGXTrx10nT8dLAGidOB-bqcf1A7PjREg9ay4KSoTRvFVW5j8In5kaqiwCxHCtMPT0zanIPaTG7K8FgMNMXf5q5EZdZvb3blOy8kjbArIPpPD3aE3UDT9tA8hRqWE6YbHYbrGb_xQzitM/s2048/IMG_1854.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzYGXTrx10nT8dLAGidOB-bqcf1A7PjREg9ay4KSoTRvFVW5j8In5kaqiwCxHCtMPT0zanIPaTG7K8FgMNMXf5q5EZdZvb3blOy8kjbArIPpPD3aE3UDT9tA8hRqWE6YbHYbrGb_xQzitM/w640-h480/IMG_1854.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">And the beach. No dogs allowed, $300 fine. Bah humbug.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span>And then...<p></p><p>we headed North West. Arrived in Asheville early evening. And have been here ever since. A total of 3200 miles traveled to get here.</p><p>I did wake up the first morning in this very sparsely furnished apartment and think "what the Hell am I doing?" I have a blow up air mattress, two chairs and a folding table. One friend in Asheville, another couple in Hendersonville just 30 minutes away are my only connections. </p><p>Then I remembered the rule I used when I moved to Colorado full time. <i><b><a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2017/10/like-i-mean-it.html" target="_blank">Do it like you mean it.</a></b></i></p><p>Also I reminded myself that there is no law that says I can't change my mind. This is an exploratory adventure. I can live just about anywhere. This is my time to figure out where that will be. </p><p>So I researched parks, museums, contacted a woman about a silver working class, joined MeetUp, and perused Bumble. (Bit of a waste unless I'm looking for Conservative Christians...a group I have soured on.) Took the first two days to put the apartment in order and stock the kitchen. Joined a MeetUp group for Taco Tuesday. Met some new people. Visited the arboretum and walked Carlos until we both dropped. It's exhausting being social after a solid year spent with basically one person. But. I am doing it like I mean it.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP6u7mwRLbgZdYUyRC3P2t9x0gUaN8KkPx016I6oIQC6Trzuorii2vx1IaM3zRYkJ9IyxImXQ9Q9RJMC2Pkmc5TmVBOWK_YabuTc2VOWZ0WyU5vEA-YLpVDu3Got2hD2bUu8C9Um4if472/s2048/IMG_1874.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP6u7mwRLbgZdYUyRC3P2t9x0gUaN8KkPx016I6oIQC6Trzuorii2vx1IaM3zRYkJ9IyxImXQ9Q9RJMC2Pkmc5TmVBOWK_YabuTc2VOWZ0WyU5vEA-YLpVDu3Got2hD2bUu8C9Um4if472/w480-h640/IMG_1874.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">So much green at the Arboretum.</div></span><p>Friend Diana is coming this weekend. I am slowly getting plans in place for the rest of the month. I do want to go spend some days in Savannah. I've heard its a great place to visit, but not so great to live. I need to see for myself. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div></div>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-52002586153472783072021-05-05T08:47:00.000-05:002021-05-05T08:47:10.815-05:00Voilà! I'm in Asheville...<p> <span style="color: #ff00fe; font-size: large;"><b>Voilà! I'm in Asheville, North Carolina.</b></span></p><p><span style="color: #ff00fe; font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p>O. If only it were that simple. </p><p>I am in Asheville. Sweet friend Roger drove me here and by that I mean he DROVE every single mile of the trip to Asheville and then down to West Palm. The little Subaru was on a car hauler behind the RV, loaded with my stuff. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWtyB2n6JL6ZJ-3xw10PMYUjQu1zVvFhRnHeQd6XvpYw1HEFcfinx8TrMo9qIekcSGRgoFjt7rZXE36ZPzhrub5FuT2DTe1UDfbJIawiLYLCFAmfBGfRteDTv_hHkcnOicYFgjCVPKfOir/s2048/IMG_1745.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWtyB2n6JL6ZJ-3xw10PMYUjQu1zVvFhRnHeQd6XvpYw1HEFcfinx8TrMo9qIekcSGRgoFjt7rZXE36ZPzhrub5FuT2DTe1UDfbJIawiLYLCFAmfBGfRteDTv_hHkcnOicYFgjCVPKfOir/w480-h640/IMG_1745.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">This was terrifying. One of those situations where you better hit your mark.</div></span><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVit2aBJDWHBiSt0-sYO9pc-5QkH-IXUnbqNkyBUvWeWvz7SV8q8ICbfb62yrb1vG6kQPX2faoqa_21brkBVExJ8M5R8N7bqU2QQ4DzL_JQxoucrS9OKiNrsfr_tlzv5Ekun8GxYv56rxR/s2048/IMG_1746.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVit2aBJDWHBiSt0-sYO9pc-5QkH-IXUnbqNkyBUvWeWvz7SV8q8ICbfb62yrb1vG6kQPX2faoqa_21brkBVExJ8M5R8N7bqU2QQ4DzL_JQxoucrS9OKiNrsfr_tlzv5Ekun8GxYv56rxR/w480-h640/IMG_1746.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Eeeeeee!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN445N3HJgHk2MP-OmEXaMWGMgx3nFfEAjj0UacRMJb4gaY4VptJZyNL-s9NgrdDNlW51GMFTyULkqRXtSWAgcd2VGZdTWilVo8RNW2I8xwRP_rKGip6PahJmmIlHsaSQ8a312EdBCm5jq/s4032/IMG_1747.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN445N3HJgHk2MP-OmEXaMWGMgx3nFfEAjj0UacRMJb4gaY4VptJZyNL-s9NgrdDNlW51GMFTyULkqRXtSWAgcd2VGZdTWilVo8RNW2I8xwRP_rKGip6PahJmmIlHsaSQ8a312EdBCm5jq/w640-h480/IMG_1747.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">I did it! Whew!</span></div><p></p><p>Carlos, Mina and I sat in comfort in the front seat of the RV and helped navigate. Well, I sat in the seat and helped navigate. Mina sat in my lap most of the trip or under the emergency brake and she tried to sit in her most preferred spot- under the brake pedal-but I think we convinced her that was a bad idea. (That involved the hand brake and some yelling with me butt up trying to pull her back out.)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzLtwQbEbSmr1RLwEIPyc8f3i7mWN7HO_M_ZOec909rkEpk6Jt9NX1t9kvNCgoNG74iW4D6jb0B5UTzD41_RFfKi_FZWPVtNewW_XmWGgRKnvlGvx5YWvBB_esicpnqSlN0WJbQYgOXWmM/s2048/773E3CF9-767E-498B-9155-B51668677169.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzLtwQbEbSmr1RLwEIPyc8f3i7mWN7HO_M_ZOec909rkEpk6Jt9NX1t9kvNCgoNG74iW4D6jb0B5UTzD41_RFfKi_FZWPVtNewW_XmWGgRKnvlGvx5YWvBB_esicpnqSlN0WJbQYgOXWmM/w640-h640/773E3CF9-767E-498B-9155-B51668677169.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">Mina Kitty tucked up in my lap. Like having a nice warm blanket.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnpRi42FH1cvBi1Ky33ZD-5X8x580MigSSpEgT-iV3FcQ7HriY6px3eSASWfoigPe5s14WPsmTWrlE3oGxHU-yYNz5-BNS-FVHFkrdUlinx1A3fzb2TxnJFlq3MoHidBp0I2KGzw6Lp2PL/s2048/793FEE1B-F533-45D6-8FDD-86D74C5D3C8E+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnpRi42FH1cvBi1Ky33ZD-5X8x580MigSSpEgT-iV3FcQ7HriY6px3eSASWfoigPe5s14WPsmTWrlE3oGxHU-yYNz5-BNS-FVHFkrdUlinx1A3fzb2TxnJFlq3MoHidBp0I2KGzw6Lp2PL/w640-h640/793FEE1B-F533-45D6-8FDD-86D74C5D3C8E+2.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">We FINALLY convinced her this was NOT the place to sleep.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">It wasn't pretty though.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div>Carlos slept under my feet, for some reason terrified that the "house" was moving. He was ok on the highway but the stopping and starting absolutely put him over the edge. <div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ejoIhA1R2q0ns5QiVY88pKi1j8sbXtW6Vwiv0NXJYxfVDZRgShycC5tQ78e4pyfIkeCuiPnLeJY7_XTdQoDyWC6u6t7W6HL7E9Z99gCJ6sbJaWoZzKdsTAFgAOfzRtfLMvD0FNipEIAv/s2048/E5F85183-563B-4E32-A6CA-CBC5B0969684.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ejoIhA1R2q0ns5QiVY88pKi1j8sbXtW6Vwiv0NXJYxfVDZRgShycC5tQ78e4pyfIkeCuiPnLeJY7_XTdQoDyWC6u6t7W6HL7E9Z99gCJ6sbJaWoZzKdsTAFgAOfzRtfLMvD0FNipEIAv/w640-h640/E5F85183-563B-4E32-A6CA-CBC5B0969684.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Eventually the animals settled under my feet and under the emergency brake.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">For about 2000 miles.</span></div><p>We left Saturday, April 17 from Golden with one minor problem. The RV stabilizers did not retract so they were dragging on the ground causing Carlos much anguish. What a racket! A quick stop at Camping World where Roger pulled in, asked the first people he saw if they could help and they did. I'm not even sure those people worked there but they knew what to do. </p><p>The first night was spent in Salina, KS at the Hog Valley RV and Treehouse Resort. Expectations were low but it was actually a lovely spot. On our way we stopped at the<a href="https://www.thedishroomburlington.com" target="_blank"> Dish Room </a>in Burlington, CO for dinner. OMG. Out in the middle of nowhere and they had Wagyu beef and seafood and it was<i> excellent.</i> Definitely recommend if you are going that way. We arrived at our campsite at 3am due to the delay with the stabilizers. Roger was still smiling. I was in awe. </p><p>Next was Bentonville, AR and the <a href="https://crystalbridges.org">Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art</a>. Please go. Alice Walton of the Walmart family founded it as a non profit charitable organization and it is admission free due to her. The visit is worth it just for the buildings and grounds. Dogwoods and redbud trees were blooming as we walked the extensive trails that were dotted with sculpture. Inside there was a special exhibit of Crafting America which sparked a debate of what was art and what was craft. Definitely most of what was in the exhibit was labeled craft but qualified as art in my book.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbJdP3IAOxQjf9s413b2isWwyWPZ7a8cAzyz01uTuVbSPHTsfjdBxHafcBTtNsn-h0YqqD_RVf3jZ6FGs06cZkOCFW7C-fD4DOMMZKdTsY-eWA1M35-bbQq0ncBZU60kJc-AiParHom-JK/s2048/IMG_1756.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbJdP3IAOxQjf9s413b2isWwyWPZ7a8cAzyz01uTuVbSPHTsfjdBxHafcBTtNsn-h0YqqD_RVf3jZ6FGs06cZkOCFW7C-fD4DOMMZKdTsY-eWA1M35-bbQq0ncBZU60kJc-AiParHom-JK/w640-h480/IMG_1756.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Crystal Bridges Museum</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Look at those red buds. The blooming trees were magnificent.</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-BAJFpxWjPtCopZW23FJNoW4qwDUPh2RLh7nXbNJVWySA2bEaElFUSYmFf7rlAk7pPRY-OaJdEyKElF8Febvags-MsuZ3xCGBCyIoZdg8bc3VWCRt0ZjpPWJ090AuAOJfftUC39JOGWJ/s2048/IMG_1757.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-BAJFpxWjPtCopZW23FJNoW4qwDUPh2RLh7nXbNJVWySA2bEaElFUSYmFf7rlAk7pPRY-OaJdEyKElF8Febvags-MsuZ3xCGBCyIoZdg8bc3VWCRt0ZjpPWJ090AuAOJfftUC39JOGWJ/w480-h640/IMG_1757.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">That ceiling!</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzuufsC6ovvVoErJpQEpweWxYEzFBMjo2McTgbW9lqBTMpiZ-dojO8LGfq1lDb6zhkJqKPw6nNzAawGJTNgbsIKm71OSyHPygHHJt2x1PRuPX8qzcORt-PJvSMPtpD0KwetlRZHVthGQG0/s2048/IMG_1758.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzuufsC6ovvVoErJpQEpweWxYEzFBMjo2McTgbW9lqBTMpiZ-dojO8LGfq1lDb6zhkJqKPw6nNzAawGJTNgbsIKm71OSyHPygHHJt2x1PRuPX8qzcORt-PJvSMPtpD0KwetlRZHVthGQG0/w640-h480/IMG_1758.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">The landscaping! </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">I had never heard of this place.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Now I want to go back.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">In Memphis the next night we stayed at the Graceland RV park right across the street from Graceland. We figured we would just take Lyft into downtown Memphis, have some Barbecue and then Lyft back. After a lovely messy dinner at </span><a href="https://www.bbkings.com" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">BB King's BBQ </a><span style="text-align: left;">we stayed for the live music. Wandering outside at 10:30pm (granted it was a Monday) we tried to order a Lyft to go home. Nada. Crickets. Nothing. I tried Uber. Nothing. We wandered over to the </span><a href="https://www.peabodymemphis.com/?utm_source=local-directories&utm_medium=organic&utm_campaign=travelclick-localconnect-featured" style="text-align: left;" target="_blank">Peabody Hotel</a><span style="text-align: left;"> thinking maybe we might have better luck there. Nope. I asked the valet and he gave me the number for some taxis. Nope. A couple of policeman were walking out of the hotel and I stopped one, asking if he had any suggestions. At this point it was almost midnight and we had come close to resigning ourselves to just getting a hotel room and going back to the RV in the morning. The police conferred and finally offered to take us back to the RV park as long as we didn't mind sitting in the back of their patrol car. Being desperate, that sounded like a splendid idea. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8HNVE1_ZLsWSRE8Gvfnh7VntlqUs7gyoNDjxYsNvJbmJg-pSs2-JNUeUDYpSI2VN0j6qMdNQR4aQ0AM_B7IQ7NXa2zg7PFt0W4Ivf4lhQSASxqymV8RNyU84-vi9hWb4aSBumyR3FNAk3/s2048/IMG_1768.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8HNVE1_ZLsWSRE8Gvfnh7VntlqUs7gyoNDjxYsNvJbmJg-pSs2-JNUeUDYpSI2VN0j6qMdNQR4aQ0AM_B7IQ7NXa2zg7PFt0W4Ivf4lhQSASxqymV8RNyU84-vi9hWb4aSBumyR3FNAk3/w640-h480/IMG_1768.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;">After over an hour of trying to find a ride home, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">we finally were locked into the back of a police car and returned to the RV park.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">Let me just say, the back of a police car is not limo material. Pretty sure no AC was coming our way. The seats were the plushest molded plastic, no seat belts. At least the plexiglass divider was clean! And no, there are no handles on the inside of back seat police car doors, so we had to wait for them to let us out. They even managed to miss the turn so we were treated to a flash of the lights and a squeal of siren. Even though we assured them it was perfectly fine to drop us at the entrance to the park, they insisted on driving in and letting us off at our door at almost 1 in the morning. The neighbors were giving us the side eye the next morning. So. While there has been plenty of police brutality and police aggression in the news recently, there are good cops out there. We had two of the nicest cops ever. </span></div><p>We did make a run through <a href="https://www.graceland.com" target="_blank">Graceland</a> the next morning as Roger had not seen it and EVERYONE needs to at least see the <a href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/the-jungle-room-at-graceland-memphis-tennessee" target="_blank">Jungle Room</a> once.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbkT8pTLlVRY89F-pWO-WoQIMZMXF86aWHOdeQahRm-U9uSmDGtSYozuz7gdq6gvaCq4zSap7UplFIsyO1pECZv1eUXowRLGZ2L2SCjMelLYdDUtaPSTR9GYItBQew73PAyXHh0ogeFMbF/s1280/IMG_1770.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbkT8pTLlVRY89F-pWO-WoQIMZMXF86aWHOdeQahRm-U9uSmDGtSYozuz7gdq6gvaCq4zSap7UplFIsyO1pECZv1eUXowRLGZ2L2SCjMelLYdDUtaPSTR9GYItBQew73PAyXHh0ogeFMbF/w640-h480/IMG_1770.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">Me, in the Jungle Room, at Graceland.</div></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">I am not wearing suspenders, that's my iPad guide.</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">And obviously, RV travel is not the best for hair styling. O well.</span></div><p>A stop in Nashville was uneventful because apparently everything shuts down on a Tuesday due to COVID. That's ok, we were ready to have a quiet night. </p><p>Finally we arrived in Asheville. We unloaded my Subaru which had been lounging in back of the RV on a car hauler. All of the stuff inside was dropped at the apartment which will be my home for the next few months. We took my "landlady" out to dinner at the <a href="https://thelobstertrap.biz" target="_blank">Lobster Trap</a> that evening as a mini thanks. Yum. It's been ages since I've had lobster and this did not disappoint.</p><p>And then....</p><p>the trip continued. </p><p>Sixteen hundred miles down. Another 700 miles to go in the RV before Roger and I parted ways.</p><p>More to come.</p></div>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-55855808183892459672021-04-15T06:00:00.018-05:002021-04-15T06:00:00.181-05:00The Next Step...<p> <span style="color: #ff00fe; font-size: large;">The next <span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">step....</span></span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">is sorting. And more sorting. Tossing. Paring down. Examining the flotsam and jetsam of my life. </span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">I truly thought I was well prepared for the move. Everything was in a box or wrapped or otherwise contained. Multiple trips were made to the dump and Goodwill. The local thrift store bought most of my furniture for pennies. Beds were given away.</span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">But no. </span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">I had ordered a 15 foot moving truck from UHaul A real live moving van could not get down my road or out of my drive. Fifteen feet seemed plenty big. I mean, I had given away or sold most of my furniture. I lined up a neighbor and a "professional" to actually move the boxes. Friend drove the UHaul down from Golden since that is where everything was going for storage.</span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">Moving day arrived and I panicked realizing there was still the artwork to secure. A quick text to my sweet sweet neighbor meant last minute help. The van and friend arrived. At the appointed hour, neighbor showed up. And where was my "professional" mover that had stopped by, looked at all my stuff, agreed to a price and assured me he would be at my house at 3pm? I texted him at 3:15pm and asked if he was on his way. His reply:</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">"</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Got caught up down in Canon City I can't make it sorry I just been busy"</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cañon City is an hour away. What an asshole. That is the nicest thing I could say. Not even the decency to give me a heads up. </span></span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">So. Friend and neighbors and I loaded the truck. And realized that basically the cabin had 3 levels plus a shed and a 15' truck wasn't big enough. Five hours later, the truck was filled, the excess was stored in neighbor's garage and we were all exhausted. I can not say enough about how fabulous everyone was. No complaining, no disappearances, absolutely everyone had an attitude of "well, we need this to be done so let's do it." Honestly you cannot buy friends like that. I am so fortunate. </span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">Closing was the following day and I got to meet the young couple who bought the cabin. It was a bit shocking to hear they had not SEEN the place until that morning. Their brother/realtor had looked at it and sent them pics. I'm sure they were having flashes of "why the Hell are we buying a house in the middle of nowhere?" but it's to be a second home and retreat for their extended family and small kids so it will be perfect. </span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">After closing, friend drove the UHaul to Golden while I followed in my car, and then we spent the day unloading. The next morning we got a trailer and drove back the 3.5 hours to the neighbor's garage and picked up the rest of the stuff. And drove back. And unloaded it. Not one grumble. Not one dirty look. He deserves an award for patience. That was Saturday when we finally finished. We had started loading on Wednesday.</span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">Not one photograph was taken of this process. Didn't have the energy.</span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">And then what do you do when everything you own is in storage and you have no job? Take a trip!</span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">I left Tuesday for Texas to see the mama and get my hair highlighted. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifZyrxjgErt1dnCNr1pDVIVdD4E97Zf3_xOYjO3a2LdfDG17AwauJIglvAAyUQ41DI-SE6y_F4KgT4JB8DjOujbUlVqtG0lnEPNt2gtIeSRvXxZsPejMt7ajHM4hE8OdCBhdpK84_QaFe/s2048/IMG_1685.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifZyrxjgErt1dnCNr1pDVIVdD4E97Zf3_xOYjO3a2LdfDG17AwauJIglvAAyUQ41DI-SE6y_F4KgT4JB8DjOujbUlVqtG0lnEPNt2gtIeSRvXxZsPejMt7ajHM4hE8OdCBhdpK84_QaFe/w640-h480/IMG_1685.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">Me and the mama, masked but not socially distanced. </div></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">Hey! I have priorities! I also managed to see a couple of friends, the boy and my dermatologist. And I came back to Colorado blonde and less wrinkled! Friend joined me on Wednesday and I took him on the "Heritage Tour" of where I grew up, past my church and elementary school, and even down to the coast to see our old creek house. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWIDhi2JaKkLH-BYwtyTtfCdGy68Wd21Pm0FQLeaYeASkCzZLqlWTDdM5ztCyOJd5VXxm1fo-vtZ7ay2L4w4rpwBvRy-Nregm6pihB5ZhqHG81hgWOhiFmOmgMrqP4ob0ZlyvrQqacZN3L/s2048/IMG_1719.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWIDhi2JaKkLH-BYwtyTtfCdGy68Wd21Pm0FQLeaYeASkCzZLqlWTDdM5ztCyOJd5VXxm1fo-vtZ7ay2L4w4rpwBvRy-Nregm6pihB5ZhqHG81hgWOhiFmOmgMrqP4ob0ZlyvrQqacZN3L/w640-h480/IMG_1719.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"> The house that made me.</div></span><p></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">Now back in Golden, I have returned to sorting and tossing. I will be apartment camping in Asheville, NC for a few months. The only things that can go with me are what will fit in the Subaru. It will be towed behind friend's RV. The dog and cat will get to ride in comfort. What do you actually NEED for three months? Some fold up chairs and a table? Art supplies? Dishes? I plan on giving myself a very limited budget and see just how well I can temporarily furnish this apartment. It will be an ADVENTURE.</span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">Every morning, the real estate porn pops into my inbox. If Asheville is what I hope, I will look for a house. Friend and I are navigating a long distance relationship and how that will work. He is supportive of my need to get out of the snow and find someplace that is mine.</span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);">I'm writing a new chapter.</span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);"><br /></span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);"><br /></span></p><p><span style="color: #ff00fe; font-size: large;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 254);"><br /></span></span></p>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-87242976423229714992021-03-15T06:00:00.014-05:002021-03-15T06:00:00.171-05:00Once again. Sold!<p><b><span style="color: #ff00fe;">SOLD!</span></b></p><p>Once again, the cabin has sold. This time for real. If you don't know what I'm talking about, click <a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2020/10/eeek.html" target="_blank">here</a>. Closing on April 1. All of the inspections have been passed, haggling has been done, appraisal was good. The problem in the Fall turned out to be the foundation which was a surprise since 11 years ago the cabin was declared to be a "solid well built little" place. Hmmm. Pretty sure nothing changed with the foundation in that time period. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_k_zl2rhfdE3EdxYQhDcOEpOlqd6tXSWHzqMn0EihwxAsccWnpC9sYd8BgBVrPeVIeaoiOIXz1cmjL8qtOp_6MZ9KBhwuA0JhhpheZMtO779N6CNOwBiYM0H-kUxdoNo8s2cAWcyECME/s835/380F6B1C-CCCC-4A59-B82C-9805CD3D76A0.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="835" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_k_zl2rhfdE3EdxYQhDcOEpOlqd6tXSWHzqMn0EihwxAsccWnpC9sYd8BgBVrPeVIeaoiOIXz1cmjL8qtOp_6MZ9KBhwuA0JhhpheZMtO779N6CNOwBiYM0H-kUxdoNo8s2cAWcyECME/w640-h476/380F6B1C-CCCC-4A59-B82C-9805CD3D76A0.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">A "For Sale" sign out front. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">It's covered in snow right now.</span></div><p>So...I took the house off the market and tried to find someone to shore up the place. Ha! Finding someone to do the work was like finding unicorns in the grocery store. I finally decided to come down on the price and see what might happen... Two weeks of showings and Voila! a contract. Actually two of them. And a tiny bidding war. And then an agreement. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidBZ6uWIBIUGKWvI4gmUp9Wbxl0ajnXydh9nbQoCUAam6MDcVdyHijMr2MCGJEB7MNugwuCEugLBznAasYorYFYM-nhRl_c4drxFVH_IQd5g899e6XyTEnog23bUth41j7IeVxZf7oN0m-/s2048/IMG_1194.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidBZ6uWIBIUGKWvI4gmUp9Wbxl0ajnXydh9nbQoCUAam6MDcVdyHijMr2MCGJEB7MNugwuCEugLBznAasYorYFYM-nhRl_c4drxFVH_IQd5g899e6XyTEnog23bUth41j7IeVxZf7oN0m-/w480-h640/IMG_1194.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Love this little cabin, but it's time to move on.</span></div><p>So I am packing boxes and making collections for Goodwill and basically turning everything upside down. My last day of work will be this coming Friday.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN0LK3Eslchumh8pLsN6BImOPQs1cJD0xIkyuoStIHZsWKzHLYPg5gRnu4t74jWImpNdEsN0onGc6XOHDP-wGMjbJQUR4o1gl7Z2aDloTOCC9wNgPlDufRtZPDB6RlHi5Ux6OuUC2MTS0v/s640/IMG_1648.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN0LK3Eslchumh8pLsN6BImOPQs1cJD0xIkyuoStIHZsWKzHLYPg5gRnu4t74jWImpNdEsN0onGc6XOHDP-wGMjbJQUR4o1gl7Z2aDloTOCC9wNgPlDufRtZPDB6RlHi5Ux6OuUC2MTS0v/w480-h640/IMG_1648.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Just a tiny bit of the mess I've made this weekend.</span></div><p>I will have neither a home nor a job and no clue as to how I'll support this next step. Fortunately I owned the cabin outright so there will be a little money to tide me over. And I intend to begin as I plan to continue. The goal is to never have another office job. The other goal is to do something creative.</p><p>Am I scared? A tiny bit. Excited? Definitely. How many times in your life do you get to pick where you live? I have a few requirements. I want to live on a paved road with animals that won't eat me, have an airport within an hour, less winter than I have now and preferably a city under 100,000.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzqMmSrBMLT-DRE05kdkZBkwAAVVJVNCqmSS31YZ3AZorbp_zEdFcp4Tvjle-xwkjDZ4n4eDprkGnP9-3MKzhfFKuujyX6iB3OzsmQ0HEq_sEKvYrwsm0QtaLbX29mLdXp8vdGdAxgWqYS/s1440/DADD67E1-8890-459F-8CE5-679E816502BC.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1439" data-original-width="1440" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzqMmSrBMLT-DRE05kdkZBkwAAVVJVNCqmSS31YZ3AZorbp_zEdFcp4Tvjle-xwkjDZ4n4eDprkGnP9-3MKzhfFKuujyX6iB3OzsmQ0HEq_sEKvYrwsm0QtaLbX29mLdXp8vdGdAxgWqYS/w640-h640/DADD67E1-8890-459F-8CE5-679E816502BC.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">Out the front door today. I'm ready to be done with this.</div></span><p>This cabin has served its purpose. It was the perfect place to land after my divorce. I've made fabulous friends, challenged myself more than I dreamed and interacted with more wild animals than I cared to. But...civilization beckons. </p><p>To that end, I'll be subletting an apartment in Asheville, NC for a few months. If I love it there then I'll look for a permanent spot. If not, I'll test drive Florida- I do have two daughters there. Mexico is always on the menu but with a dog and a cat I think that will be further down the road. I guess it's not impossible that I could end up back in Colorado or even Texas. But probably not.</p><p>Stay tuned. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHCcIQs3Wva8Ski3bjXsRHmQlIBRSMGz9VOjt1YnCVW5e8ISZ0i9yvKlqcAebNDpxek7UQAZe9aQLf5DILGJ6W_uUX35VWWRijTiasO_-hwDbAQKrGIsHI1Cswxny4F7nh_sV7ooOAglUh/s1420/IMG_3039.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="639" data-original-width="1420" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHCcIQs3Wva8Ski3bjXsRHmQlIBRSMGz9VOjt1YnCVW5e8ISZ0i9yvKlqcAebNDpxek7UQAZe9aQLf5DILGJ6W_uUX35VWWRijTiasO_-hwDbAQKrGIsHI1Cswxny4F7nh_sV7ooOAglUh/w640-h288/IMG_3039.jpeg" width="640" /></a><span style="color: #0b5394;">Wise words.</span></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-53269255836825975512020-10-27T04:30:00.002-05:002020-10-27T10:55:39.328-05:00EEEK!!!<p> So this happened. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKjMjgly7x8yBbNhmb4KsNdrjNmPgqkeYHWDScwIZWLIodaiu5zqJwhm32LYzGNJWi6YUCD90Vae17grqK8zgU3I9Ixz5bAp9_-8SFi-VsiO1jWlvEwgF6zS75IFUu3UAmL-MqbcG64Wan/s835/380F6B1C-CCCC-4A59-B82C-9805CD3D76A0.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="620" data-original-width="835" height="475" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKjMjgly7x8yBbNhmb4KsNdrjNmPgqkeYHWDScwIZWLIodaiu5zqJwhm32LYzGNJWi6YUCD90Vae17grqK8zgU3I9Ixz5bAp9_-8SFi-VsiO1jWlvEwgF6zS75IFUu3UAmL-MqbcG64Wan/w640-h475/380F6B1C-CCCC-4A59-B82C-9805CD3D76A0.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Little cabin, with a "For Sale" sign in front.</span></div><p>I put the cabin on the market. I had spoken to two Realtors who assured me I could not get more than $285,000. for my cabin which was way less than I believed possible. I finally found a realtor who believed even more than I did. </p><p>I fluffed and repaired and replaced the front storm door and packed and cleaned and did all kinds of minor things that all added up to a major improvement.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwU-xXYA2vCk6c_jy32jKEOtEIhEm6HrEIsEJCtC9T14rf9c0cZYQMkh8kPAm5ko3BUDculQ5vatj1z-Tfbxw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Neighbor Bev and I replaced the storm door. I was pretty proud of us!</span></p><p>My fabulous realtor thought I could get $20,000 more than even I thought. I hesitated. Should we be so bold? Of course we should. Buyers always offer low, we might need to drop the price. If I started low, there would be no wiggle room. I've never heard of countering with a higher price. Certainly not where I live. </p><p>Click <a href="https://www.zillow.com/homes/147-Bremer-Lane,-Howard-CO-_rb/2077536121_zpid/" target="_blank">here</a> to see my listing!</p><p><br /></p><p>I figured a sale would take a few months. The cabin was on the market almost one solid year when we bought it. Houses are moving faster now rurally, but still. The cabin has quirks in addition to its fabulous view. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnGUHx0M4KnlP2ilcJycPfP4pDE1gaV9OCT6y5StCDjffW-4Z08czK-FyARLOAga-rl3aBR51d9SNtEljx_MkAP-5khLMNADmXQ3moMNXO50hFnQyPmkUFJkaq5YtvHLhdGjp0MoeJig4n/s640/IMG_1239.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnGUHx0M4KnlP2ilcJycPfP4pDE1gaV9OCT6y5StCDjffW-4Z08czK-FyARLOAga-rl3aBR51d9SNtEljx_MkAP-5khLMNADmXQ3moMNXO50hFnQyPmkUFJkaq5YtvHLhdGjp0MoeJig4n/w640-h480/IMG_1239.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">All houses should have basements. </div><div style="text-align: center;">This is the most organized mine has ever been. I'll miss it.</div></span><p>No worries. </p><p>Four days later, after 4 showings, the cabin was under contract for $2000 less than asking. </p><p>YIKES! My plan? I did not and still do not have one. I figured I would cross that bridge when I got to it. I wasn't expecting that bridge to appear in less than a week. Closing date is November 23, three days before Thanksgiving. I will be "Homeless for the Holidays". I'm pretty sure that is a yet-to-be-produced Hallmark movie. </p><p>Sweet friend has assured me I am welcome at his house. That is my immediate plan. I will sell most of the cabin furniture as none of it is precious. The grandmother's table and buffet will go to storage along with the the flotsam and jetsam of life that I do not want to part with. The drafting table will need to find a place at friend's house along with the sewing and beading and painting and drawing supplies. Honestly, I have an art supply store packed in boxes already. </p><p>I'm in a bit of a panic about losing my amazing Twin Sisters view but I remind myself that the cabin was never meant to be a full time place. It has served its purpose. It's time for a new chapter. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsxgIC5HHEQn099bdp7XGhXNg_MChw96nYtl6IhqrC2-7BlYN_YHZyAr2Fckn_M9ConYlfUjBmWEw6dlKdRlgQS3SAdY2U-1lqtGpfQLYRuCKqnxBFGrygckSCpqaweEC6iUrFHJORNvEA/s640/IMG_0014.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsxgIC5HHEQn099bdp7XGhXNg_MChw96nYtl6IhqrC2-7BlYN_YHZyAr2Fckn_M9ConYlfUjBmWEw6dlKdRlgQS3SAdY2U-1lqtGpfQLYRuCKqnxBFGrygckSCpqaweEC6iUrFHJORNvEA/w640-h480/IMG_0014.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">What was I thinking? I sold this view?? </div></span><p>A new house will be in my future. It might not be right away but it will happen. I don't want to just settle for anything. I promised myself once I moved out of suburbia there would be no more cookie cutter houses in my life. I'd love a little Spanish style adobe house, or a bungalow with cottage gardens or even a beach house. Well, maybe on that beach house. There's so much upkeep with the salt air. In my old age there will be a high rise, once there are no large dogs to contend with. </p><p> But until then, if you know of a great city to move to, let me know. I need a job and a house. Colorado is fabulous but I cannot afford to live here.</p><p>Of course, there are hurdles to jump before November 23. Inspections for the house, the well and the septic. I'm not worried about passing any of them but I know there can always be glitches. Cross your fingers nothing major. I'm ready for a new start. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicCJfsBiw96P80gmn4JyJ90ij9rwX28j68iKp8AG-cyD5vm_iwB5NhkJdOUKoTVGCkBX6tTy32w-ojiJRl_nCiaWFMW9Fe1lt1lIjeUl_JrJA1pSISnxmepAllFvEsnrwPBATLowf6lIV3/s640/631E8931-DBCE-4106-89EB-AEA0E10AFF16.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicCJfsBiw96P80gmn4JyJ90ij9rwX28j68iKp8AG-cyD5vm_iwB5NhkJdOUKoTVGCkBX6tTy32w-ojiJRl_nCiaWFMW9Fe1lt1lIjeUl_JrJA1pSISnxmepAllFvEsnrwPBATLowf6lIV3/w640-h640/631E8931-DBCE-4106-89EB-AEA0E10AFF16.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">The septic has been found and is ready for its inspection.</div></span><p><br /></p><p>EDITED TO ADD:</p><p>Of course, these buyers backed out. Something they didn't like on the inspection. I'm still waiting to see the report. As the sign says, shit happens. </p>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-35184829676443447292020-09-22T04:30:00.009-05:002020-09-22T04:30:06.880-05:00Two Fabulous Asheville Experiences<p> <span style="color: #ff00fe; font-size: large;">Two Fabulous Asheville Experiences, Nos. 77 and 97 Embellished</span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>No. 77: Continuing Education: Take a class. I did! Online for the first time and I loved it.</p><p>No. 97: Go to a Historical House or Two. I think the Biltmore Estate qualifies.</p><p><br /></p><p>First for No. 77, Libby and I signed up for a "Painting with Scissors" class online for Saturday afternoon. A one hour class that followed<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henri_Matisse" target="_blank"> Henri Matisse's</a> method for cutting and pasting and creating. He did marvelous collages with painted papers. <a href="https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/henri-matisse-online-painting-with-scissors-tickets-104482497964" target="_blank">Here's the link</a> for the class if you are interested.</p><p>We had our computers out, papers on the table and followed instructions. At the end I thought it most interesting to see our different approaches to the same class. I was so inspired and could imagine the hills around Asheville being rendered in painted paper. Gouache paints were ordered so I could paint my own papers and I've signed up for Skillshare so I can take some Gouache painting classes. I had never done an online class before but now I'm hooked. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgZHS-2g4PzTu5mq379PV1FdBAlbakm94dIgmDIGIroad-3YEZMNJ5RfeoeakscHq9FtXqlaTlA4SPMX6tnHI5o3OhJltKL10iiZi9mB23-YZR_g1QPXR1jiOY1APqCzXe2C7NKVXurBK/s2048/IMG_5765.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdgZHS-2g4PzTu5mq379PV1FdBAlbakm94dIgmDIGIroad-3YEZMNJ5RfeoeakscHq9FtXqlaTlA4SPMX6tnHI5o3OhJltKL10iiZi9mB23-YZR_g1QPXR1jiOY1APqCzXe2C7NKVXurBK/w480-h640/IMG_5765.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">iPad signed in to the class and I am </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">totally engrossed.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrUAY1ucq9ty9Tc2b9ogkHCsIWJx1wCOAKw2L5Sw3dO6hj9PcBBTY2AUdIs5JOs_sbxMMqbGwDiGqVg66Dg0XN8prpuxtQ5gMPNCQ0V5AuOhK9i4A7M80xBwCnBktrEDpNoB8govUtEpxh/s2048/IMG_1077.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrUAY1ucq9ty9Tc2b9ogkHCsIWJx1wCOAKw2L5Sw3dO6hj9PcBBTY2AUdIs5JOs_sbxMMqbGwDiGqVg66Dg0XN8prpuxtQ5gMPNCQ0V5AuOhK9i4A7M80xBwCnBktrEDpNoB8govUtEpxh/w480-h640/IMG_1077.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Part of the process involved copying the inspiration for Matisse's works.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9a7aZA5ehiJYiXWFRrnaI1jL8rh-DaOV_i3vGbDCuZT06wJJwSQJ4dgo0oEXcJ7DT_vhp7mpqR-dg_oW4hPegFnkY-nxArsVRn5jzRqs3hf1QygaNf12mPycux0flIq2E5_t_gRuU2v8e/s2048/IMG_1083.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9a7aZA5ehiJYiXWFRrnaI1jL8rh-DaOV_i3vGbDCuZT06wJJwSQJ4dgo0oEXcJ7DT_vhp7mpqR-dg_oW4hPegFnkY-nxArsVRn5jzRqs3hf1QygaNf12mPycux0flIq2E5_t_gRuU2v8e/w640-h480/IMG_1083.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My aerial artist came out Blue!</div></span><span style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeR0_5qRt3_CxFcb0YAAu3GOAf58q3-6dM8EnyEgdwnz4Jy58vH48RhcG3TJL6X7-QfZvZsW5ekbeFZC0H35D-MI8VFmLFhf-DFvJnSiNeDWkMI2_KvN5fqF0UHtueCkvQ7ZSnQ-g97bU5/s2048/IMG_1085.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeR0_5qRt3_CxFcb0YAAu3GOAf58q3-6dM8EnyEgdwnz4Jy58vH48RhcG3TJL6X7-QfZvZsW5ekbeFZC0H35D-MI8VFmLFhf-DFvJnSiNeDWkMI2_KvN5fqF0UHtueCkvQ7ZSnQ-g97bU5/w480-h640/IMG_1085.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">In the end, the circus performers became Basketball players.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Poor Libby. We made a mess on the floor.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOA620ojBkwQNnHLrY9JLe99CPxHdmGfUpL7OH26lVINN8B5t0Zegxk6_n3qOBUjs73X_InflBmhYiTw4qfVKrjojEMxxfjrqIjvHqrA2VDQCaUGGfrMbgfp1MA-eE56GlIMF9CkT2dvow/s2048/IMG_1082.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOA620ojBkwQNnHLrY9JLe99CPxHdmGfUpL7OH26lVINN8B5t0Zegxk6_n3qOBUjs73X_InflBmhYiTw4qfVKrjojEMxxfjrqIjvHqrA2VDQCaUGGfrMbgfp1MA-eE56GlIMF9CkT2dvow/w480-h640/IMG_1082.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Sometimes the creative process requires a lot of space... and a broom.</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was so interesting to see how we each interpreted the same instructions. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8EHO2p02kduGG8ZQ9_03eQrFWcfMUCsc3lUvjK45USS5zvgn-znmfqvG0_vPOMw7Uaj7fwwXVqoyoVTRuZVrSHT81BzEiXSaI0nEIgP73Vyy45OcGacpNKR3zQqIPgP-c9vptzi2B1kuk/s2048/IMG_1084.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8EHO2p02kduGG8ZQ9_03eQrFWcfMUCsc3lUvjK45USS5zvgn-znmfqvG0_vPOMw7Uaj7fwwXVqoyoVTRuZVrSHT81BzEiXSaI0nEIgP73Vyy45OcGacpNKR3zQqIPgP-c9vptzi2B1kuk/w480-h640/IMG_1084.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">My flora and fauna became an aquarium....</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUyatg_farAgftOHbhWeFsXYFjHiNbCB9MN_kxjIgWCCcTUPWeeetyCuAj1bwDdJ5bOz-787bZzZlsed7p2JUCu-9MlpoaxiLY_tA6K6GQS4yhCZSOxuX-4xzZ5_XIzZ9fzpEmImCfLWvN/s2048/IMG_1086.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUyatg_farAgftOHbhWeFsXYFjHiNbCB9MN_kxjIgWCCcTUPWeeetyCuAj1bwDdJ5bOz-787bZzZlsed7p2JUCu-9MlpoaxiLY_tA6K6GQS4yhCZSOxuX-4xzZ5_XIzZ9fzpEmImCfLWvN/w480-h640/IMG_1086.jpeg" width="480" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">While Libby's flora became FLOWERS!</span></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One of the mountain pics I took became the inspiration for a parting collage gift.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSNi2a-ntJiBzP7Grl505wGACPqiUgx2Tp-CwU3Y2Ib4IVptnv5tSa8eaRy0LcMz1o8rUGdSrq-_FyGErP2qm5L3kym6sGGSEhApjYR2lRHfSXOoPgSqYLMTu5Oa_xF7IJdxEM5YWopYm/s2048/IMG_1096.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheSNi2a-ntJiBzP7Grl505wGACPqiUgx2Tp-CwU3Y2Ib4IVptnv5tSa8eaRy0LcMz1o8rUGdSrq-_FyGErP2qm5L3kym6sGGSEhApjYR2lRHfSXOoPgSqYLMTu5Oa_xF7IJdxEM5YWopYm/w640-h480/IMG_1096.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;">Reality....</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYqJJ0DIhPBFqNQLvZKYEOsevvXnzpSyApHsPWl00644Mc7qjPN4_q2KlQURQm0yR4O7nx-1GCqfYnrMwqJQfyBppd411NoedGqMWMEU_FYhBQ-6XHhBqAiyGzmvUf8gOCZV45KdkemDlX/s2048/IMG_1111+2.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYqJJ0DIhPBFqNQLvZKYEOsevvXnzpSyApHsPWl00644Mc7qjPN4_q2KlQURQm0yR4O7nx-1GCqfYnrMwqJQfyBppd411NoedGqMWMEU_FYhBQ-6XHhBqAiyGzmvUf8gOCZV45KdkemDlX/w480-h640/IMG_1111+2.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">...</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394;">Versus "artistic license"</span></div></div><p>I think this will be my new art project, once I tidy up a few other aspects of my life. </p><div><br /></div><p>Then on Monday, for No. 97, I spent a half day at the <a href="https://www.biltmore.com">Biltmore Estate</a> which is a HUGE property amazingly tucked right inside Asheville. (At least that's how it seemed to me although I'm not 100% sure of my geography. )</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0ccVRpgtlNu-x53vk-69apqRVM40EjQkbkw83A8YxiVZCBd-UNyqLT8tp2tRpFUtPLW58fwAby-Zmg1Nv6l5BCwyfqSjQNzKiIXXOrJ8p3ckMEeRRh4nSlFU9q6REYOddVUdSvfNmzxe/s2048/IMG_1113.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE0ccVRpgtlNu-x53vk-69apqRVM40EjQkbkw83A8YxiVZCBd-UNyqLT8tp2tRpFUtPLW58fwAby-Zmg1Nv6l5BCwyfqSjQNzKiIXXOrJ8p3ckMEeRRh4nSlFU9q6REYOddVUdSvfNmzxe/w640-h480/IMG_1113.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Just a tiny little country home....</span></div><p>The property is fabulous. The landscape was done by <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frederick_Law_Olmsted" target="_blank">Frederick Law Olmstead</a> and <a href="https://www.biltmore.com/blog/olmsteds-deliberate-approach/" target="_blank">while the approach to the main house is only 3 miles</a> it takes about 20 minutes to make the drive. He purposely limited views and made you wind through the scenery to build your anticipation of this amazing house. And house is such a insufficient word. Mansion? That's closer. Estate. That's it.</p><p>It was a drizzle-y day, overcast with intermittent rains when I went. Never the less, the grounds were stellar. After a quick walk from the parking lot, a double stairway appears that gives you the grand view of the house along with a grand approach. Timed tickets were required and of course I was running behind. (Google maps sent me into a lovely neighborhood and a kind gentleman gave me instructions on how to actually get to the Biltmore...says he redirects people almost daily. No matter. The drive through the neighborhood was worth it.) </p><p>Anyway, the house. A brief history and if you want to learn more, click <a href="https://www.biltmore.com/our-story/" target="_blank">here.</a> Started in 1889, the house was built by George Washington Vanderbilt III as his "country home". A 250 room country home with indoor pool, gym, library, and 35 bedrooms. An entire town of craftsmen were hired to create the gorgeous woodwork and exquisite details throughout the house. It took 6 years to complete and hosted its first guests on Christmas Eve 1895. George was a bachelor when he built the house but eventually married and raised his only daughter there. The largest house built in the United States is now run by heirs of George Vanderbilt III and run quite well. There are restaurants, a hotel, many gift shops and a winery all bringing in money to support the preservation of this grand home.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1SFC7f38trn3yLOVrNwhCAOxdIRk0S965mq0kQOAD8aYISWicjiuc1O9JdxjCg4Wik55Jzu-_xGzkv17fXkIqjstYVNbT6TucNAbhQ2OpsxjrXMCt3BCQVYu-9opgn7u1WbWFQm1nyfQ4/s2048/IMG_1127.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1SFC7f38trn3yLOVrNwhCAOxdIRk0S965mq0kQOAD8aYISWicjiuc1O9JdxjCg4Wik55Jzu-_xGzkv17fXkIqjstYVNbT6TucNAbhQ2OpsxjrXMCt3BCQVYu-9opgn7u1WbWFQm1nyfQ4/w480-h640/IMG_1127.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">This (empty) pool. Sigh. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Wooden rails and steps. </span></div><br /><p>And bless the pandemic. Visitors were strictly limited in each room so as I walked through the house there were never more than 6-8 people in one space. We could linger as long as we wanted and it was delightful to be able to admire the rooms without having to look over someone's shoulder. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRSGav18BP4d7zufaI8F9b19qmUawQNSfjKTvNyxmKukTjJMRABatpZz4ShOvWoA6W8YDjyQN3ryv9dOH83CHAm-n9gNCaapHl2CbcqLU3vFN1N-xejo1V8VE1cEXmQtBsbSfrqTfQz0P/s2048/IMG_1119.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRSGav18BP4d7zufaI8F9b19qmUawQNSfjKTvNyxmKukTjJMRABatpZz4ShOvWoA6W8YDjyQN3ryv9dOH83CHAm-n9gNCaapHl2CbcqLU3vFN1N-xejo1V8VE1cEXmQtBsbSfrqTfQz0P/w640-h480/IMG_1119.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394;">The oak sitting room </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394;">(As opposed to the gazillion other sitting rooms) </span></div><p></p><p>My favorite part of viewing old houses is seeing the servant's areas. Unfortunately, the servant bedrooms were blocked off because of too tight quarters but it always amazes me to see the huge kitchens, laundries, and back stairways that kept life as they (the Vanderbilts) knew it going along smoothly.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOLcWKTqg7mhnanXlG0i3Hjkt3H8QvlT6Rh8GwedFhMjBm3OTTEVDfJBBbi2IxSdMc8MjB88ZuKaYMRjjy4jeuBE_T84FxfddBzLtZsVxkEEXdGdZlMKywgeNQcZt3bDyEG-EBTT1lx0or/s2048/IMG_1129+2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOLcWKTqg7mhnanXlG0i3Hjkt3H8QvlT6Rh8GwedFhMjBm3OTTEVDfJBBbi2IxSdMc8MjB88ZuKaYMRjjy4jeuBE_T84FxfddBzLtZsVxkEEXdGdZlMKywgeNQcZt3bDyEG-EBTT1lx0or/w640-h640/IMG_1129+2.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Someone in the kitchen had to polish all that copper...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span>The <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triumphal_Arch_(woodcut)" target="_blank"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(68, 68, 68); color: #444444; font-size: 16px;">Albrecht Dürer</span> woodblock prints</a> over</span> the fireplace were my favorites. One hundred ninety two separate printed blocks.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_i2JFQKE7o81D7bLy6R-0soqGnbIJrOOOXL9JON9C0B_fnGMHqaCPJTKlVHUJbVwxgkoN-CKaa6BYngJ_h73xzEVtmWdKAmmhHpsTIdR7DzoXl77SiMhLnwBD5WqV-Apij0sO1Qo8FrSc/s640/IMG_2632.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_i2JFQKE7o81D7bLy6R-0soqGnbIJrOOOXL9JON9C0B_fnGMHqaCPJTKlVHUJbVwxgkoN-CKaa6BYngJ_h73xzEVtmWdKAmmhHpsTIdR7DzoXl77SiMhLnwBD5WqV-Apij0sO1Qo8FrSc/s640/IMG_2632.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs1FgR9ShCXUFHr_Dc6FyDGg2717ZrOWaiF-iyGCFZIiPaAHF_8aN2P3NzZShJik5NnGGEIAGXzmOAJSlVVX8Wp6rzloTzx_7ObWhmxxHoxw2uIXGKC3l9zoge2OA_vPSxG8HNJQQ3kOCs/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="554" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs1FgR9ShCXUFHr_Dc6FyDGg2717ZrOWaiF-iyGCFZIiPaAHF_8aN2P3NzZShJik5NnGGEIAGXzmOAJSlVVX8Wp6rzloTzx_7ObWhmxxHoxw2uIXGKC3l9zoge2OA_vPSxG8HNJQQ3kOCs/" width="277" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">The Triumphal Arch of Maximillian by Albrecht Dürer</span></div><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;">After an hour or so in the house I wandered out to the gardens. Since it was sprinkling, I headed straight to the conservatory. Add "conservatory" to my goals list. O.M.G. That place was amazing. And the orchids!! Plants and flowers and orchids, oh my! </p></blockquote><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfBnZVSSMUNcLv9Iym1VrQ90_G8mU8Sa_Xxu99OFVueqClsI_6P0ttjyIHdl9QHUoMb1F1ZdMJQ1gSLZiF4GivWHPREuX0saI0RI4yd5Wa6y3MB1DXo-G5hiiZefDKjf56MsRQX9hOKrch/s2048/IMG_1135.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfBnZVSSMUNcLv9Iym1VrQ90_G8mU8Sa_Xxu99OFVueqClsI_6P0ttjyIHdl9QHUoMb1F1ZdMJQ1gSLZiF4GivWHPREuX0saI0RI4yd5Wa6y3MB1DXo-G5hiiZefDKjf56MsRQX9hOKrch/w480-h640/IMG_1135.jpeg" width="480" /></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Look at this begonia...</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDvLBH4PCLquvnJzuRC3c0fMXuj3o0n02W1AfepWv6yCdFXzUtjpG5m-HdB5Omy4EwhfRNcPfQymw_nEuBlbYkVzeNM4ep-yOOOA0daThenJDvZ4JytN4qZe4p39tmJejKiiGdsbb5PgoQ/s2048/IMG_1138.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDvLBH4PCLquvnJzuRC3c0fMXuj3o0n02W1AfepWv6yCdFXzUtjpG5m-HdB5Omy4EwhfRNcPfQymw_nEuBlbYkVzeNM4ep-yOOOA0daThenJDvZ4JytN4qZe4p39tmJejKiiGdsbb5PgoQ/w480-h640/IMG_1138.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">...and these orchids!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlSEW-X8c5-pbWsc5jUIZCXT3zbkqPmM8S7t80EWym9JeGo16fymPojFiOBDG8MkykK_q1t8ZeUwLV9gsGB2CH8Rtd-aJPdf6Glq81kWI4DxycgPlEXd2YXSRroAZsaZFz-YsTaktnYpHY/w480-h640/image.png" width="480" /></div><span style="color: #0b5394;">From inside the conservatory.</span></div></div><p>It was all amazing. A step back in time. If you go to Asheville, the Biltmore Estate is a must see. </p><p>The surprising part? My flight was in the afternoon and I left about 30 minutes to exit the property from the parking lot. After all, that's how long it took me to get from the main road to the house. Ha! That Olmstead. It took me all of 10 minutes to leave. </p><p>And there's the complete Asheville report from me. </p><p>Every one stay safe, wash your hands, wear your masks and VOTE!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-45119962223044868322020-09-15T04:00:00.002-05:002020-09-15T04:00:01.001-05:00Another New State, No. 65<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">No. 65: Travel to States I've Never Been to Before</span><br />
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<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_Carolina">North Carolina<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">.</span></a><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">O, this is a state I have really been wanting to do for a while. That desire intensified when my friend, Libby, moved there 18 months ago. But. But. But. Airline tickets weren't cheap and it was a long flight requiring connections and THEN we had a pandemic. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Growing up in Texas of course we get a taste of "The South". But Texas isn't really the old South in many ways- it's its own entity. We have, unfortunately, our share of Confederate flags and statues and an abundance of high schools named Robert E Lee, but in many ways it doesn't seem like the South to me. Like a foot in the South and a foot in the West. but not one or the other. </span><div><br /></div><div>I blame my subscription to <a href="https://gardenandgun.com" target="_blank">Garden and Gun</a> magazine. It makes that part of the country seem so inviting. <br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">I have been to <a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2017/07/live-that-life.html">Virginia</a> (definitely considered the South) and <a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2016/05/thursday-february-4-2016-no.html">Mississippi</a> (also VERY definitely the South) so I've had my intro to Southern ways (the good and the bad) but this trip was to Asheville, North Carolina. A random check online and I discovered air tickets had dropped to under $300. I'm still unemployed, and while looking for work online, I have found that I have very few job options. Somehow no degree, the inability to type faster than 40 WPM, and few obvious qualifications makes me a hard sell on line. So why not travel??</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">I have flown quite a bit this summer and have felt relatively comfortable doing so even with this pandemic. Most of my flights have been on Southwest and they have been very good about leaving the middle seats open. Pretty much I've been able to find an empty row on every flight. This trip was on United and I did get a notice that the flight was over 70% full. Yes, that made me a little nervous but I kept checking the seat map and moving my seat further and further back so that I would have an empty row. Arriving at the Denver airport, I discovered long lines, wayyy too many people for my comfort and no empty rows to move to. Thankfully I was given the option to upgrade at check in which I did immediately. I'm a big believer in enjoying the journey and my choice was in the back with zillions of people or up front with one other person. I took my chances and was delighted with my seat mate who had been camping in Wyoming for the last week with 6 other people. Figured she was most likely "Covid-free" and we had a great chat on the flight. O, we also drank our upgrade fee in Gin and Tonics and Bloody Marys. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Libby picked me up at the Asheville airport on Friday evening after traveling most of the day. Whenever I mentioned going to Asheville, everyone said "you must go to <a href="https://tupelohoneycafe.com/location/downtown-asheville/menus/#main-menu">Tupelo Honey</a> for dinner". So we did. Grits. Fried Chicken. A flight of desserts (Peanut butter mousse, banana pudding and brown butter pecan pie- doesn't get any more Southern than that.)</span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEVJUZ2ii1QKT1OkfKj1wsUWeLg1znT4xxyKiDJArOeKBDAS4HZZ04ZMxBjB25zaoghUQA_exgf3PxrcZ4uy7GI4z7vBvdsgzaxBV6ySsPerl5cwhJbW_MusqbXvLPapSLDIJAPadA90KH/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEVJUZ2ii1QKT1OkfKj1wsUWeLg1znT4xxyKiDJArOeKBDAS4HZZ04ZMxBjB25zaoghUQA_exgf3PxrcZ4uy7GI4z7vBvdsgzaxBV6ySsPerl5cwhJbW_MusqbXvLPapSLDIJAPadA90KH/w480-h640/61973886207__3CD61AA0-678E-478F-92BA-5D487DDB2127.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Well, if you insist!</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuFUymwwIDI02Evq2NaMrRYHA-86fBd55v7OxfG5dye9Ct2wafzckMHnVNiuXb1s3w0V3MeaD1jsBOkMvJJaQbRHOx9OODYIFNfpPJRy9AbzLajG2UNz2s8rOc3J5l5gNeNlSum7rWa3JR/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuFUymwwIDI02Evq2NaMrRYHA-86fBd55v7OxfG5dye9Ct2wafzckMHnVNiuXb1s3w0V3MeaD1jsBOkMvJJaQbRHOx9OODYIFNfpPJRy9AbzLajG2UNz2s8rOc3J5l5gNeNlSum7rWa3JR/w480-h640/IMG_1054.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">My faithful tour guide and friend, Libby</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaQ9hbLxj1W60YB9-w4Exiaf9LxfNS7-Cjr0n4KS5VXlxhrMyuwlHaB51HpQUITdC5E41bKz_Oa5i1QLD4FxcHazHj8idF4rX7zc-uEkKyuK8pAj_P1C9pIgmpE0BMM4T0oTaO3m0S5JbF/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaQ9hbLxj1W60YB9-w4Exiaf9LxfNS7-Cjr0n4KS5VXlxhrMyuwlHaB51HpQUITdC5E41bKz_Oa5i1QLD4FxcHazHj8idF4rX7zc-uEkKyuK8pAj_P1C9pIgmpE0BMM4T0oTaO3m0S5JbF/w480-h640/IMG_5748.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Cheers!</span></div><br /></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Afterwards we wandered the downtown area where we saw a shrouded Confederate monument and <a href="https://blacklivesmatter.com/">Black Lives Matter </a>painted on the street. The old South is having to confront their past, finally. We also drove through the arts district and were disappointed that the <a href="https://www.romanticasheville.com/drumming_circle.htm">Friday night drum circle </a>did not happen.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipaXeTQuIqAp1A14ha85UmDZXXeY5FcThqHrA4gbXLD_IMfwn_UwAkMDhHNJFcgUuanjVMQDH5Il1BgYXb56XrmLiv-ztE8T7n_DAOPg1NchzbGdph-lVa9AvJPvlv3zp9gTEavns4xZpP/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipaXeTQuIqAp1A14ha85UmDZXXeY5FcThqHrA4gbXLD_IMfwn_UwAkMDhHNJFcgUuanjVMQDH5Il1BgYXb56XrmLiv-ztE8T7n_DAOPg1NchzbGdph-lVa9AvJPvlv3zp9gTEavns4xZpP/w480-h640/IMG_1057.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">I'm assuming that's a Confederate statue, shrouded in black plastic and protected with a plywood base.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJFfnnqmW-_ho_yWvSuVVEDluWW3SBzVbpNcqCRdE0SpMuN647Qcturdi7iUZ81vKnDjOnRG7F02tpzvm3MkaSjLTW6ZF17kjF0FPP7CE6D2vw6wevEZC1SIno0iBEacRQBprJZQ7oGzZW/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJFfnnqmW-_ho_yWvSuVVEDluWW3SBzVbpNcqCRdE0SpMuN647Qcturdi7iUZ81vKnDjOnRG7F02tpzvm3MkaSjLTW6ZF17kjF0FPP7CE6D2vw6wevEZC1SIno0iBEacRQBprJZQ7oGzZW/w640-h480/IMG_1068.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #0b5394;">Black Lives Matter paintings all around the roundabout.</span></div><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Saturday we had biscuits for breakfast from<a href="http://www.biscuitheads.com/"> Biscuitheads.</a> Libby scored a free t-shirt with breakfast... so I consider that a good morning!</span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHfEGKuMI4COZL-S4yDyWWz1K9cTWFP2slLxeRH6ro491Mh8gOf6OjLB2DIyEwDXaV_5otTE8B3zK6bHwtedjt7QJeFxrqtT_IFk6CqDNTc92bm5Tll_qCxg8K57Ahi3ggMPfrLKsriaE3/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHfEGKuMI4COZL-S4yDyWWz1K9cTWFP2slLxeRH6ro491Mh8gOf6OjLB2DIyEwDXaV_5otTE8B3zK6bHwtedjt7QJeFxrqtT_IFk6CqDNTc92bm5Tll_qCxg8K57Ahi3ggMPfrLKsriaE3/w480-h640/IMG_5785.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">A free Tee! She asked to buy one but they only had them for employees, so they gave her one.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">I'll let you figure out what it says.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"> And then we went back to her place to do an online class in cutting and pasting. (I'll post on that soon.) </span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizPm09sSK5qW_iX1jbT6_yx3wCHp3bupz0IsHUoyZjRBjjn0Aec1mpA5mzha_ER4k6NiVntNRSlgOUfT8DFfo2lBi4BFPVgjGh0by69L_Dgq9XpJOLexLM7_dDbDsbbGMRExNsmUxPhUbN/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizPm09sSK5qW_iX1jbT6_yx3wCHp3bupz0IsHUoyZjRBjjn0Aec1mpA5mzha_ER4k6NiVntNRSlgOUfT8DFfo2lBi4BFPVgjGh0by69L_Dgq9XpJOLexLM7_dDbDsbbGMRExNsmUxPhUbN/w480-h640/IMG_1077.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><div style="text-align: center;">First time I've done an online class like this and it was sooo inspiring. </div></span><br /></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Afterwards we drove to <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/nfsnc/recarea/?recid=48156">Sliding Rock</a>- another highly recommended destination. In the forest, surrounded by trees are some perfect flat rocks in the river made for sliding down. I was super excited about this adventure. Sadly, the river was too high from all of the rain they have had so we did not get to slide or even play in the water. After being in dry dry Colorado it was still lovely to experience all the green of a state that gets summer rains.</span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBod4pEkB7xcGTDl3lRcYGOxfp1prGoxQwFJfg8vihmMFdqdkdAdOUdXSJzuN-ISi5WDvHvi7Dn9ABysLnLnEL0ypeQtNfzK7pm5nG_e3DyeGoN_aWXE8iEIDirzGjTPpYDjcc35TKAjq4/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBod4pEkB7xcGTDl3lRcYGOxfp1prGoxQwFJfg8vihmMFdqdkdAdOUdXSJzuN-ISi5WDvHvi7Dn9ABysLnLnEL0ypeQtNfzK7pm5nG_e3DyeGoN_aWXE8iEIDirzGjTPpYDjcc35TKAjq4/w480-h640/IMG_1102.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Sliding Rock which actually looked more like Gushing Waters Rock</span></div><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Our day ended driving around looking at houses as Libby would like to get out of her darling apartment at some point and really settle in. It was a great way to get the feel of the city and there were so many fun cottages. Also, some of those streets were really narrow so I was grateful I wasn't the one driving.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Sunday was a hiking day and we went to Pisgah Forest (which I want to call Pig-sa because that sounds like more fun) to hike to a <a href="https://www.alltrails.com/trail/us/north-carolina/catawba-falls-trail">water fall.</a> It was another overcast day and the hike was pleasant although truthfully I would have been happier with less people on the trail. I'm delighted people are outdoors during the pandemic, I just don't want them all outdoors at the same time that I am. Ha! O well, the waterfall was gorgeous and it was so nice to be outside. </span></div><div><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVeG7lKPh5RGghGpf0GIhgstyW7upTJa4nLsRbfz5zzU2v8mteze2JYJvKfGB0DPR96_R8z6vODdr97NHOs0BT98orcC8aFcHBsd4IpCRNVgYhTCBhtIuKoBklnQnAcavKBWtgOa2ge5H3/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVeG7lKPh5RGghGpf0GIhgstyW7upTJa4nLsRbfz5zzU2v8mteze2JYJvKfGB0DPR96_R8z6vODdr97NHOs0BT98orcC8aFcHBsd4IpCRNVgYhTCBhtIuKoBklnQnAcavKBWtgOa2ge5H3/w640-h480/IMG_5814.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Only a 3 mile hike so we were smiling at the outset and on the return.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">The sign says "Catawba Falls"</span></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixyMWZx0Pq-AmhpPvcEFOWofaNZqqqmSAEL-lLlytfH0O-3vJpaQYKvVYrZpsXo5-4G80fTAroU0WPRzIdXQSB6S4oHaxUYhuMZFXLkHHYcGeuYpUBQk30Uep1uWGnKC6y9s-DQn6XDLm7/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixyMWZx0Pq-AmhpPvcEFOWofaNZqqqmSAEL-lLlytfH0O-3vJpaQYKvVYrZpsXo5-4G80fTAroU0WPRzIdXQSB6S4oHaxUYhuMZFXLkHHYcGeuYpUBQk30Uep1uWGnKC6y9s-DQn6XDLm7/w640-h480/IMG_5837.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">We made it!</span></div><br /><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">And Monday- Monday is another post. I went to the <a href="https://www.biltmore.com/things-to-do/events/fall-at-biltmore/?gclid=Cj0KCQjwv7L6BRDxARIsAGj-34pSdWzJh3zqj6GO50WuRSrX7W6dnFhcVJ9n6nuD6Nizt5G2XQp9e3waAv3yEALw_wcB">Biltmore</a> and o! it was beautiful. I'll tell you all about it next week.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Anyway, I'm putting North Carolina in the books.</span><br />
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<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-30285799852133615812020-09-01T05:00:00.000-05:002020-09-01T10:27:30.518-05:00No. 4: Performance at Red Rocks<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">No.4: Performance at Red Rocks</span><br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Imagine. In spite of the pandemic, I managed to make it to Red Rocks Amphitheatre for a performance.<br />
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For those not in Colorado, maybe Red Rocks needs an introduction. It is a natural open air amphitheater outside of Denver. An amazing setting tucked amongst some enormous red rocks (hence the name) with naturally occurring perfect acoustics. Many artists consider it their favorite place to perform. If you want to know more, click<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Rocks_Amphitheatre"> here.</a> The theater seats almost 10,000 people.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXYxZNEg9cb9SdLDvBkDpekzJmd6kOVvaE565dU39yc4kc8erieUVsKPVimVEmrk_aoOmRtsaouQell7ORkAPxyTwK25ronHPf2htVGwiqLRLYuWymY9jim9EmZft9ZWfUW83ffBG3eOZ4/s1600/IMG_1031.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXYxZNEg9cb9SdLDvBkDpekzJmd6kOVvaE565dU39yc4kc8erieUVsKPVimVEmrk_aoOmRtsaouQell7ORkAPxyTwK25ronHPf2htVGwiqLRLYuWymY9jim9EmZft9ZWfUW83ffBG3eOZ4/s640/IMG_1031.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">The view from the <span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">top entrance to the theater.</span></span></div>
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The Colorado Symphony has been experimenting with small sections of the symphony playing to a limited number of performers. Tickets were procured for the weekday performance of the brass and percussion sections. Maximum number of tickets sold: 175. Which means we pretty much had the place to ourselves. I counted. Somewhere between 150 and 170 people were there the same night we were. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfS6v3jhDPum1QkAisp4LBNaMKsBkzsbHbzncxM9-EUkIpIblAqaBKoDk67GcKTBrZgpCYDaQy5h-VqH9BxDIWnBhL1Nw1xRoeqgGOIHhnx37NFKJZUk3GPrNJ5biWR4c43SF_TxAo3oef/s1600/IMG_1033.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfS6v3jhDPum1QkAisp4LBNaMKsBkzsbHbzncxM9-EUkIpIblAqaBKoDk67GcKTBrZgpCYDaQy5h-VqH9BxDIWnBhL1Nw1xRoeqgGOIHhnx37NFKJZUk3GPrNJ5biWR4c43SF_TxAo3oef/s640/IMG_1033.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">From the top, looking down on the seating and stage. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Pretty amazing set up.</span></div>
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Of course, we needed refreshments and I had my first White Claw which I suspect pretty much makes me a 20something, doesn't it? Only one concession stand was open and our choices were limited- beer, wine, coolers, soft drinks, pretzels and chips. So much for dinner.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0g-YfrpgTjCjS_f7t_LwS70CEpSLqZAQoPjr4yKu_gwSpVR8rNaRrzssOYmm7bLEYCgihtCLMydqmfohFwRp89Gd3Ac9vb1kxk1ME_3GDz-wShA1CC1eUW_bUxXWJxTTNGClMwvPhvqih/s1600/IMG_1038.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0g-YfrpgTjCjS_f7t_LwS70CEpSLqZAQoPjr4yKu_gwSpVR8rNaRrzssOYmm7bLEYCgihtCLMydqmfohFwRp89Gd3Ac9vb1kxk1ME_3GDz-wShA1CC1eUW_bUxXWJxTTNGClMwvPhvqih/s640/IMG_1038.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">My first foray into the land of hard seltzers. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Turns out it was pretty yummy.</span></div>
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Here was the set up for the symphony sections:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcEVlEfB6RZMAdlHOyW7WL3DJguFnc5YShUOQJT37G38aGlzkGF6IkLJw3GAv2p5DIhi7nLcF4yL1MyBhAkcN6bZz2aR0TrBErvZ4z7BDeJjHI7ujs2H0dDFRT7OGNt2_eeUyxWu0Gsrga/s1600/IMG_1035.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcEVlEfB6RZMAdlHOyW7WL3DJguFnc5YShUOQJT37G38aGlzkGF6IkLJw3GAv2p5DIhi7nLcF4yL1MyBhAkcN6bZz2aR0TrBErvZ4z7BDeJjHI7ujs2H0dDFRT7OGNt2_eeUyxWu0Gsrga/s640/IMG_1035.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">17 performers more or less and one conductor</span></div>
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The music obviously could not be full on classical with such a limited orchestra so there was an assortment. Some classical, some Star Wars, a march, it was a nice combination. And the best part? It was all acoustic, NO amplifiers. (Well, the conductor had his amp so we could hear his voice. The instruments needed no amplification.) </div>
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The conductor, Christopher Dragon (what a GREAT name) made the evening. There is a reason he is so thin. He never stopped moving, dancing, jumping the entire performance. He even played the drums at one point. </div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Goodness, he was having fun.</span></div>
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While I don't feel I got the full experience...parking was convenient and just a few steps from the entrance, no crowds hence no combined anticipation of a large group waiting for something to begin...it was very special. And now, I've been.<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Me and Friend, appropriately masked, at the end of the night. </span></div>
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And just in case the musical aspect of a Red Rocks performance did not qualify, a second trip to Red Rocks that same week cemented my completion of No.4.</div>
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We went to the Drive-In!<a href="https://www.denverfilm.org/programs/fotr-drive-in/"> Film on the Rocks</a>, presented by the Denver Film group, has movies in the parking lot of the amphitheater. Admission is one set price per car and includes two Coke products, popcorn, and two boxes of candy. (Twizzlers and M&Ms!) Every show day except Sunday they also offer the pre-purchase of a ChickFilA sandwich and waffle chips. We saw Clueless. It was perfect except we needed to do a little better planning. Cars are too smart these days. The sound comes through your radio but few cars allow you to turn the car off and leave the radio on. At least not long enough for a two hour movie. Once the radio cut off, the car had to be restarted which meant the lights came on and then the parking lot attendants came over to tell us to turn the lights off. And so went the night. A portable FM radio solved that problem when we went again last night to see Field of Dreams.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNcePqu8P7FTJx1Vm6OUb7VMp1gU645wiqkTHp_ASAv1C8S53VNoIJ982nkC386HdO-jLbEJIqzxe_Mko1LY1DWzTY7sPXB-PPVuoTTHiyqDFsiG_omvk8ulJJcALwCKAhgkpIyk65AVv/s1600/IMG_1049.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNcePqu8P7FTJx1Vm6OUb7VMp1gU645wiqkTHp_ASAv1C8S53VNoIJ982nkC386HdO-jLbEJIqzxe_Mko1LY1DWzTY7sPXB-PPVuoTTHiyqDFsiG_omvk8ulJJcALwCKAhgkpIyk65AVv/s640/IMG_1049.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">While <span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">waiting for the movie to start they have entertainment.</span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">So, No. 4 is done. I followed up with adding to No. 65: Travel to new states and repeating No.77: Continuing Education: Take a class. Technically I completed No. 77 last year with my silver working class but more education is ALWAYS a good thing.</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">Stay tuned.</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">Also, wash your hands, wear your mask and VOTE. (Register, request your mail in ballot, whatever you need to do.)</span></div>
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<br />Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-45173970629872547802020-08-19T04:00:00.000-05:002020-08-19T04:00:02.120-05:00PSA: Public Septic Announcement<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">PSA: Public Septic Announcement</span><br />
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Today's post is a PSA for everyone with <a href="https://www.epa.gov/septic/how-your-septic-system-works">a septic tank </a>and an education for those that do not.<br />
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I wrote last that I was thrilled to finally have a scheduled meeting with Mountain High Septic to get my septic tank cleaned out. It only took a year of waiting. (They assured me that if it was an emergency, they could be out sooner. Fortunately, there was no emergency.)<br />
First, let me say that my excitement about having the septic tank emptied was an emotion that 18 years old me could <i><b>never</b></i> have imagined.<br />
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And why was I so excited? Well, a septic tank holds all the household human waste that comes out of your house. If there's a problem with your septic then that waste ends up in the house or yard. Not good. The only way to keep that little disaster at bay is to have the tank emptied every few years.<br />
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Cabin was purchased 11 years ago. At the time the owner was in hospice, his wife did not know where the tank was located and we bought the cabin anyway. Standard policy is to have the tank emptied when a house sells. Ours wasn't. Soooo..... I had no clue where the tank was although I did have an idea. As <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erma_Bombeck">Erma Bombeck</a> said "the grass is always greener over the septic tank". She was right. And I had never had any issues with the set up. But. Still. It was about 7 or 8 years overdue. So there was excitement mixed with dread. Because what if there was no tank? No system? Something major?<br />
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Also, I've heard enough disaster stories. Behind me the sweet neighbor had her septic tank collapse. She realized the problem once her basement filled up with waste. Another sweet friend, who shall remain nameless, confessed that she didn't know she had a septic tank on a house they had built themselves and lived in for twenty years. She figured it out once she started having problems.<br />
Those are issues I just did not want to have.<br />
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In comes Ace, from Mountain High!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1qIDugMX5puOdFivml2eDVL08prjRHX3BmamL1VYIkTokeR5o5UhfOZPI0GLmLLaOrwLXN6KPUQWigb8D4zWSTof6lpk2nUCe4cRGIOBhIwC763nI2TvNjyCF5b5NNFXq9C6Nw34cvQX/s1600/A0544F3B-4599-411A-AC3F-4243F181BD93.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1qIDugMX5puOdFivml2eDVL08prjRHX3BmamL1VYIkTokeR5o5UhfOZPI0GLmLLaOrwLXN6KPUQWigb8D4zWSTof6lpk2nUCe4cRGIOBhIwC763nI2TvNjyCF5b5NNFXq9C6Nw34cvQX/s640/A0544F3B-4599-411A-AC3F-4243F181BD93.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">You have no idea how happy I was to see this truck.</span></div>
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He brought his shovel and poker and got to work. First he poked around the ground listening for a reverberating hollow sound. That was the tank. Once he located the tank he continued poking into the ground towards the house until he got to the edge. Apparently that's where the clean out is usually located. (Instructions just in case you need to find your tank some day.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fu6UoMry96xNxfmIpoxkvqz6onDKdfT42UhjqZbAWPKSxzlBXUfLhFbpiH02TfFWlB1z09lL1rcCyly2X8wjyPBLPTIFUAWRRl3K7vlSXjT9grf3_zwArg7D6Fjh50d5wzmRBxIeqwFf/s1600/IMG_0991.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1295" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fu6UoMry96xNxfmIpoxkvqz6onDKdfT42UhjqZbAWPKSxzlBXUfLhFbpiH02TfFWlB1z09lL1rcCyly2X8wjyPBLPTIFUAWRRl3K7vlSXjT9grf3_zwArg7D6Fjh50d5wzmRBxIeqwFf/s640/IMG_0991.jpeg" width="518" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Ace at work.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">I do wonder what makes you think "I want to be septic tank cleaner when I grow up."</span></div>
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Thirty minutes of digging later and Voila! the lid to the clean out pipe. The tank and lid were both cement and in good shape. Hallelujah. He says he has seen septic systems consisting of barrels connected by pipes; railroad ties set in a square with pipes leading out; and even just pipes with no actual tank. None of those would pass code anymore but they worked in their day.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipV2U0JWs-SORAOPURMxqU3g91YFJeIhdhRFL6r_k9kcdYxoacJ4RXVJ0szOXn3Tf4s-CLm7lQh6ECq5JBuorXkGkSojZXvK-RzdwiT3MVTKxsgTpCgChKBu0ccxeK1CfydcVoZ8sI5TOm/s1600/IMG_0993.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipV2U0JWs-SORAOPURMxqU3g91YFJeIhdhRFL6r_k9kcdYxoacJ4RXVJ0szOXn3Tf4s-CLm7lQh6ECq5JBuorXkGkSojZXvK-RzdwiT3MVTKxsgTpCgChKBu0ccxeK1CfydcVoZ8sI5TOm/s640/IMG_0993.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Success. A tank and a lid.</span></div>
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Once Ace popped the lid on the tank, I went inside. And closed the windows. It was fragrant.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbocYyroOXtsd1wko3OngggRDhXvcfmXIy2iHlaqNrV39b4eJu7R39v58Y0CWN8m4pD3OKFvShqSCozDZOYsXhaqPRnij7avkIrQ-0wm-szEMHF9wodStM7XuJp0fKKnLmz7CnhBSpSHXF/s1600/IMG_0996.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbocYyroOXtsd1wko3OngggRDhXvcfmXIy2iHlaqNrV39b4eJu7R39v58Y0CWN8m4pD3OKFvShqSCozDZOYsXhaqPRnij7avkIrQ-0wm-szEMHF9wodStM7XuJp0fKKnLmz7CnhBSpSHXF/s640/IMG_0996.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Time to go inside. And shut the windows.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">And spray some air freshener.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">When the pumping stopped he declared my system in perfect shape, well built and good to go. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrC3swgov_fN0Oqg_A9cfByZ-D1VMq8Mnr29Rqm9enGSLlc9PkhpHnaRv2iCoxqA-LNTmfacLulrxWNUch2f-bTuiRR0XCuL6XrZ_hAiMQn6qcblHgvKteoF7E3KBlB0NBVwT4MzH5nTiV/s1600/IMG_0997.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrC3swgov_fN0Oqg_A9cfByZ-D1VMq8Mnr29Rqm9enGSLlc9PkhpHnaRv2iCoxqA-LNTmfacLulrxWNUch2f-bTuiRR0XCuL6XrZ_hAiMQn6qcblHgvKteoF7E3KBlB0NBVwT4MzH5nTiV/s640/IMG_0997.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">The magic is happening. </span></div>
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Whew! Such a relief.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV4-HmNnSurQRMyMwVs7AXi6rUExwsaPlO0iZI7pNMidEsyGZ5BViN1WZ6cBmg60ahkBFkV398bHtA6uYf9io7h2Bh3PtPY3NbVDamqRC6WkEwYGXsvaRanDObzK4KWkqkBjlFI4M_BmkN/s1600/IMG_2511.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV4-HmNnSurQRMyMwVs7AXi6rUExwsaPlO0iZI7pNMidEsyGZ5BViN1WZ6cBmg60ahkBFkV398bHtA6uYf9io7h2Bh3PtPY3NbVDamqRC6WkEwYGXsvaRanDObzK4KWkqkBjlFI4M_BmkN/s640/IMG_2511.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Last order of the day...mark the spot.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">I think I'll order a sign marker. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">What should it say? </span></div>
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Moral of the story? If you have a septic tank, get it emptied every few years. Recommendations run from three to five years or maybe a little longer if you don't use it constantly. Treat it kindly. I am rabid about nothing but waste and toilet paper going into ours. No grease, no food scraps, no hair, very very little bleach, nothing else. Septic systems require good bugs to keep everything being broken down. Keep those babies happy. A new septic system can run anywhere from $10,000 up to ...eek!...$50,000. See why I was so relieved?<br />
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And...this week I am going to fulfill No. 4: A Performance at <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_Rocks_Amphitheatre">Red Rocks</a>. Soooo excited. Red Rocks is sooo close and it has been closed all summer. The <a href="https://coloradosymphony.org/">Colorado Symphony</a> is doing abbreviated, socially distanced performances there for smaller groups. We will be hearing the percussion and brass sections. The next night will be Drive In movie night at Red Rocks. Going to that also. So much excitement after months of <i><b>NOTHING</b></i>.<br />
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Everyone on public sewer systems, go thank your cities.<br />
Everyone on a septic system, check the last clean out date.<br />
And please, everyone wear your masks and wash your hands.<br />
And vote.<br />
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A lovely septic system diagram:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vIoa_qPqeQ_aTQjJ-CdnPBK9slzw6ueaugtiMHmJQnQK6oogo_czekr80xsnuxNbTeZyEacvv5xGBqDzewFGi-sCjA5tVO77Ritd8Gxzn18zlbfE08DrQlrL-kUVUTad9j20C_epaXdp/s1600/5adadf3044575cbb3a509ba2eb4a3644.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="413" data-original-width="905" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vIoa_qPqeQ_aTQjJ-CdnPBK9slzw6ueaugtiMHmJQnQK6oogo_czekr80xsnuxNbTeZyEacvv5xGBqDzewFGi-sCjA5tVO77Ritd8Gxzn18zlbfE08DrQlrL-kUVUTad9j20C_epaXdp/s640/5adadf3044575cbb3a509ba2eb4a3644.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">More information than you ever wanted!</span></div>
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<br />Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-65359527792107427352020-08-12T04:00:00.000-05:002020-08-12T04:00:03.192-05:00Cabin Fluffing...<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">Cabin Fluffing....</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Last week I spent some time at the cabin getting it fluffed up. Still unsure if the final plan is rent or sell or live in, but no matter what, there are always things to be done in a house. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">First up was glue the closet door back together upstairs. Now, not one door in this house matches another. This closet is under the eaves so the door has been cut down to fit the opening. Over the years it had been sticking, the parts came loose and then it really stuck which meant basically you had to hold the door together as you opened it. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibcuFvX3LjV1IbEIoTo2FoM9mthR56YdB1e0aH4PLrhZoYTl9KyvW4Z-uAnI_dOQBfrwJXt05BybVyhCh2LNUxcxHLtvV0v4fadAVT83NTKNnvActnHoib6upe5e2GE0yuqvSoHpBBHwS3/s1600/IMG_2478.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibcuFvX3LjV1IbEIoTo2FoM9mthR56YdB1e0aH4PLrhZoYTl9KyvW4Z-uAnI_dOQBfrwJXt05BybVyhCh2LNUxcxHLtvV0v4fadAVT83NTKNnvActnHoib6upe5e2GE0yuqvSoHpBBHwS3/s640/IMG_2478.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">The upper right side of the door always hung behind while the rest opened up.</span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">This should have been an easy-peasy fix. Pop the pin out of the hinges and pull the door off to glue it.</span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">But no. Look:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLCpNFeP0Y40A9x84Ypw7dKog6sGU1AxgZ5NSWtAwkAX8vOCuGoi-4jfWn4UJ4ILAiLMqU2xjkk-fh3AzQWfJ4bJ7HM6sATPb6ekMh9UETzHXOFSfRw9RsI8WCBhDm8sHGcT0VaxmOo564/s1600/IMG_2479.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLCpNFeP0Y40A9x84Ypw7dKog6sGU1AxgZ5NSWtAwkAX8vOCuGoi-4jfWn4UJ4ILAiLMqU2xjkk-fh3AzQWfJ4bJ7HM6sATPb6ekMh9UETzHXOFSfRw9RsI8WCBhDm8sHGcT0VaxmOo564/s640/IMG_2479.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Yep. Some genius chiseled out a spot in the wood for the hinges, making it impossible to remove the door without completely removing the hinges.</span></div>
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So, off with the hinges. And the door. Liquid Nails to the rescue and Voila! door repaired. </div>
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Next up was the side mud room door. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih70gXZtgbUqehTvW50bt1nMrmsgDs5hxX18B0UqSELR1i4a8ziVZyA9MKdVQSBm1054YW92_tKs-U3SV1PqY4MFWN_J9aN8LWMcYfmsqDMmLY0OPz5gTLROI5obpjnXOP_9ncpUoLOAwd/s1600/IMG_2485.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih70gXZtgbUqehTvW50bt1nMrmsgDs5hxX18B0UqSELR1i4a8ziVZyA9MKdVQSBm1054YW92_tKs-U3SV1PqY4MFWN_J9aN8LWMcYfmsqDMmLY0OPz5gTLROI5obpjnXOP_9ncpUoLOAwd/s640/IMG_2485.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Pretty rough shape...</span></div>
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The wood had not been painted on that door for easily 15 years, possibly longer. Talk about weather beaten. I started to sand it but realized there would be no door left if I got rid of all the grain. Instead I patched, sanded a bit, and primed it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggN3_5GoojPhzYw_Vjsmo0wjoH2SHBdwug82pqZr9ZDjHtSnTv9PXFyoHvlVRwfU47AK8t74WVYenLIx8LjQoxTxVXNCSSMzlsaevmG_LWdTtjEssTW_7tTmvD8mYN_EXumHhtYuCketB/s1600/IMG_0983.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggN3_5GoojPhzYw_Vjsmo0wjoH2SHBdwug82pqZr9ZDjHtSnTv9PXFyoHvlVRwfU47AK8t74WVYenLIx8LjQoxTxVXNCSSMzlsaevmG_LWdTtjEssTW_7tTmvD8mYN_EXumHhtYuCketB/s640/IMG_0983.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Primed and ready for paint. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Yes, I was lazy and didn't even bother to remove the door from the hinges. </span></div>
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Two coats of paint later, look!! Gives the whole side of the cabin a finished look. Bunny says it looks very outdoorsy and reminds her of REI. I guess that's good.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUC7xIfQI-fyiZCRNQkMKvQ_UVboDKREerUMn8Z7H4FH9sYaWPFr2ks6UzZXIVNGuZuUezfG_RoppFSEIsDqQg8binydP3ewOqtZJwHG_SmX1q9uZoREmFel2kheSmWRWJi75hgFUj01ZO/s1600/IMG_2492.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUC7xIfQI-fyiZCRNQkMKvQ_UVboDKREerUMn8Z7H4FH9sYaWPFr2ks6UzZXIVNGuZuUezfG_RoppFSEIsDqQg8binydP3ewOqtZJwHG_SmX1q9uZoREmFel2kheSmWRWJi75hgFUj01ZO/s640/IMG_2492.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Slowly getting away from the completely neglected look.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Notice my deer planter is wearing his mask.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">They are mandatory in Colorado.</span></div>
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Since the mud room door was spiffed up I decided to move on to the shelving unit in there. This shelf came with the cabin and was painted/stained a dark brown with lots of paint marks and scratches. Ugly but very serviceable. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgajcZnLSf1awLfezIMH3qEz0iH5hjotqERPy3PndkmqDlUnKCBz0Ui-ovPSsFN3_R5Jkjqy_DRTWvi2BcChtcAkO9rxsleJXHttYU5sYQjHAe_qrVZUQyQCgfQchN2H9qwn8yafWMaGrCB/s1600/DSC_0338.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1279" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgajcZnLSf1awLfezIMH3qEz0iH5hjotqERPy3PndkmqDlUnKCBz0Ui-ovPSsFN3_R5Jkjqy_DRTWvi2BcChtcAkO9rxsleJXHttYU5sYQjHAe_qrVZUQyQCgfQchN2H9qwn8yafWMaGrCB/s640/DSC_0338.jpeg" width="510" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">An oldie but goody of Bunny and the mud room shelf.</span></div>
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I used this opportunity to get rid of all the half used/almost empty cans of Chalk paint by mixing everything together. The end result was a very pretty green/teal and Whoa! what an improvement. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFDhVTjFm3lC3NZvZhY0IeVG2n9Z3cgtUdB-BSzf7U0wEH2CMX9JFIcBKeLpk0Hl1HEdyeGFd-ggjwBQg_jMMLDqJ8K7_VfGjL-NaNVsUzIL9MG4riYfwsOUqBAsT07xxZ4XkDU6eJgEDa/s1600/IMG_0986.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFDhVTjFm3lC3NZvZhY0IeVG2n9Z3cgtUdB-BSzf7U0wEH2CMX9JFIcBKeLpk0Hl1HEdyeGFd-ggjwBQg_jMMLDqJ8K7_VfGjL-NaNVsUzIL9MG4riYfwsOUqBAsT07xxZ4XkDU6eJgEDa/s640/IMG_0986.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">So much brighter and happier looking.</span></div>
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On a roll, I hung a sign that had been at my parent's house(s) for a million years. I believe the San Antonio neighbors gave it to them back in the 1960s. Made in memory of a San Miguel trip, I'm sure. When Mom's house was sold, I couldn't bear to leave it behind. Instead of hanging over the garage door, it now graces a spot over my basement door.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvaI5bU2RTFJwcNkB-lRNuSxvl8OVKtD3ocMPozStEykEY_0Td4Y2Zw166tMgmzcZME73H0Q6ELziJ3uC_RGS42l52_EqQ_-jmumzP04aynuPB_7GrGYzMIH8vacEejXtxHCFPNK87v1_g/s1600/IMG_2472.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvaI5bU2RTFJwcNkB-lRNuSxvl8OVKtD3ocMPozStEykEY_0Td4Y2Zw166tMgmzcZME73H0Q6ELziJ3uC_RGS42l52_EqQ_-jmumzP04aynuPB_7GrGYzMIH8vacEejXtxHCFPNK87v1_g/s640/IMG_2472.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">I'll have to get the accurate history behind this sign.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">For a good 40 years I thought the words were burned into the driftwood. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Maybe five years ago I realized they were just written on with a black Sharpie.</span></div>
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And, to highlight the week of fluffing, I got a call from the septic company. SO EXCITING! After being on the waitlist for almost a YEAR, they are finally coming out. When we bought the cabin it had been empty for a few years, the owner was in hospice, the wife didn't even know where the septic clean out was, so we (foolishly) said...no worries, it all works now. Eleven years later I have tried on my own with the metal detector to find the clean out with zero success. Nightmare septic system stories got me motivated to have it found. Best to be proactive with these kinds of things. </div>
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Sooooo....sometime tomorrow Mountain High Septic will come do their magic. I hope. Crossing my fingers. Hate dealing with the unknown. Everyone say their prayers for me. A good septic system is awesome. a failing one is an expensive mess. </div>
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Here's to a fluffed cabin and an empty septic tank. Everyone have a great week and wear your masks. </div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-41595096078206569912020-07-31T05:00:00.000-05:002020-07-31T05:00:00.251-05:00No. 28: Learn to shoot a gun<br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">No. 28: Learn to shoot a gun!</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">I did it!</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Friend loves online auctions and one morning he asked "Didn't you say you wanted to learn to shoot?" Yep, I sure did. Soooooo..... he bid on a gun for me. And I totally forgot about it.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Until the next morning when he announced I was now the proud owner of a Smith & Wesson 38 Special. Uh, how did that happen again?</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9YMSUJJBb6YD81TCySbB3C7wbu_qpXP_MvRfLwlLVKb4Iri0bdgN_weG7PrgJ-ivnBUmoCGhcAypggKpYWNH8vpKf_hjLjsK6Zz0nxgnXRVRKseWrCr1th7liO8dp8u-y9CwVmobtYb6E/s1600/IMG_0751.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9YMSUJJBb6YD81TCySbB3C7wbu_qpXP_MvRfLwlLVKb4Iri0bdgN_weG7PrgJ-ivnBUmoCGhcAypggKpYWNH8vpKf_hjLjsK6Zz0nxgnXRVRKseWrCr1th7liO8dp8u-y9CwVmobtYb6E/s640/IMG_0751.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Isn't it cute? </span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Anyway, the gun arrived, a membership to the gun club materialized and Voila! all I had to do was schedule myself for a class.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">With all the traveling and the pandemic and, you know, life....I had not gotten around to it. Until I did. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">I signed myself up for the Women's Only Introduction to Pistols at <a href="https://bristleconeshooting.com/">Bristlecone Shooting range</a> in Lakewood, Co. This was the week. Four hours of instruction: two in the classroom and two on the range.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Now, I wanted to learn to shoot a gun because it just seems like a good thing to know. I have no delusions that I will be packing heat on a regular basis but I did want to feel comfortable around them. And I do have a house in the woods surrounded by bears and mountain lions and ...ahem...a few crazy people. Besides, aren't Texas girls supposed to know how to shoot? </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">So I paid close attention during class and then nervously entered the range. There had been much discussion about "recoil" which was not something I realized I needed to worry about.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">We dry fired our guns...practicing without bullets... before I got the lesson on loading and a review of safety rules and then...show time.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Geez, I was nervous. I pulled the trigger and screamed "F**K". (Thankfully only 3 of us on the range and no one seemed offended.) It was at that moment that I realized I basically just set off some gun powder in my hand, barely encased in the stainless steel. And here is my first shot. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgovn7Ej7If7g_gNJ6ueow0wJt2sCxKvU6Z_G6ixJ1kWq_OkEAr7KZP6zZyKT0Q4zCDdDYJI4ayPTHzNFJRJ3tG_tBCS8fILg7B6sAytqv3pIh1zWHWzPUgpyToFTKWRyD_eaaEOEsR4eq7/s1600/IMG_0954.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgovn7Ej7If7g_gNJ6ueow0wJt2sCxKvU6Z_G6ixJ1kWq_OkEAr7KZP6zZyKT0Q4zCDdDYJI4ayPTHzNFJRJ3tG_tBCS8fILg7B6sAytqv3pIh1zWHWzPUgpyToFTKWRyD_eaaEOEsR4eq7/s640/IMG_0954.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">If you're looking all over, </span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">let me just point out that one perfect hole in the center of the A.</span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Which was exactly where it was supposed to be.</span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Not bad, huh? But that was because I was unaware of how LOUD it would be. And there would be a bright flash. And the gun would actually smoke at times. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">The first 45 minutes I jumped at every shot, mine or the other student's. And sometimes at the shots from the range next door. It seemed that box of 50 bullets was going to last forever... and there was still another hour of range time left....and maybe this wasn't such a good idea. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigvyIyeD6Jx1-EIn_7hvBI-ZOZGmbOwObFzTCWqi_gmWBVt-tyW3Fw1BQfODKOsYWgzPemTvxYYusjuDy7y2OTVRy5WYLEOIcojVOIWAPZI3rTphlnZNN9xfS75Wk1VViMNHlC2RlSUB3n/s1600/IMG_0957.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigvyIyeD6Jx1-EIn_7hvBI-ZOZGmbOwObFzTCWqi_gmWBVt-tyW3Fw1BQfODKOsYWgzPemTvxYYusjuDy7y2OTVRy5WYLEOIcojVOIWAPZI3rTphlnZNN9xfS75Wk1VViMNHlC2RlSUB3n/s640/IMG_0957.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Cock that gun...</span></div>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">But I persevered. And it got to be fun. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiow8UAgwlQBcKgcTHV-jEvQf_mycOzcLUhF6Bo6GB3dZqasrYrD5qphUSSE93CDg3RxCHHLIkh1HmmhJghKZn2yCueMUHJDmyu73GABOgSWmGgJtQyvU1C2ezSily6HlnPJUOkY5CdyluX/s1600/IMG_0955.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiow8UAgwlQBcKgcTHV-jEvQf_mycOzcLUhF6Bo6GB3dZqasrYrD5qphUSSE93CDg3RxCHHLIkh1HmmhJghKZn2yCueMUHJDmyu73GABOgSWmGgJtQyvU1C2ezSily6HlnPJUOkY5CdyluX/s640/IMG_0955.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Aim.</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">And no, I wasn't that great although I can proudly say that there were fifty bullets in the box and I ended up with fifty holes in the target. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">We weren't supposed to aim for the head. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">I did feel bad about getting the target in the nuts, though.</span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Can't wait to go back. <a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/p/the-60-x-60-list.html">No. 28</a> is done.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">(And no, I was not sore the next morning. That little revolver really didn't have much recoil.</span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">BUT... My right shoulder blade was sore the second morning. Probably just from holding my arms at an angle I was unused to....)</span><br />
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<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"><br /></span>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-86595257069568905102020-07-28T07:00:00.000-05:002020-07-28T07:00:05.694-05:00Day 470billion<h2 style="text-align: left;"><b><font color="#ff00fe" face="helvetica">Day 470billion and counting....</font></b></h2><div><font face="helvetica"><b><br /></b></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">Well, here we are still...smack dab in the middle of the pandemic. I finally caved and bought myself a laptop because this thing doesn't seem to be going away and I need connection. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">How is everyone holding up? My former home state of Texas is getting hammered right now and I know sooo many people who are sick and too many people who have lost loved ones.</font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">Still unemployed although my benefits will run out before the end of the year so...yea...that's a problem. I am trying desperately to come up with a way to support myself that does not include going to a 9 to 5 job. If anyone has suggestions, I am all ears. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">And how have I been passing the time? Surprisingly, by traveling. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">I spent a week in Texas packing up my mom's house. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyY6vBktm1SWLIt19xVSXfe7iRW0n4TZNjnZleIUYuoPF5AaRkT4-z-Ic1nD_ROhOtD_XVeTEDhznxHQzf5CMMOJ9Tjf3zkaHCU9B_8x9NM-S4eDI6kMwt_ab-qapHCF6nA2KaggVtozjg/s2048/IMG_0657.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="625" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyY6vBktm1SWLIt19xVSXfe7iRW0n4TZNjnZleIUYuoPF5AaRkT4-z-Ic1nD_ROhOtD_XVeTEDhznxHQzf5CMMOJ9Tjf3zkaHCU9B_8x9NM-S4eDI6kMwt_ab-qapHCF6nA2KaggVtozjg/w469-h625/IMG_0657.jpeg" width="469" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">One closet down, the rest of the house to go...</font></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Visiting with friends was cut short by my brother's announcement that he tested positive for Covid19 about an hour after we had lunch together. Fortunately that was a false positive but still...no one (including me) was willing to interact with that possible diagnosis hanging over my head. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6hZXcAb-rNDJbo88fVeYStYcCbn_jYNcgEu4XI6tUcHnTHor02cq6_1VaJAFoIFiyA-1jxFmZBgRi5Ae0od9VlCl2qKw4St2F4Z4Uyh4twMYn80mY2PVaRvNH-mhiXl9SEysfZcZH7Xfj/s2048/IMG_0631.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="469" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6hZXcAb-rNDJbo88fVeYStYcCbn_jYNcgEu4XI6tUcHnTHor02cq6_1VaJAFoIFiyA-1jxFmZBgRi5Ae0od9VlCl2qKw4St2F4Z4Uyh4twMYn80mY2PVaRvNH-mhiXl9SEysfZcZH7Xfj/w625-h469/IMG_0631.jpeg" width="625" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">My most favorite discovery amongst the millions of photos <br />and souvenirs of lives well lived:<br />My Great Aunt Louise and her sorority sisters <br />at the University of Texas<br />Circa 1919<br /><br /></font></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><font face="helvetica">Anyway, I got the house mostly packed up before heading back to Colorado.</font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">Bunny graduated from Ole Miss (YAY!) and moved to Tampa. She liked the idea of being closer to her sister but wasn't that fond of the East coast of Florida. Current boyfriend lives in Tampa and his mom was a lifesaver in finding her an apartment. Of course, the job opportunities that were everywhere in March completely dried up by her move in May and she has just now gotten a job. Anyway, I wanted to get to Florida to see both girls before life intervened and we all were working and unable to visit. A long weekend in Tampa at the beginning of June was perfect. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXID8JMNsY17eG3EsQ86NdBLvaLBIpD1EDCgla70IHaEwPfF-WU0rahd_jQbS6cABObKibZASEMufX77vcz4neAdkyhgOk2twqhGBfvYEHuf10QNfeKbn92mWRjgWJbbeNFFzwjfABjO9s/s2048/D827729F-CC70-4C1F-B1D0-9CF6F334668A.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="625" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXID8JMNsY17eG3EsQ86NdBLvaLBIpD1EDCgla70IHaEwPfF-WU0rahd_jQbS6cABObKibZASEMufX77vcz4neAdkyhgOk2twqhGBfvYEHuf10QNfeKbn92mWRjgWJbbeNFFzwjfABjO9s/w625-h625/D827729F-CC70-4C1F-B1D0-9CF6F334668A.jpeg" width="625" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">Belle, Me, Bunny<br />at the beach in Florida</font></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /></div><div><font face="helvetica">Belle and her BF came over from Palm Beach and I got to meet Bunny's BF for the first time. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica">Love love love Bunny's little apartment-walking distance to restaurants and stores- and the beach at Clearwater is gorgeous. Her job starts this week so cross your fingers all goes well. Belle is also back to work after being laid off but she says it is impossibly slow. Florida being another hot spot for the virus makes her job a challenge. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">Home from Florida I headed to the cabin for a week to supervise a new roof installation. I'm on the fence about what to do with that cabin. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZVU3qMlyZMEJdFNtXxay102CB172jem307MBQJtQ5gUQpIgK8C-KAKxtRSC5pupsNhas_4dKrV1hhdGSuQSBxGzFOsyJVjcxTTAkQa2QFyOUqd7JUNLSIUMLMWQOXTfH3VEqXzPxLHJU/s2048/IMG_2344.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZVU3qMlyZMEJdFNtXxay102CB172jem307MBQJtQ5gUQpIgK8C-KAKxtRSC5pupsNhas_4dKrV1hhdGSuQSBxGzFOsyJVjcxTTAkQa2QFyOUqd7JUNLSIUMLMWQOXTfH3VEqXzPxLHJU/w500-h375/IMG_2344.jpeg" width="500" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">New roof, fresh paint. <br />Want to buy it? </font></td></tr></tbody></table><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">Love it dearly but it has its drawbacks. I've been staying in Golden for 5 months now and enjoying being back in civilization. After my hospital stay last November I realized that living in a rural area was maybe not the best of long term plans. Add to that the need/desire to be within an hour of the airport and the cabin looks less and less inviting. Welcoming any suggestions or extravagant offers to purchase it...</font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">For July 4th we drove to Montana <a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/p/the-60-x-60-list.html" target="_blank">(No. 65: Visit a new state!) </a>to visit Friend's brother. We took the RV which was a fun experiment, my having only been in an RV once before. (And even then we stayed local.)</font><span style="font-family: helvetica;"> So we drove for two days through Wyoming and Montana to Bigfork. I expected the Eastern side of Wyoming to be more mountainous...I guess because my only other experience with Wyoming was Yellowstone National Park. I had volunteered to drive the RV until I realized the speed limit was 80 and that sucker was bigger than I expected. Nope, couldn't do it. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX9ysn4lHugymjIcgSHoPwq0-5dhSLrJhLlFf8IfLSdfahb4nT3bHCvP9DdSZt3pCvyegcfh-V7xKojcKTUkuM8xsAK4BcUsJDS_Fvv_1s-_u92Wfb4jKKJID-ZF5ZQXUB8w3CO7w0o-S1/s2958/IMG_0823.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="2958" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX9ysn4lHugymjIcgSHoPwq0-5dhSLrJhLlFf8IfLSdfahb4nT3bHCvP9DdSZt3pCvyegcfh-V7xKojcKTUkuM8xsAK4BcUsJDS_Fvv_1s-_u92Wfb4jKKJID-ZF5ZQXUB8w3CO7w0o-S1/w781-h281/IMG_0823.jpeg" width="781" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">Ok. So it doesn't seem that big here. <br />But I was more comfortable driving the Smart Car....<br />And isn't this a magnificent Montana Sunset? </font></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">Working on <a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/p/the-60-x-60-list.html" target="_blank">No. 99</a>, we stopped at the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_the_Little_Bighorn" target="_blank">Battlefield of the Little Bighorn</a> (aka Custer's Last Stand). It's fascinating to drive through the fields (I had my own personal historian and park buff driving me) and even with other cars and people, I could imagine the horses coming over the hills, how easy it must have been for Custer to miscalculate the number of Native Americans down below, see the whole scenario play out....</font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">Bigfork, MT is darling and the brother's house on the water was perfect for July 4 fireworks. Honestly, I've never seen so many explosives in the sky in one night. There was a professional display from the Lodge across the lake and then the neighbors were all competing against each other and it was almost overload. And that's from someone who ADORES fireworks. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6OfDgO3z-PGTTZiuCAq6oMq-47ugEHORF0Afp1qPxvV69UA6O94xGERTc10DFKgcCRUir0IyJXf515CJyLvmO_KT2d33WdZ-fzrRvSEbCVO7HYTK5KZ6CEO-2qH9ZcAOgfjVv49CxE21e/s2048/IMG_0847.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="781" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6OfDgO3z-PGTTZiuCAq6oMq-47ugEHORF0Afp1qPxvV69UA6O94xGERTc10DFKgcCRUir0IyJXf515CJyLvmO_KT2d33WdZ-fzrRvSEbCVO7HYTK5KZ6CEO-2qH9ZcAOgfjVv49CxE21e/w586-h781/IMG_0847.jpeg" width="586" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">Magical</font></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAbLG6fyvy-V4itQi3jBM0CqhTQpruSxV8GcxnNxqHvPjIcQFIOq5SiG4BdBZQ3PCFrUXRbgTjCrwVJbshNTKv0Sxr9dCuhOWtVO_mLJ2vSsHlF-cAtUuje5QLWaEGyx5uxe_hlf06OID/s2048/IMG_0848.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="781" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPAbLG6fyvy-V4itQi3jBM0CqhTQpruSxV8GcxnNxqHvPjIcQFIOq5SiG4BdBZQ3PCFrUXRbgTjCrwVJbshNTKv0Sxr9dCuhOWtVO_mLJ2vSsHlF-cAtUuje5QLWaEGyx5uxe_hlf06OID/w586-h781/IMG_0848.jpeg" width="586" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">Love!</font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFJf20CctQbVROxKzTnAvgaL8SG6A3VcVyTC4uVoDKhfTixUoN3GYvUgVrANpPDWufWgSVPFpPcLOMe1-NJDkomQUVESIVPJb0vnVo1nqu1IVEvFeLxdswBmktEknI8neMeWoo7D-lVad/s1440/6D8BBDBD-70C6-40C8-A229-D86BB1FFC986.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1439" data-original-width="1440" height="625" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFJf20CctQbVROxKzTnAvgaL8SG6A3VcVyTC4uVoDKhfTixUoN3GYvUgVrANpPDWufWgSVPFpPcLOMe1-NJDkomQUVESIVPJb0vnVo1nqu1IVEvFeLxdswBmktEknI8neMeWoo7D-lVad/w625-h625/6D8BBDBD-70C6-40C8-A229-D86BB1FFC986.jpeg" width="625" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">Like the Milky Way exploding!</font></div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">We tried to go through <a href="https://www.nps.gov/glac/index.htm" target="_blank">Glacier National Park </a>but, like many public areas, it was overwhelmed with visitors and many parts shut down. We ended up with a picnic by the lake and a stop on the way home for cherries. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_rx4Wi01yxP073JBOcIp1bPQhOC2ASMF-6U77MVFe1GcTXRVtQ6ht4-HnRsGO_zf3JtoT3gugQGFhgiEeaVp0d3dI2__O0A4a1HHPe3cpXyl94NuAFa-Ba0v427_VjwASknIvkYvb2HT/s2048/IMG_0875.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_rx4Wi01yxP073JBOcIp1bPQhOC2ASMF-6U77MVFe1GcTXRVtQ6ht4-HnRsGO_zf3JtoT3gugQGFhgiEeaVp0d3dI2__O0A4a1HHPe3cpXyl94NuAFa-Ba0v427_VjwASknIvkYvb2HT/w375-h500/IMG_0875.jpeg" width="375" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">A particularly awful pic of me in front of <br />Lake McDonald. <br />Riding in a convertible will give you that lovely hairdo. </font></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">Home from Montana for two days and then off again to Texas. JeanMom's house had sold and the deadline to be out was fast approaching. Fortunately, emptying houses is my jam. I packed, I sorted and I emptied. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBesPqMqWT9Mw-2qmXLIpC5-Y1g-yMacw65TFgwvB_uBW3jng0uZlUXGD1LMlQZlkr96nOC1-SA6Lfh3TrryGP8uz0Bjf1pMdfi-aRd8ZdwrNEnyEhboQ8Jmp9S_ol0Jr8zqRKz2Onwomd/s2048/IMG_0895.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBesPqMqWT9Mw-2qmXLIpC5-Y1g-yMacw65TFgwvB_uBW3jng0uZlUXGD1LMlQZlkr96nOC1-SA6Lfh3TrryGP8uz0Bjf1pMdfi-aRd8ZdwrNEnyEhboQ8Jmp9S_ol0Jr8zqRKz2Onwomd/w500-h375/IMG_0895.jpeg" width="500" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">Little house ready to move on to a new owner.</font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">We did not disclose the ghost that came with the house.</font></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">He's friendly.</font></div></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">The Ft Bend Women's Center was the beneficiary of some items, the rest went to storage to be sorted through when it isn't July in Texas. </font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsg4_K5rc9ufm8JSEShhEXnVZIK0G3zhgs7l4kO4EeI4YDua_7-iv7WXGr5NAmHVZyVVRAlhUQW8DrbPGC6SRQ6VkOxIhbREOq3XjoyrnJp2_mcd-8WWAwcxYjo66WaRbB3DR7D-NYUMRq/s2048/IMG_0911.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="625" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsg4_K5rc9ufm8JSEShhEXnVZIK0G3zhgs7l4kO4EeI4YDua_7-iv7WXGr5NAmHVZyVVRAlhUQW8DrbPGC6SRQ6VkOxIhbREOq3XjoyrnJp2_mcd-8WWAwcxYjo66WaRbB3DR7D-NYUMRq/w469-h625/IMG_0911.jpeg" width="469" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">Someone at the Women's Center has a sense of humor.<br /><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toy_Story" target="_blank">Woody</a> hanging on to the back of a moving truck!<br /><br /></font></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: helvetica;">WHY do I seem to end up doing my moving in the heat of the summer? No clue. I'll probably end up moving out of the cabin in the middle of January during a blizzard. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ffaKpQ2w9GlMMzqehKxQzrR19pBrquPJmbzpnTP_YeyRYQerij8mQZXKsS4ax1UgXdR3NgLcDk4BGcmzTcjaZoS7LwFPQQFICGRbF-sZ5Nm5fpKpUmVQfY2PI3YV0DqzlPRVY9e1BqOc/s2048/IMG_0915.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="625" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ffaKpQ2w9GlMMzqehKxQzrR19pBrquPJmbzpnTP_YeyRYQerij8mQZXKsS4ax1UgXdR3NgLcDk4BGcmzTcjaZoS7LwFPQQFICGRbF-sZ5Nm5fpKpUmVQfY2PI3YV0DqzlPRVY9e1BqOc/w469-h625/IMG_0915.jpeg" width="469" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">The storage unit <b><i>filled</i></b>!</font></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">And now, as the Corona virus seems to be having a come back and states are grappling with masks and shut downs and the impending school year, I am back in Golden. The one project I started back in May, a baby quilt for a friend, has FINALLY been completed. Like everything else this year, this project was filled with false starts and corrections and mistakes. I completed the top once, only to trash it and start completely over. The new top was attached to the backing and then ripped apart to be redone because I didn't like the batting. This is one project I will be happy to put in the mail. At least I can say I am happy with the results. </font></div><div><br /></div><div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTBPuHm8zUh0auWneADyrqIu8HPiWKNX8mxaw4QGSWwlFjgG5ZcrBif5GX7tY383UerrYK5Dnf1gRvGmZoZCQRfNO3G0Cw54sp7b5q5NebWgOA3QOl9mSnpXU8TKPO-fnxX6qPBfNjRiWC/s2048/F472D370-DFE6-4F55-9D78-1775037B7010.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2045" data-original-width="2048" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTBPuHm8zUh0auWneADyrqIu8HPiWKNX8mxaw4QGSWwlFjgG5ZcrBif5GX7tY383UerrYK5Dnf1gRvGmZoZCQRfNO3G0Cw54sp7b5q5NebWgOA3QOl9mSnpXU8TKPO-fnxX6qPBfNjRiWC/w500-h500/F472D370-DFE6-4F55-9D78-1775037B7010.jpeg" width="500" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><font color="#0b5394">In progress here, and now done. <br />Into the mail today!</font></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica">So. Any suggestions for gainful employment, creative (paying) endeavors and or housing solutions will be welcomed. </font></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: helvetica;">Everyone stay safe, wear your masks and wash your hands.</span></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><font face="helvetica"><br /></font></div><div><br /></div>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-58126675215563913212020-04-28T03:30:00.000-05:002020-04-28T03:30:00.139-05:00Quarantine Rhythms<br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">Quarantine Rhythms</span><br />
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So. Seven weeks into this COVID 19 mess, how is everyone doing? Have you figured out a pattern to your lives yet when the days just run together?<br />
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I'm finding a rhythm to life without anything scheduled and am quite enjoying it. Although I fear my brain will have turned to mush and I will NEVER be able to complete a thought again once we come out of all this. And we WILL come out of it. I predict a <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2020/04/how-pandemic-will-change-face-retail/610738/?utm_medium=10today.ad3li.20200427.smartflab.421.2&utm_source=email&utm_content=article&utm_campaign=10-for-today---4.0-styling">new normal</a>, but there will be a normal once again.<br />
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Are y'all getting dressed? I read in the <a href="https://www.wsj.com/articles/coronavirus-melts-demand-for-unilevers-ice-cream-11587633932?emailToken=f665854c3dce866ccc767268e8bd965f+OZUqEoz0rr8e9MwKR/fgaSsRfvNv+R4FCX34MpfKIbFgl0wT1LeoWItzyTq4tEVD3E0X23MOwC+vBerzjxONe8oCLRphuUcdFUkdZTT+MI%3D&reflink=article_email_share">Wall Street Journal</a> yesterday that deodorant and shampoo sales were down. I am still getting up and getting dressed although I have the leggings and sweatpants in high rotation. Every morning I put on my <a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2014/09/no-36-find-signature-fragrance-or-two.html">perfume</a> and mascara. And I AM using deodorant so I'm not responsible for the sales decline.<br />
The perfume may seem silly but I've always worn it for myself and besides, one of the first signs of having contracted this virus is losing your sense of smell. I figure if I spray on my perfume and can't smell it....better be checking my temperature.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbY8kfL980oOC9tk67hpVX_fVUf26PoX3Mv6oiid_IhY-oM6jUW80_BJDG1uL5Q_pSs2fqOumCxjK3AaCKRtpEOSvJRXP854MDFJ0eOpFSw_Gys90npCLfULGVN_nBdmqhhOigTXLT3ntZ/s1600/IMG_2183.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbY8kfL980oOC9tk67hpVX_fVUf26PoX3Mv6oiid_IhY-oM6jUW80_BJDG1uL5Q_pSs2fqOumCxjK3AaCKRtpEOSvJRXP854MDFJ0eOpFSw_Gys90npCLfULGVN_nBdmqhhOigTXLT3ntZ/s640/IMG_2183.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">My two perfumes.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Corona virus testing at its finest.</span></div>
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Not that I've been going out a lot but the grocery store needs to be visited at least once a week. No point in not eating well while sheltering at home. We have experimented with sour dough and actually got a starter up and running. Our combined attempts at making bread have been less than successful. While edible, they have been a bit dense. At least the flavor is there! I did print off a high altitude recipe to try, thinking that may have been part of the issue. Also, apparently the older your starter, the better the results and this starter has not fully matured yet. I'll let you know.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgewhnbZp2ZqvUrezGIrYQNMiQiDmFJDJAZTZBbXTqV1Lj53vdlvLO36Nus6cmr_Fk95v5dtwTJiKIXVZKw53DeCRWRjazFpgCK0GSzgToI8SlAZOCxEmF9gGBdoQb3irxGWe-1jkzYo3hp/s1600/IMG_2171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgewhnbZp2ZqvUrezGIrYQNMiQiDmFJDJAZTZBbXTqV1Lj53vdlvLO36Nus6cmr_Fk95v5dtwTJiKIXVZKw53DeCRWRjazFpgCK0GSzgToI8SlAZOCxEmF9gGBdoQb3irxGWe-1jkzYo3hp/s640/IMG_2171.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">No-knead sourdough.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Also, no-good sourdough.</span></div>
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Entertainment has had to include binge watching <a href="https://www.netflix.com/title/81115994">Tiger King</a> because...of course. It's Quarantine 101. Such a train wreck and did <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carole_Baskin">Carole Baskin</a> really feed her husband to the tigers? Who knows? Since then, not much TV.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2xXAXEW7Zjmf0fky5wYXN5e-SBVODhT2fLOy21j6aIVIK2u5GsBNx0r6ZFAL8zgxMoR3QR2hiHBPWLVv8I4uD_d9c-r3HM4cgRkrbiwZUaDdEbEO0WqcqwHvyZtN8PSqJK6idlfNVPr_/s1600/IMG_2102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="482" data-original-width="523" height="588" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2xXAXEW7Zjmf0fky5wYXN5e-SBVODhT2fLOy21j6aIVIK2u5GsBNx0r6ZFAL8zgxMoR3QR2hiHBPWLVv8I4uD_d9c-r3HM4cgRkrbiwZUaDdEbEO0WqcqwHvyZtN8PSqJK6idlfNVPr_/s640/IMG_2102.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">My amazing and talented nephew photoshops these pics.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">You want a pic with Joe Exotic? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">I<a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/p/about-me.html"> can hook you up.</a></span></div>
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There has still been snow here in Colorado, garden planting can't start for another month, so the outdoors, while tempting, has not been my first choice. If it is a good day, the dogs get walked. Other days I sew. This afternoon we are going to get the bikes out and see if I remember how to ride one.<br />
(Edited to add: I got on the bike. I fell off. Seriously. Skinned my knee. Guess I don't remember.)<br />
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My sewing machine is here with me in Golden and it's been getting lots of use. Masks are required to go out in the Denver area and I'm not going to wear just any old thing...I had to make some. I tried a couple of different patterns before settling on one that is more fitted rather than the more ubiquitous pleated pattern.<br />
And then I had to make them for friends. And family. At this point I'm ready to start a mask making company...looks like we will be wearing them for a while. One for each outfit. (Ha! Like I'm wearing "outfits".) <a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/p/about-me.html">Hit me up </a>if you want one!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz8M5vy1RgNyBprps4jd_V4d8a0PYixNmEBO8S-3_ATBxr5oOnULdN7PW-QIonWrGu-KhduqX816wGa5mtfjkdPXQKZrELWQmyYrOHSGLd-cgsQ1bYR6wY07HePirW2W_UsJKMjg25uIyP/s1600/005F2F1F-FFD7-45E0-B9CD-B9CE7DD0536C.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="847" data-original-width="847" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz8M5vy1RgNyBprps4jd_V4d8a0PYixNmEBO8S-3_ATBxr5oOnULdN7PW-QIonWrGu-KhduqX816wGa5mtfjkdPXQKZrELWQmyYrOHSGLd-cgsQ1bYR6wY07HePirW2W_UsJKMjg25uIyP/s640/005F2F1F-FFD7-45E0-B9CD-B9CE7DD0536C.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">See why I put on mascara every day? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">My eyes are the only thing you see.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">I carried on a wonderful one sided conversation with a stranger at the grocery store the other day because everyone looks the same. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Although he looked at me like I was crazy.</span></div>
And then the big treat is going out to lunch. Now...don't get your panties in a twist. Denver doesn't have a secret stash of open restaurants. I wish. Lunch out is now driving through McDonald's, eating it in the car or bringing it home. Or picking up lunch somewhere and finding a not blocked off picnic table to sit at. The other day we drove over to Idaho Springs which is just about 20 miles west and picked up lunch at a microbrewery,<a href="https://tommyknocker.com/"> Tommyknocker</a>. Best BLT ever. Then we drove up into the mountains to eat. The plan was to find a picnic table near <a href="https://www.recreation.gov/camping/campgrounds/231857">Echo Lake</a> but it was snowing at that altitude, so we ate in the car and watched the snowflakes. Amazingly these simple acts of "getting out" make the days pass quicker and give me a sense of some normalcy. Taking a drive still qualifies as social distancing as far as I'm concerned.<br />
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To mark the end of the week we've been trying to have at least one nice dinner some night during the weekend. As in, maybe get out the good dishes. Definitely find a decent bottle of wine. Eat in the formal dining room. Put on real clothes. It's good to make an effort. There needs to be a way to mark time.<br />
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And the nicest thing? Sunday's are a day of rest. No projects or effort required.<br />
Maybe make a big breakfast, stay in bed, online church (honest- I know some of you are giggling), read the Sunday funnies. Zero expectations.<br />
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I hope everyone is managing. It's such an amazingly interesting time in the world. Document this quarantine, for yourself, for your kids. All at once, the entire world is in the same boat. The level of creativity and ingeniousness arising from everyone being at home is astounding. <a href="https://www.boredpanda.com/art-recreation-at-home-museum-challenge/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=organic&utm_campaign=organic">Great works of art </a>being recreated in homes. <a href="https://theknow.denverpost.com/2020/04/07/denver-howling-every-night-8-pm/236985/">Howling at 8:00pm</a> just to communicate to the neighborhoods around us. Everyone, every age learning how to use <a href="https://zoom.us/">Zoom</a>. As much as we are physically apart, the world still strives to connect.<br />
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Stay safe, wash your hands, wear your mask.<br />
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<br />Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-26592980308757499482020-04-20T04:30:00.000-05:002020-04-20T11:41:49.717-05:00Greetings from Isolation...<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">Greetings!</span><br />
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It has been soooo long.<br />
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Last time I posted it was right after <a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2019/12/no-13-thanksgiving-at-beach.html">Thanksgiving and the hospital stay and Oregon beach trip that accompanied that week.</a><br />
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Since then we have had Christmas and New Years and job upset (always job upset- my only constant for the last 2.5 years) and a trip and ....COVID-19.<br />
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Where to start?<br />
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I think with the job upset since that has been such a constant refrain in these posts for the last couple of years. At least when I bothered to post, it was a constant. Mid February our doctor called an office meeting and announced he was leaving our office to work for the only competition we had in our little tiny Colorado town. He was gone after the next day. The following week the Powers-that-Be from Colorado Springs drove in, took us out to dinner and gave us the news. The office will close in 2 weeks. No doctor, no office, no job. Effective March 2, I became unemployed. I had never been laid off before...always trying new things!<br />
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Surprisingly, I was pretty calm about this turn of events. Work had been so stressful, every time I got the hang of whatever the new normal was, something else was added to my position/office/situation. I was exhausted. My mom in Texas was going to need some help with her house since she had moved to Assisted Living so I had been thinking I was going to need to take some time off anyway. Truthfully I was relieved. The timing was impeccable. How perfect though, I had no idea.....<br />
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My retired friend suggested a quick trip before heading to Texas to help mom. Even though we had been hearing reports of a virus in China, it really had not hit home that it might be an issue. We scheduled flights out on March 7 after briefly discussing the possibility of "maybe we shouldn't go". We were headed to San Miguel de Allende in Mexico and figured since the virus had not been reported there, we would be fine.<br />
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We stopped in Texas on the way and attended the <a href="https://www.rodeohouston.com/">Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo</a>. (Previous experience at the rodeo<a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2017/03/springing-forward.html"> here</a>.) There were plenty of people in attendance although we did notice more hand washing stations and hand sanitizer.<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.marenmorris.com/">Maren Morris</a> at HLSR</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-small;">a VERY pregnant Maren Morris</span></div>
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The flight attendant on our flight the next morning assured us the seats had been sanitized for our protection, although we did do our own little wipe down with the Clorox wipes. Just in case, you know.<br />
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Once we got to Mexico, our only exposure to the Corona virus was through our morning emails and news updates. March 11 we heard that the Houston Rodeo had been cancelled, 11 days early. Friends were asking where was I, was I safe?<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">The only Corona we ran into.</span></div>
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Honestly we felt much safer in Mexico than we would have in the States. The virus had not traveled that far and restaurants and the state of Guanajuato were already being pro-active BEFORE they had any cases. Most places required hand sanitizer upon entry, restaurants removed tables to distance patrons and the fact that most everything was open air added to our sense of security. A decision was made to extend our stay. We had zero desire to return to the panic in the States.<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Enjoying a margarita before all the restaurants closed down.</span></div>
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Our original return date had been March 17, but we moved it to March 31- the last day before the airlines were supposed to start restricting flights. As the week wore on, the news from the States was looking more and more grim while Mexico was beginning to shut things down around us. On March 22 the Mexican government closed the churches. No more Catholic Mass. The church bells in San Miguel rang all day long to spread the news. We started thinking maybe we should leave sooner as our entertainment options were becoming limited. Many restaurants had already gone to take out only.<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">See that rope hanging down? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">That's how all the bells get rung- by hand. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Every quarter hour.</span></div>
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We scheduled a flight on the 26th only to have it cancelled, twice. We managed to get to Texas on the afternoon of the 26th. There were 15 passengers on the plane plus crew. Customs was EMPTY. Amazingly, coming into the country was a pieced of cake. No one asked if we were feeling sick, took our temp, nothing. Maybe they trusted Mexico to do that before we left- which they did. We filled out a form regarding where we had been, how we had felt and had our temp taken before boarding the plane in Queretero. On the 27th we flew back to Denver on a slightly fuller plane. I had a moment of panic on take-off as I had to move my seat. My seat belt was stuck so I had to sit next to a complete stranger for 15 minutes. I realized for the last 3 weeks I had basically only been that close to one other person, my traveling companion. Thankfully, the seat belt was freed and I got to return to my seat once we were in the air.<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">An incredibly empty Houston Intercontinental Airport</span></div>
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Once in Denver a decision was made to stay there. I made a quick trip to the cabin to get the cat and some warmer clothes and returned. Colorado had a Stay-at-Home order at that point and I was anxious about getting stopped. Fortunately the trip was uneventful and I have been here ever since. I am quite grateful to be in the city where there is food delivery. Door Dash! Uber Eats! Amazon Fresh! Things ordered actually show up within a couple of days. I did not want to be alone in the middle of nowhere with few resources, especially if I ended up getting sick.<br />
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And the job situation? I suspect you know how that goes. As I said, the timing was perfect. I am eligible for unemployment. Unable to search for a job, I am 100% enjoying the time off, although feeling a tiny bit guilty about how happy I am about it all. The government even deposited $1200 in my account... a welcome boost for the unemployed.<br />
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I'm hoping to use this Stay-at-Home time to be creative. I've been sewing (masks, working on a quilt) and done a bit of drawing. Without my computer I was unable to write which was totally driving me crazy. I sprung for a simple laptop so I could reconnect with my blog. More posts to come. And if this goes on much longer I'll be getting the jewelry making supplies here, also. Maybe I can even figure out a way to make money creating... wouldn't that be lovely?<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Incredibly messy mask making.</span></div>
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Everyone stay safe, wear your masks outside, wash your hands and enjoy the enforced break.<br />
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<br />Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-42926907626750481372019-12-14T06:30:00.000-06:002019-12-14T18:49:18.192-06:00No. 13: Thanksgiving at the Beach<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">No. 13: Thanksgiving at the Beach</span><br />
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<span style="color: magenta; font-size: medium;">Below is the post I wrote a week before Thanksgiving, scheduled to post on the Tuesday before Turkey Day. So much for making plans. </span><br />
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It's funny how things work out.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">When I put No. 13 on the list, I always assumed it would be Thanksgiving in Florida with Belle or maybe another Thanksgiving in Cozumel like we did as a family when the kids were little. I even considered Thanksgiving in Galveston. But that's about as far as my mind went when it came to beaches.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">And then someone new sees the list and says "Hey. I can help with Thanksgiving at the beach."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Which is how I'm ending up spending this Thanksgiving at the beach in Oregon!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">A totally new state for me.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Certainly a new beach.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">And with a lot of family, none of it my own.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">It's hard with three kids in three different states.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">The Big Guy doesn't really like to fly.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Bunny has to work the day after Thanksgiving.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Belle has already done Texas this month and has travel plans for December, so she isn't leaving Florida.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Where I live in Colorado is really hard to get to.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">So. Thanksgiving at the beach in Oregon.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Happy Thanksgiving to all and I will report back on No. 13.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">Instead, on the day that I was supposed to drive to Denver to meet my friend Diana for lunch before flying out on Monday, I woke up with a fever. And cramps. And ...ahem...intestinal distress. And when I stood up...I fell down. I now know the meaning of "<a href="https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/orthostatic-hypotension/symptoms-causes/syc-20352548">orthostatic</a>". It isn't much fun. Then my intestines decided that a good ol' bleed would get my attention.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">A quick call to my sweet neighbor and off I went to the ER while Carlos was whisked away to his pre-set date with the kennel. Texts to my travel companion and my lunch date were quick and to the point. "Change of plans...." </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">The rest of Sunday I pretty much slept. When I was awake I told anyone who would listen that I had a flight scheduled for Monday. They all shook their heads "no" . Lots of poking and prodding and IVs produced no answers, only the promise of an upper AND lower GI Scope for Monday morning. I didn't care- that's how drained I was. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">When I returned from my adventure in GI scoping on Monday, Diana was waiting in my room. Everyone needs a friend like that. No questions asked...just "I'm coming." She stayed with me all day, asking questions, listening, making sure we understood the doctors. Of course, they weren't saying anything beyond "You aren't getting on a plane. You could have any of these things. We really don't know what's up. You could bleed to death." I lost lots of blood apparently. (Sometimes ignorance is bliss because the numbers meant nothing to me but made my nurse co-workers raise their eyebrows when I told them my <a href="https://www.medicinenet.com/hemoglobin/article.htm">hemoglobin numbers</a>.)</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">By Monday afternoon my flight had been rescheduled for Wednesday, I was feeling much better and could almost stand up without falling over. Three out of three doctors still said "You aren't flying anywhere."</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">Never underestimate the power of a woman on a mission. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">Tuesday morning I felt even better, could totally stand upright on my own and still no one could give me an answer as to what went wrong. One doctor came in and said "<a href="https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/crohns-disease/symptoms-causes/syc-20353304">Crohn's Disease</a>, no question." but Diana and I dismissed him immediately. That didn't sound like a diagnosis I wanted. I was still getting on a plane Wednesday afternoon.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">By lunchtime the doctors were wavering. There was no reason to keep me. Their choice was to release me to my cabin in the woods where there was at least a foot of new snow on the ground, no food in the house (I was supposed to be gone for the week, remember?) and no one around except the cat, who does NOT know how to dial 911 ..OR... have Diana drive me to the airport, pour me onto the plane, have me picked up on the other end where I would be surrounded by people who would keep an eye on me and require me to do absolutely nothing. Guess who won!?</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">Oregon was lovely and sunny and the sunset on the West coast was amazing and the people were welcoming and I rested and ate and walked on the beach and worked jigsaw puzzles. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394;">This is how I spent the afternoon.</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394;">Drawing in front of the fireplace. </span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">Saturday night I got a call from the doctor. <a href="https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/ischemic-colitis/symptoms-causes/syc-20374001">Ischemic colitis</a>. Random, probably a one time thing. </span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">Sunday I flew home. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">I promise, I was VERY thankful. </span><br />
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<br />Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-18735718136919090062019-10-05T14:47:00.002-05:002019-10-05T14:47:27.265-05:00Mother Nature is a Beast or...<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">Pre-evacuation on a Saturday Morning.</span><br />
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About a month ago, September 8 to be exact, a small fire was started by lightning in the wilderness south and west of where I live and work. It was christened the Decker Fire. Since it was in the wilderness and the terrain was very inhospitable, the forest service let it burn which is their custom. There were no structures or people to worry about and forest fires are naturally occurring ways for dead underbrush to be cleared out. For a couple of weeks the fire stayed at about 1000 acres of wilderness.<br />
Then we had some unusual and strong October winds. The fire was still in the wilderness but getting close to the ridge of Methodist Mountain, a mountain right in Salida, with houses and businesses. No worries, fires only burn uphill. It won’t cross the ridge.<br />
These pics are from Wednesday when the fire<b> did </b>crest the ridge and start downhill. 130 residences were evacuated at 2am. Mother Nature is a beast and she doesn’t always follow the rules. Over night the fire doubled in size.<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">The view from the hospital parking lot outside my office on Wednesday. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">You can see the burning fires on the side of Methodist Mountain. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Fire can move downhill after all.</span></div>
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Friday at work I got a Pre-evacuation phone call from the county. I had signed up for that little service <a href="https://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/search?q=hayden+fire">last time there was a forest fire nearby</a>. Wait. What? I live way west of the fire. Or so I thought. </div>
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A neighborhood meeting at my local fire station after work was packed. Parking lot overflowing, people parked along the highway, standing room only packed. The gist of the meeting was that the edge of the fire is two miles from a "trigger point". If the fire reaches that line, all of Howard where I live will be evacuated as a precaution. The fire line is still in unreachable territory so there has not been much they can do to stop it. Instead they are trying to build breaks west of the fire that would halt spreading. But the officials probably aren't interested in another 2am evacuation fiasco so they are also being overly cautious. "Go home and make a plan. If you have livestock that needs to be transported, do it sooner rather than later." </div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">The map from last night's meeting.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">The distances seem so far yet....</span></div>
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The fire now covers 5,921 acres. Winds today are supposed to pick up as the day heats up. Humidity is low. Perfect fire conditions.</div>
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Interesting what becomes important when you walk around your house "making a plan". What's important? What do you really need? What do you save? </div>
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My divorce was a lesson in letting go. In 11 days I managed to empty a 3000 square foot house with a 3 car garage and condense the remains into an 8x10 storage unit. In the 2 years since I made that move there have been two things that I wish I had kept. One skirt, one blouse. No idea what happened to either one of them. Furniture went. Clothes went. Dishes, spices, tools, cleaning supplies, sports equipment- all given away. Pretty much what remained were the things that had sentimental value, the art and craft supplies, the kid stuff, my day to day necessities.</div>
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So Friday night was spent wandering the house, putting things in the car, finding the winter clothes, deciding which books have to come, which jewelry. I had already gotten my fireproof, waterproof bag of important papers out along with the cat kennel and pet food. A Rubbermaid tub has joined those essentials and in it goes....what? A silver pitcher. The kids' baby books. The good jewelry. The computer keyboard and mouse. Extra car and house keys. The sterling silverware and wine goblets are already in the car as is my father's large framed baby photo from when he was one. But really?</div>
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Not much I can't live without. </div>
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The house no longer holds my kids. My friends don't live here. The dog and cat will come with.</div>
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The girls are very practical, if not particularly ethical. I told them I was on alert and their responses? </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq8Jdf_cHOJSxGQ9ToGNqZaONtHPs7oFpwwLvk1mDvp4xbWaKw6oJLlsR3urI8Dsu_ACbLSkGLN7cHkEA7DyeEx5ZTqNu58o9Z4HJFpB4B49KSa0iEcMv5nprivIyU_Vg7fjMeGx4F5HB5/s1600/IMG_1783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="538" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq8Jdf_cHOJSxGQ9ToGNqZaONtHPs7oFpwwLvk1mDvp4xbWaKw6oJLlsR3urI8Dsu_ACbLSkGLN7cHkEA7DyeEx5ZTqNu58o9Z4HJFpB4B49KSa0iEcMv5nprivIyU_Vg7fjMeGx4F5HB5/s400/IMG_1783.jpg" width="336" /></a></div>
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I guess they don't realize I have already started a new life. But hey!</div>
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Maybe it's time to reimagine life again. </div>
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Mother Nature is a beast. </div>
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So am I. </div>
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Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-33381660721112953992019-10-04T06:00:00.000-05:002019-10-04T06:00:06.070-05:00No. 27 Jewelry making- refresh the silver soldering lessons.<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">No. 27- Refresh the silver soldering lessons.</span></span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">First. I'm back. At least for a post. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">I've had a summer. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">My job changed, then didn't change, then changed again literally 4 days before it was supposed to end. The whole mess was exhausting and after six months of uncertainty, it turns out nothing changed after all.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">And now I am on the cusp of Fall again in Colorado. It's been a lovely warm September but last night we had our first little cool front. Temps dropped at night and this morning I had my friend, the little yellow snowflake light, on my dashboard signaling a temperature below 38º.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">But before I got to this cool spot, I went on vacation! My first real vacation where I went where I wanted to and didn't just take care of kids or visit family or attend a wedding or shower.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Forty five years after starting college (so to speak) in Mexico, I returned to the scene of the crime with my two room mates for a reunion. Mind you this was the 45 year reunion of the START of our college careers as I don't think anyone ever finished school at the <a href="http://instituto-allende.edu.mx/">Instituto Allende</a> in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_Miguel_de_Allende">San Miguel de Allende.</a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeHNj8loCH95q6lcO51gnf5zqdZQbXjrtHt49AUPAnSvKxGuJHPoctgAZ4XI_6F-0FOOVLGG6Yk6Yv-OPhWcZzMH3wxx5aMh83VYKq6n0YjaiU6OEOBhqmYeANQOXKu7O5_Ktsl_ibBaoF/s1600/IMG_1761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="470" data-original-width="640" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeHNj8loCH95q6lcO51gnf5zqdZQbXjrtHt49AUPAnSvKxGuJHPoctgAZ4XI_6F-0FOOVLGG6Yk6Yv-OPhWcZzMH3wxx5aMh83VYKq6n0YjaiU6OEOBhqmYeANQOXKu7O5_Ktsl_ibBaoF/s640/IMG_1761.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Cathy (w/ Macho), Cherrilla (w/ Mugsy) and Me (w/ Mathilda and an </span></span><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">unfortunate hair do)</span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Cherrilla lives full time in San Miguel now, joining our friend Jay who wasn't a room mate but was a friend back then. Cathy lives in Virginia, I live here in Colorado but we rented a house in "el Centro de San Miguel" for the week to go visit. Cathy had not been back for 40+ years. For me it had been 7. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjdmIzbUAGUt4Sc7FuCqZSRx0KDdSCrtHp4J1Ppjp-rGFgGXIxe32-y6-nBz0rH-sZ1z68y1ZZe5hALGg2XXFAh1aeNaY2F58NeYXt7i1WiqXYbqv0oGdP63aI3Yhsr-pIVf_DRuDK3kj/s1600/IMG_0349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="352" data-original-width="640" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdjdmIzbUAGUt4Sc7FuCqZSRx0KDdSCrtHp4J1Ppjp-rGFgGXIxe32-y6-nBz0rH-sZ1z68y1ZZe5hALGg2XXFAh1aeNaY2F58NeYXt7i1WiqXYbqv0oGdP63aI3Yhsr-pIVf_DRuDK3kj/s640/IMG_0349.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">We didn't get the order the same but at least we got a pic of the 3 of us.</span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Cherrilla, Cathy, Me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">No pets. </span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Our little house had been rented through <a href="https://www.airbnb.com/s/San-Miguel-de-Allende--Mexico/homes?source=mc_search_bar&click_referer=t%3ASEE_ALL%7Csid%3Aea90f788-e16c-4aca-b3e1-d9626b19c4be%7Cst%3ALANDING_PAGE_MARQUEE&screen_size=large&checkin=2020-01-15&checkout=2020-01-20&adults=2&min_bedrooms=2&min_bathrooms=1&refinement_paths%5B%5D=%2Fhomes&query=San%20Miguel%20de%20Allende%2C%20Mexico&place_id=ChIJD7xxmK9RK4QRpLAHHQMBMWU&search_type=autocomplete_click">Air BnB</a> and it was perfect. Great location with 3 floors and 2 bedrooms and a balcony overlooking the <a href="http://davidlansing.com/the-story-of-la-parroquia/">Parroquia</a>. The bathroom had a bathtub big enough to swim in which is basically heaven for me.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gFGIz0DcX_ZxxVXWnDf6hqOELSE9Ldo2JSvsu8CPJpaDpBiGTfGoxdLo5vUiIrFfLRHBHFgrEbRLNaZp4Eb-x_wa0kFArgmh8xodhKetjzjAmIW6QAVaQa4l1YEebQjUvezMS2G23Cl_/s1600/IMG_0063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5gFGIz0DcX_ZxxVXWnDf6hqOELSE9Ldo2JSvsu8CPJpaDpBiGTfGoxdLo5vUiIrFfLRHBHFgrEbRLNaZp4Eb-x_wa0kFArgmh8xodhKetjzjAmIW6QAVaQa4l1YEebQjUvezMS2G23Cl_/s640/IMG_0063.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Our first morning Cathy woke up early and snapped this amazing pic from our balcony. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">That's the Parroquia glowing on the right. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">I slept through the sunrise. </span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">And...while Cathy was flipping through Air BnB offerings, she discovered classes. She sent the link to me and it took me about 5 seconds to find the <a href="https://www.airbnb.com/experiences/616234?checkin=2019-10-09&adults=2&source=p2">silver working class.</a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisRDxIJaxT3iC6jz_7vnolzxyGOuIblYwgMtj8RW3n1xaB0t3xNwHblKRXOfrtGzlesxO4V4lgNaLgmntJhl8AThvNy-8tnboxQ3dpbDhyVFh_slB7MY-RYCM3kUhbgPjUxPf-SCOiiIwh/s1600/IMG_0265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisRDxIJaxT3iC6jz_7vnolzxyGOuIblYwgMtj8RW3n1xaB0t3xNwHblKRXOfrtGzlesxO4V4lgNaLgmntJhl8AThvNy-8tnboxQ3dpbDhyVFh_slB7MY-RYCM3kUhbgPjUxPf-SCOiiIwh/s640/IMG_0265.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">The more things change, the more they stay the same. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Forty five years later we are still learning.</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">So...45 years to the month from the first time Cathy and I took silver working classes together, we returned to class. Our teacher this time was American, the class was only four hours and we learned the one thing I have been begging people to teach me: <a href="https://www.airbnb.com/experiences/616234?checkin=2019-10-09&adults=2&source=p2">the basics of silver soldering</a>. I knew most of it but did not really want to practice on sterling </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">silver without some guidelines. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Enter our teacher, Nicole Williams, who made the class basic and fun and most importantly, gave me the confidence that yes, I can do this at home. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCe_OiJqeH03PN7tRx1g8oTaMcc5eiA3aAPRPvLXV9Rlzf7_bu4eQJBYIvoDDJsj2j0Uju0z5ZDLPwX1rNSmrsXNBtiLQ6iqCJB_aXtqS8S2mpdSuOu4nN5-Phc42DxZUqWARjOYBdXPo7/s1600/IMG_0282.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCe_OiJqeH03PN7tRx1g8oTaMcc5eiA3aAPRPvLXV9Rlzf7_bu4eQJBYIvoDDJsj2j0Uju0z5ZDLPwX1rNSmrsXNBtiLQ6iqCJB_aXtqS8S2mpdSuOu4nN5-Phc42DxZUqWARjOYBdXPo7/s640/IMG_0282.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394;">Nicole explains the finer points of ring design.</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">We made simple wire rings- a set of 5 that stacked. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhomQqmjGG5t7SwIvtbE8_C0QGnk7gUbqltBQPGiMe5xgMvPrKX9VLhQyl-UkjTYBMNTGCA8YB3n23NxwB2z5O0wDMAPn1dux3Ro1p_SvX_nvuTKVrAZ3ix5f9aswHDoOsqGpDYNrUkUWsM/s1600/IMG_0272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhomQqmjGG5t7SwIvtbE8_C0QGnk7gUbqltBQPGiMe5xgMvPrKX9VLhQyl-UkjTYBMNTGCA8YB3n23NxwB2z5O0wDMAPn1dux3Ro1p_SvX_nvuTKVrAZ3ix5f9aswHDoOsqGpDYNrUkUWsM/s640/IMG_0272.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Cutting up the solder...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggwGbgf925TEC1NcMSGS6BBGP1Ulfscxzcuzs9Xg-JjS-EodYRkxodOd8UyLUdUpzYxBBe3jZ3x6qf6RRdYzolni6hEjG_qND7YZSjboi7JyC_DglfjCho0MdiTAEtXVQMrdRviM5fAkUw/s1600/IMG_0277.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggwGbgf925TEC1NcMSGS6BBGP1Ulfscxzcuzs9Xg-JjS-EodYRkxodOd8UyLUdUpzYxBBe3jZ3x6qf6RRdYzolni6hEjG_qND7YZSjboi7JyC_DglfjCho0MdiTAEtXVQMrdRviM5fAkUw/s640/IMG_0277.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Cathy places the solder carefully on her rings. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Can you believe I was allowed to use a propane torch? </span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Since we were so efficient and finished early, she taught us a couple of other tricks like twisting the wire to make a chain effect and doing a "spaghetti wire" ring where the wire was wrapped and soldered together. Let's just say we learned a technique and will hopefully be able to improve our skills with the more advanced efforts. Our wire stacking rings were a huge success, though. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMcDTfGFrtCVLoJ3KuJS7OJZadps2MIN1bZ3OmwVn-0D9PmdjixFL8x4hyAWntM5ryT77mLIraUXoJ-GGQnYz5hHgrYAsZNFGxdiyuIxEtRPag3XnvesfzmNefrpoQH4BEt-UqhA9BFiwH/s1600/IMG_0287.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMcDTfGFrtCVLoJ3KuJS7OJZadps2MIN1bZ3OmwVn-0D9PmdjixFL8x4hyAWntM5ryT77mLIraUXoJ-GGQnYz5hHgrYAsZNFGxdiyuIxEtRPag3XnvesfzmNefrpoQH4BEt-UqhA9BFiwH/s640/IMG_0287.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Struggling to wrap the wire for my "spaghetti ring".</span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">So. No. 27 is complete. Maybe I will finish the other challenges before I turn 70. Maybe not. But certainly I am thrilled to have completed this one. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Now. All I need are supplies. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-33355850450227067862019-07-18T06:00:00.000-05:002019-10-03T22:05:43.484-05:00Summer time and the living is....easy??<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">Summer time and the living is ...not so easy?</span><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
O goodness. This has been a year. A long, sometimes hard year with lots of ups and downs.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-Sq2NGORtwD7qO4EuB11FjK9upbfBFhbwQQN9fCLHsCvcL70XPccYHqDD8iaivuxWrRg69EZYIEXJXUsKASMs2GfmbbyUx982dpC6duGxbJWntOsKeYwgcAaqed35k0aA_Cv-uAT1ocd/s1600/IMG_3174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-Sq2NGORtwD7qO4EuB11FjK9upbfBFhbwQQN9fCLHsCvcL70XPccYHqDD8iaivuxWrRg69EZYIEXJXUsKASMs2GfmbbyUx982dpC6duGxbJWntOsKeYwgcAaqed35k0aA_Cv-uAT1ocd/s640/IMG_3174.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">This morning Carlos and I walked the road across the river. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">So many gorgeous views. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Walking combats stress. </span></div>
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Work has been a bear.<br />
In the last 11 months I have worked for the hospital while being leased to the cardio clinic, worked directly for the cardio clinic, been told in April that the hospital wanted our group back as employees- with lower pay and more responsibilities-made the decision to not work for the hospital again (understandable, I think), found another job at a bank and then been told that, nope, the cardio clinic is not giving us up after all and nothing is changing in my employment except location. So from April until July I have been jerked around employment-wise even though there has never been an issue with the quality of my work. Honestly just writing this paragraph exhausted me and made me stress a bit.<br />
I hope to happily continue checking in patients at the cardiology clinic wherever that may be. Our location is definitely changing and may actually be a little fluid for a couple of months depending on the whims of the powers that be. The new office mantra is "Be flexible". If I get any more flexible I will be able to join Cirque de Soleil. Ultimately I am thrilled with the final outcome. Assuming it really is the final outcome. I think it is. I hope.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYKQTVa0p_V-zUodeftn6uiBReBVeqOrvCqdzwNvbGwKQu6iof9KCkf1MpYyS_VKYr_qIdV6P2TjON7r2QH8q-yBFNb-mTyJkV24ECIvkr6f7ZKQXTQXOqlYiqaKqqNKD-0yXx1Lpik8F/s1600/IMG_3180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYKQTVa0p_V-zUodeftn6uiBReBVeqOrvCqdzwNvbGwKQu6iof9KCkf1MpYyS_VKYr_qIdV6P2TjON7r2QH8q-yBFNb-mTyJkV24ECIvkr6f7ZKQXTQXOqlYiqaKqqNKD-0yXx1Lpik8F/s640/IMG_3180.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: white;">With so much rain, even all the cacti are blooming. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148);">Walking combats stress.</span></span></div>
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Winter was hard and lasted until June. So. Much. Snow. Then rain. June was wet and chilly and I was still using my pellet stove until mid June. All that snow made everything green. The weed whacker has been getting weekly usage and I've made absolutely NO headway with the grass. I manage to keep the front "yard' under control and Carlos's fenced area clear...the rest of it has gone wild. Apparently the rattlesnakes are also happy to have summer here finally and are out in full force. Carlos just got his first rattlesnake vaccination from the most patient vet in the entire world. He goes back in three weeks for his booster.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaaglPqSgPbgGAEVlZ__mRtxmu1FF-uLixii0nHn2rMD_fVBS0x9pO8I3Z6ZtoNyTWwI0IpE5vzGjza8PCvcZcq4repRuUqmQwLF0rqpKZPiy0I9yAFiB3ZZU73xTxRbcT9jpJLFDCidRo/s1600/IMG_3701.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaaglPqSgPbgGAEVlZ__mRtxmu1FF-uLixii0nHn2rMD_fVBS0x9pO8I3Z6ZtoNyTWwI0IpE5vzGjza8PCvcZcq4repRuUqmQwLF0rqpKZPiy0I9yAFiB3ZZU73xTxRbcT9jpJLFDCidRo/s640/IMG_3701.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Lots of wildflowers are out, as are the little white butterflies. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">And the rattlesnakes...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">(walking combats stress)</span></div>
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We have been walking daily. Crazy neighbor is convinced Carlos is running in a pack. I'm actually worried about the pack of dogs on the next road getting Carlos so he has been kept close. I left town one weekend to come home to a card from the Sheriff saying I was going to be fined if Carlos was out loose again. Only problem: Carlos was at the kennel in Salida when he was reported running loose here in Howard. I tried discussing this with the neighbor but somehow ended up calling him a f***ing idiot and he has vowed to shoot Carlos if he ever sets foot out of the yard. So...walks.<br />
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Which is how we ended up taking off one wet evening, moments after the rain stopped, and coming up on a mountain lion. Honestly I never dreamed I would see one while walking. Bears maybe but a cougar? Never. But we did. He walked out of the woods into the road about 100 feet in front of us. Carlos was sniffing something on the ground thankfully and never saw the cat. Kitty looked at me, I looked at him. He turned back into the woods and I slowly, slowly backed back down the road. I was enthralled and excited, not scared, but only because I got to see him and he was not the slightest bit concerned with eating me. Thankfully.<br />
(And. He was gorgeous. Or she. Whatever. A young adult cougar, sleek and probably 2 to 3 times the size of Carlos.)<br />
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Made an airline ticket to go to Mexico and within hours of that big purchase discovered the oven had died with the last round of power surges/outages. So this weekend I ordered a new range and fridge (both are almost 20 years ago- it seemed prudent to just go for the gusto). Mexico is still on the calendar and I cannot wait. In September, 45 years after starting school at the Instituto Allende in San Miguel de Allende, I will be returning with one of my old roommates to visit our other roommate who has just moved there for good. A fourth classmate also lives there and it will be a grand reunion. I am soooo excited. Broke, but excited.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenJQCd_dxmYfLLthcP9KtUZA_Qlse83COb_1_zp6EbA9DAFxrTM7j6tta7MB7kl57zbRMG3zIsLWV9MmyEV-ryePGgsG1lZCILN-OZonI1xW1eSFAagQouBiJRDNZ_jY256JjlSiCGb0V/s1600/IMG_1387.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="640" height="560" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenJQCd_dxmYfLLthcP9KtUZA_Qlse83COb_1_zp6EbA9DAFxrTM7j6tta7MB7kl57zbRMG3zIsLWV9MmyEV-ryePGgsG1lZCILN-OZonI1xW1eSFAagQouBiJRDNZ_jY256JjlSiCGb0V/s640/IMG_1387.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Cherrilla and Cathy</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Blurry because...well, 45 years ago.</span></div>
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I've tried online dating. I'm still alive after meeting a stranger (my co workers were definitely requiring check ins) so I consider that a success. Don't know why people say online dating is a nightmare.<br />
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Soooooo. No new challenges although I've tried some new things. Lots of new restaurants. Finally developed a taste for salmon after a gazillion tries.<br />
Went to a burlesque show! Had no idea you could do so many things with tassels.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnd3Qr7d9XLoVuVLiNncOcTmJsTZKExl_2n1x7-ocLQL2XtiFpCEKeaHniPtGxAdgx3oTBKxLLpFgGe9HP0MFC68kOwZy3KiIuWm1ttjHKXI9YQh279bS7TqIQQlkJeqbhH9HKPDc3gc32/s1600/IMG_3140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnd3Qr7d9XLoVuVLiNncOcTmJsTZKExl_2n1x7-ocLQL2XtiFpCEKeaHniPtGxAdgx3oTBKxLLpFgGe9HP0MFC68kOwZy3KiIuWm1ttjHKXI9YQh279bS7TqIQQlkJeqbhH9HKPDc3gc32/s640/IMG_3140.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">The crew from <a href="http://www.peaksandpasties.com/">Peaks and Pasties </a>in Colorado Springs. </span></div>
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Lots of gardening has been undertaken with mixed results. The peony that came with the cabin 10 years ago finally bloomed for the first time. THAT is a success.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIwq_sVL1JBgpKAUzE6EMxSp7wCsXp7n75tqJ7q85gUzwZEKVmQIq0D-fn-dXwie2M34DgpgShYXPLlnYMzOaUUtT04DsWc3FAYbZ-PK6RrLXQ1xmYdZYhRWIpt4VD8CzCoOQmmeWw5oSS/s1600/7089EB32-F856-4F7F-8EB1-29EE743F869F.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIwq_sVL1JBgpKAUzE6EMxSp7wCsXp7n75tqJ7q85gUzwZEKVmQIq0D-fn-dXwie2M34DgpgShYXPLlnYMzOaUUtT04DsWc3FAYbZ-PK6RrLXQ1xmYdZYhRWIpt4VD8CzCoOQmmeWw5oSS/s640/7089EB32-F856-4F7F-8EB1-29EE743F869F.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Never knew what color these peonies were. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Happy to see they are pink!</span></div>
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The tables in the front yard are getting tiled. I find that figuring out the tile patterns is as engrossing as quilting used to be for me. I no longer have the patience, desire, something to quilt like I used to. I've tried a bit. But the tiling satisfies that need to create. Plus side: It's an excuse to get dirty. More pictures will be forthcoming once the blue table is done.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5XxWXxLeo20Wg9GsHPl9Tx71d9vozGSZ1Xhcm0yEf6o7cSrbUW7cpUO4ll7sOKOmRBYaujy-joyNLDDRs2r2y__VmGeBmeK5av_5ESs3XRZgwAWCjAJQsFT1BZo7DfqFpneJZn8xxn_2/s1600/IMG_1319.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5XxWXxLeo20Wg9GsHPl9Tx71d9vozGSZ1Xhcm0yEf6o7cSrbUW7cpUO4ll7sOKOmRBYaujy-joyNLDDRs2r2y__VmGeBmeK5av_5ESs3XRZgwAWCjAJQsFT1BZo7DfqFpneJZn8xxn_2/s640/IMG_1319.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">This is the second time this little table has been done. I leave it outside and it gets frost-heave.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">But. I'm too lazy to bring it in over the winter. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">So this won't be the last time....</span></div>
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Hope everyone is having a fabulous summer. Stay safe. The Arkansas River that I follow to work and back every day just claimed the 12th freshwater recreation victim of the summer here in Colorado. This can be a dangerous place.<br />
(See above. Snakes. Power surges. Mountain lions. Online dating.)<br />
(Walking combats stress.)Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-66862817818808762352019-06-14T06:30:00.000-05:002019-06-15T08:13:24.673-05:00People More Amazing than Me or You (well, for sure more so than me....)<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">People more Amazing than Me or You...</span><br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"> (Yes, that should be You and I....)</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Ok. You are amazing. So am I in many ways.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">BUT...</span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Today I witnessed really amazing. </span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">It is the first day of <a href="http://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2014/06/fibark-its-party.html">FIBArk </a>in Salida. I've written about it before...First in Boating on the Arkansas. </span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">A four day festival that started back in 1949 with a 57 mile boat race from Salida to Canon City, through the Royal Gorge. Since the first competitors almost died on that race, they shortened the route to almost 26 miles. There are boat races, kayaking races, and foot races.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Today was the Tenderfoot Hill Climb, the kick off event to FIBArk. It starts at the stoplight at F Street and First Street in Salida and goes straight up S Mountain/Tenderfoot Hill. Contestants run up to the Gazebo at the top and then slip slide back down- it's an elevation gain of about 1000 feet. O! And these runners are starting at about a 6500 foot elevation. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizfhaAP2aN5OgXl5DrJDmdqyvCdrapfUhgmm-iOo9EOwu1gApLqR40AY-Gsf8UO5oy_JkFvXiRCMEuZ0UXxMqdkH36E91kHkKgig3AoSlimBS0cBr99-jihqkckTREYhu_zyCSoB8QS4BL/s1600/IMG_3121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizfhaAP2aN5OgXl5DrJDmdqyvCdrapfUhgmm-iOo9EOwu1gApLqR40AY-Gsf8UO5oy_JkFvXiRCMEuZ0UXxMqdkH36E91kHkKgig3AoSlimBS0cBr99-jihqkckTREYhu_zyCSoB8QS4BL/s640/IMG_3121.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">See those tiny dots in the ravines on each side? And the few dots going up the center? </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Those are people. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Running. </span></span></div>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">This year's winner clocked in at almost 12 minutes for the round trip run. Contestants range from about 4 or 5 up to their seventies. Parents run with kids. Little kids run on their own. Families run together. Some people run in costumes. I'm not sure I could even walk up that hill, much less run.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGsjVYniXuEfyQO5oKXkcN9rYA_5-S1N7dZKeZ5ADLlRhNjXOVouV2lMyNrMWR8kuosebu-I2owtkgh_Nq4N5d-Q5Q0IPZGFUYAWzKFHcOAQilzLWeTKdDGUdk6Z-CN9_W9eRXXjpGxhHo/s1600/IMG_3123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGsjVYniXuEfyQO5oKXkcN9rYA_5-S1N7dZKeZ5ADLlRhNjXOVouV2lMyNrMWR8kuosebu-I2owtkgh_Nq4N5d-Q5Q0IPZGFUYAWzKFHcOAQilzLWeTKdDGUdk6Z-CN9_W9eRXXjpGxhHo/s640/IMG_3123.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">The winner. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Smiling and high-fiving everyone.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Camden Gills ran the hill -up and back down - in</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">11 minutes, 46 seconds. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">One contestant ran in a leg brace. And finished. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Another one ran with forearm crutches. He ran a good race, coming in with the middle of the pack. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtf7L5F5ap7PVtnb-PLKyaFi9MNKuSL7C08Ikl-EnvN_VULq_GtIp23avDgaBKYQa84OtHrTaSHpg-lAOwkMM0FtLJnYrPlCR4HPuF0iQ4eCgDXF0XT6XPyIJw7uJlK5Rq0JlMfTs9tUtr/s1600/IMG_3127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtf7L5F5ap7PVtnb-PLKyaFi9MNKuSL7C08Ikl-EnvN_VULq_GtIp23avDgaBKYQa84OtHrTaSHpg-lAOwkMM0FtLJnYrPlCR4HPuF0iQ4eCgDXF0XT6XPyIJw7uJlK5Rq0JlMfTs9tUtr/s640/IMG_3127.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Third place (Maybe second?) ran in a cheetah print thong leotard. I was concerned the family jewels were going to be on display by the end of the race...but no. Maybe those bare legs and buns enabled him to move faster.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji-fanhapcyxe69CSqtDqn_0d7Fi8W698ZU7oN6M3L1fqf1PO2tPRNva89CICuo4_tFLGegBGwXXEx1xWYwfXBBDsxNPX3FA8NrjJakulI6-MJk_qJNrG2DRyn_098WUauIvwoxXJNwGHz/s1600/IMG_3125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji-fanhapcyxe69CSqtDqn_0d7Fi8W698ZU7oN6M3L1fqf1PO2tPRNva89CICuo4_tFLGegBGwXXEx1xWYwfXBBDsxNPX3FA8NrjJakulI6-MJk_qJNrG2DRyn_098WUauIvwoxXJNwGHz/s640/IMG_3125.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">What can I say? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">He was one of the top three....</span></div>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">A nurse I work with ran in a tutu. And was still smiling as she came back across the finish line.</span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">I watched. </span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">I am just in awe. I did a 5k Walk once. It was one of my challenges. And it was hardly a challenge. </span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Maybe next year I could try the Tenderfoot Climb. </span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Ha!</span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">And....</span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">if these runners weren't enough to amaze you, let me tell you about one of my patient's today.</span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">At 85 he has run marathons in all but 4 states. He will do Tennessee in September, right before his 86th birthday. He has a bad knee and foot drop but is determined to complete all of the states. </span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Wow.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-20668960520808285562019-05-07T09:00:00.000-05:002019-05-07T09:00:06.185-05:00Inspiration<br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">Inspiration. Or... a kick in the pants.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
"Do you create?"<br />
<br />
Maybe those weren't the exact words. Maybe it was "Do you still create?" or "Do you ever create?"<br />
<br />
But they have haunted me since they were said to me a few weeks ago.<br />
Because the realization is...no...not really. I haven't had the time or the drive to <a href="https://www.blogger.com/sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/No.%2017:%20Uggs,%20Tomatoes%20and%20Ruby">create</a>.<br />
<br />
And that makes me very sad.<br />
<br />
The winter was hard and cold and snowy and maybe that sapped my creativity. My work has been chaotic and full of change and yet more change is coming. As in...I won't have a job after June 30th.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQH9tI7idwIXVwa2Q0Luxa_7FhqRWOmMONtmagjj6vhLzm3T2BH0e5CZR4xIMAPXdRQhLbQVP_iLNoErm91a3dk3G-1PnvjjweVvMWIenoq8iFG8eKzofo9GBQTZn8QykCbn57DgBHc7Yg/s1600/DSC_0595.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1075" data-original-width="1600" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQH9tI7idwIXVwa2Q0Luxa_7FhqRWOmMONtmagjj6vhLzm3T2BH0e5CZR4xIMAPXdRQhLbQVP_iLNoErm91a3dk3G-1PnvjjweVvMWIenoq8iFG8eKzofo9GBQTZn8QykCbn57DgBHc7Yg/s640/DSC_0595.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">So much snow this winter. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div>
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I should be panicked. I mean, I do have bills to pay and tummies to fill and one very reckless daughter's car insurance to pay. Instead I am angry. And I'm not sure what I am going to do.<br />
<br />
I think I need to recharge. <a href="http://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2013/04/no-52-museum-of-fine-arts-houston-spend.html">Look at some art.</a> Experience something new. Maybe take a trip. Not rush.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirzIx2l5RMCPlchs5Y8Kq96OrYjfxzjlvPg7b5K7cUoFDbQ9RkVCHEjr_fzKpJYkrXwBQYdfZGFzXTqXu4jBzY7QpT1keWrS-j8KBFHfMYUrlO0vL2RpTowKgAGLW2KbzZFcu9JNYxf32V/s1600/Picasso-Seated-Woman-Jacqueline.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="233" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirzIx2l5RMCPlchs5Y8Kq96OrYjfxzjlvPg7b5K7cUoFDbQ9RkVCHEjr_fzKpJYkrXwBQYdfZGFzXTqXu4jBzY7QpT1keWrS-j8KBFHfMYUrlO0vL2RpTowKgAGLW2KbzZFcu9JNYxf32V/s640/Picasso-Seated-Woman-Jacqueline.jpg" width="497" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Picasso: Seated Woman. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">From No. 52: Spend the day at the Museum</span></div>
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<br />
And maybe the words will come back to me.<br />
<br />
When I first started this blog, I had to create. The posts wrote themselves. They <i><b>insisted</b></i> on being written. All I had to do was sit down and tap the keyboard and Voila! words making sentences making a story. I revelled in <a href="http://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/">completing the challenges,</a> finding new things to share, experiencing life.<br />
<br />
Recently though, my mind has been consumed mostly by work.<br />
<br />
But. I LOVE my job, I say. I love the people I work with, I love the patients. I love my window next to my tiny desk.<br />
<br />
Then I had a premonition. My life was due for a correction. Things were going too well. Just like when the stock market gets too high, too rowdy and things crash a bit.<br />
<br />
Amazing how intuitive we can be if we listen.<br />
<br />
I ran over my prescription glasses with the car. The kitchen sink drains both started leaking. The roof seems to be molting with every gust of wind. There's a funky smell coming from the basement.<br />
<br />
And my employment is ending. No fault of my own. The office as I know it will just cease to exist.<br />
So maybe this is just a kick in the pants. A reminder that a complacent mind loses its creativity.<br />
<br />
Because I want the answer to that question at the very top to be "Yes. All the time."<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-8309011947034129432019-02-14T05:00:00.000-06:002019-02-14T05:00:10.983-06:00Happy....<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!</span><br />
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<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
Hugs and kisses and cookies to all. Here's hoping your VD is outstanding.<br />
<br />
Cookies for work....my co-workers are my Valentines this year. The people at the hospital are amazing. They deserve all the love they can get.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9sfCWVmWsgMcpZ_eHCzOfFDUkYJ6aj__KhhDjyYqrw_otwIcPxQwrlkS-bf07JxLdUN5X3tVcCT7eNcJDnEczepI3MVsLRp7W0IUwpwapG91mO4PCN_KwKDDGuxymYgcxcNgrBQ2Rhvb/s1600/IMG_1102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn9sfCWVmWsgMcpZ_eHCzOfFDUkYJ6aj__KhhDjyYqrw_otwIcPxQwrlkS-bf07JxLdUN5X3tVcCT7eNcJDnEczepI3MVsLRp7W0IUwpwapG91mO4PCN_KwKDDGuxymYgcxcNgrBQ2Rhvb/s640/IMG_1102.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Lots of hearts and loving hands. The hand cookie cutter was made from an outline of Bunny's hand when she was 3 ½ months old. It's the perfect cookie size. High altitude sugar cookie recipe and royal icing. A tray of sugar and love. The kitchen is covered in sugar. (So am I.)<br />
Hugs to all. Love you.Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-85075492509277696982019-01-28T06:00:00.000-06:002019-01-28T10:27:33.436-06:00How? <span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">HOW did you meet? </span><br />
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<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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This has been on my mind recently. I have been collecting stories of how couples met. The good, the bad, the spectacular. And there are some spectacular ones.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxi2jub7hb_g6B24ZlSduXO4a-v4PBL5XyVkNKq8AanHx9SWHySf1yEu2muOjp0qm7py6IiNWhvtKZJtjVE-QFoguDw5pyFmICty5RcvK26_KcKhZTTBc2UbaxtDvgS9jxQpsv9wBv-D5l/s1600/Wededing+kiss+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1117" data-original-width="1600" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxi2jub7hb_g6B24ZlSduXO4a-v4PBL5XyVkNKq8AanHx9SWHySf1yEu2muOjp0qm7py6IiNWhvtKZJtjVE-QFoguDw5pyFmICty5RcvK26_KcKhZTTBc2UbaxtDvgS9jxQpsv9wBv-D5l/s640/Wededing+kiss+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">My adorable parents. On their wedding day.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">They were married 67 years. </span></div>
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At work there is a couple that is SO perfect for each other. They are SO in love. She drives him to work, they have lunch together, hold hands, check in through out the day. One of my coworkers looked at me one day and said "Isn't it wonderful they found each other?" And it is. </div>
<div>
They had their anniversary recently, their 22nd. She was all dressed up, picking him up from work for a celebratory dinner. Truthfully I would have believed her more if she had said they had just wed- the two seem so infatuated. And she confessed they didn't even get married until she was 45. And he was her first marriage. </div>
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I didn't get a chance to ask how they met, but I assure you I will. It must be great story. </div>
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<div>
And so, in honor of February which is right around the corner, complete with hearts and flowers and pink and love and VALENTINE'S DAY, I'm curious. </div>
<div>
How did you meet your significant other? Or your one true love? </div>
<div>
(I'm old enough to know that those two are not mutually exclusive.) </div>
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Or what's the best "meet" story you've got?</div>
<div>
Was it chance? Online? Mutual friends? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Let me know. The best stories may make the blog. Or maybe the worst will. Names will be changed to protect the innocent if that is what you wish. Or maybe I will just entertain myself with stories of love. Nothing will happen without your permission. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Either comment below or send me an email:</div>
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<a href="mailto:sixtyxsixty@gmail.com">sixtyxsixty@gmail.com</a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
I want to know. </div>
Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-6510885890882171652019-01-15T05:00:00.000-06:002019-01-15T05:00:13.195-06:00Life's a Challenge<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">Life's a Challenge...</span><br />
<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
and I don't mean that in a bad way, at all. But I have been thinking about how I haven't done ANY of my Sixty by Sixty challenges in ages. <a href="http://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/p/the-60-x-60-list.html">The List</a> remains incomplete and unused.<br />
<br />
BUT. I have challenged myself a couple of different ways recently. So maybe my challenges are just going to be more internal for a bit rather than activities or places.<br />
<br />
My most significant challenge has been asking for, bargaining for and finally getting a much needed pay increase. It's taken a few months and means I will have to change employers (although not actual jobs which is confusing but that's the way it is...) but it also means that not only am I getting a pay increase, but so are the two nurses that I work with. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqhJkDv3w4ELgyt3ldV0ZzxY9AIpK3c6a_5gr9hA_oUGTQ865x36nMdFsJIYeqRcLcSuTTVGLMxkYwr8b2FIcTfwEzo6lgacc1VeJcXJJYPatEz4HjYamyjhnKibWXLKYJjfTohYPXdC8G/s1600/IMG_2856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqhJkDv3w4ELgyt3ldV0ZzxY9AIpK3c6a_5gr9hA_oUGTQ865x36nMdFsJIYeqRcLcSuTTVGLMxkYwr8b2FIcTfwEzo6lgacc1VeJcXJJYPatEz4HjYamyjhnKibWXLKYJjfTohYPXdC8G/s640/IMG_2856.JPG" width="358" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;">The view out my work window.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">A good reason to love my job.</span></div>
<br />
I realized at my yearly review that I better be happy with the standard 3% increase as no one was going to say "Great job! We need to give you 20% more than you are already making."<br />
At least not unless I asked. <br />
And I was NOT happy with 3%. I work my tail off, I'm a great employee and I have gone above and beyond this past year. So I said, no, don't think so, I need more and outlined why in an email. A lot of back and forth but finally they came up with an agreeable amount.<br />
Lessons learned? <br />
Know your value.<br />
And the one I always tell the kids: If you don't ask, the answer is always "no".<br />
<br />
<br />
The other thing that I have had to challenge myself with is driving in the snow. I mentioned in the <a href="http://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2018/12/embracing-winter.html">last post </a>how Colorado was kind to me last year. Not so this year. There have been a few good snows, some ice and tons of cold weather. Over New Year's Eve I drove to Denver to stay with my friend Diana. It snowed all day on New Year's Eve, with about 2 or 3 inches accumulating in Denver. BUT! At the cabin the inches of snow were piling up. Fifteen of them at least.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgetGHu8DyYQK5lLWzC2UhLkDUdLfdT3RkYK8BmkOt93dPkDk13OSjFwXo_JTVwXUctFhTsMhCBfpe15VZq71zs7G2EwnlB71Y29UB0ud3E2grKzgcyu20dtpLV2GEavRznPLem8sL9h45B/s1600/56799322230__F2523AE4-E49E-412C-A7C2-E875BFBCC556.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgetGHu8DyYQK5lLWzC2UhLkDUdLfdT3RkYK8BmkOt93dPkDk13OSjFwXo_JTVwXUctFhTsMhCBfpe15VZq71zs7G2EwnlB71Y29UB0ud3E2grKzgcyu20dtpLV2GEavRznPLem8sL9h45B/s640/56799322230__F2523AE4-E49E-412C-A7C2-E875BFBCC556.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Snow from Diana's deck in Denver. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">An inch or so....manageable.</span></div>
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On New Year's Day I had to make the decision... drive home through the passes or through the canyon? Two ways to get from Point A to Point B and I had to weigh the pros and cons of each. I've had scary drives going both ways. Drives that involved cars going off the road, cars going into the river, cars going into the mountains. Part of me wanted to just say "Eh, I'll wait and drive back to the cabin on Wednesday when the snow has melted." But my time off is limited and I needed to be brave. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcv8u4a3x30G-VQqT2HPPYqpHE5sU0J-5TdwfnSobN7KIDYQbA-TiyNVPg1Ceh7LaGNSjrAa7HveRAyRmanCxG9jZus-jtUDydqim1KjDslrhhnwoGkTVYvMq5BnQX8oUoLPi_ItQapJjw/s1600/IMG_1010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcv8u4a3x30G-VQqT2HPPYqpHE5sU0J-5TdwfnSobN7KIDYQbA-TiyNVPg1Ceh7LaGNSjrAa7HveRAyRmanCxG9jZus-jtUDydqim1KjDslrhhnwoGkTVYvMq5BnQX8oUoLPi_ItQapJjw/s640/IMG_1010.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Snow at the cabin.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Deep.</span></div>
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The mountain pass won and guess what? It was a piece of cake. The anticipation of the drive was WAY worse than the reality. Roads were clear, snow packed in a few places, but the most dangerous part of the trip was pulling out of the Stop and Rob after getting gas. By the time I arrived home there were close to 18 inches of snow on the ground but my driveway had been cleared by the neighbor. <br />
Lesson learned?<br />
Like Nike™ says "Just do it." <br />
<br />
Food. Salmon and brussel sprouts to be exact. Both über popular and neither my faves. I have tried salmon many many times in an effort to acquire a taste for it, but nope.<br />
It's ubiquitous.<br />
People like to make it for meals. It's good for you. Ugh. I just couldn't. But like a good girl, I've kept trying.<br />
<br />
Finally, at my favorite restaurant in town, I tasted my companion's maple glazed salmon and then tasted again. And again. Surprise! It tasted good. Have my taste buds changed? Not sure. Have not had the opportunity to try salmon again but I'm willing to give it a go. <br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">An acquired taste, I think.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">But these were pretty good. </span></div>
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Same with brussel sprouts. They really DON'T taste that great but I've had them prepared creatively enough that I can tolerate them. I recently had Brussel sprouts with bacon, parmesan, and cashews. YUM. Maybe it was the bacon that elevated them. Isn't everything better with bacon? They were so yummy that I made Brussel sprouts for dinner last night . Mine had balsamic vinegar and honey. Again, they were pretty yummy.<br />
Did my taste buds change? Maybe.<br />
Lesson learned?<br />
Tastes change. For many things. Never quit tasting. Or experimenting.<br />
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So. Challenges. Not on a list. But little mountains to climb. And plant my flag on top.<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">My mountains.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">My flag. </span></div>
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<br />Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8614227667819677448.post-48732238321238239442018-12-31T06:00:00.000-06:002018-12-31T10:33:47.411-06:00Embracing Winter<span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">Embracing Winter...whether I want to or not.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Last year, my first full winter in Colorado, Mother Nature was kind. The winter was warm(ish) and the snow was sparse. I mastered driving in snow and ice in baby steps. And fortunately did not have to practice it much.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">This year, winter showed up with a vengeance. There has been more snow so far this year than we had all of last year. I have already burned through 800 pounds of pellets. Last year I maybe used 250 pounds the entire year. (And yes, I had to carry every single one of those 40 pound bags into the house. My winter upper body work out.)</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">The Twin Sisters dusted all over</span>.</div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">The drive to work is in the dark. The drive home is in the dark. Thank goodness work has a window which warms me and gives me a dose of Vitamin D very day. That will change in the spring as the office moves to a new space. I am delighted at all the construction delays as I am dreading the move.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUNillqNmNUlOF1ofiV9kqdwp0fj03fbpIBRUzFjNt789RcALEAlcNsXFeWF_yCTubZWWQvnQeMHgzCzXRb4Xy54GDQRBqmrTRmMfc-jceJn5MQvhjS50MSeyvfnozyfogWW0hneQ54Qf/s1600/IMG_0918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUNillqNmNUlOF1ofiV9kqdwp0fj03fbpIBRUzFjNt789RcALEAlcNsXFeWF_yCTubZWWQvnQeMHgzCzXRb4Xy54GDQRBqmrTRmMfc-jceJn5MQvhjS50MSeyvfnozyfogWW0hneQ54Qf/s640/IMG_0918.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">My toes seldom see the light of day. They go from Uggs to the shower - where I catch a glimpse of them under water- to socks and boots and more socks and blankets. My skin resembles the underbelly of a mushroom- pale and luminescent- deprived of the sun and a tan. Under every shirt is a camisole, an extra layer of warmth. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Hiding behind the clouds</span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">The bears have set an example that I seem to be following: load up on food and hibernate. Gone are summer's salads and shrimp tacos, replaced by potatoes and apples and pasta, pasta, pasta. Like the bears, I have put on a few extra pounds. I'll worry about that come summer...I'm the only one who sees under the layers of sweaters and jeans. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxkinD_kaSX_tT2_jR83DLjFCvJ3BNB97HhgTZLmNVIrPDwYOwJBYRveEJFAu46tISqduE7ilq9sIL6fTPpSvr5o_ZsM9j1NkjpQ5dgi-tkMfeTew8Orb5nWe5_WtDB-vbIjTQlsVYfhE8/s1600/56601176093__109D4CC7-B5E5-474C-B9D2-1562C14F207B.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxkinD_kaSX_tT2_jR83DLjFCvJ3BNB97HhgTZLmNVIrPDwYOwJBYRveEJFAu46tISqduE7ilq9sIL6fTPpSvr5o_ZsM9j1NkjpQ5dgi-tkMfeTew8Orb5nWe5_WtDB-vbIjTQlsVYfhE8/s640/56601176093__109D4CC7-B5E5-474C-B9D2-1562C14F207B.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Ham and cheese in a puff pastry on a bed of jalapeño reduction, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">courtesy of my fave restaurant, <a href="http://shallots-salida.com/">Shallots</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">These are the meals I crave and live on. </span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Home from work, the cabin is chilly, the floors cold. First the pellet stove gets fired up, then the dog fed. Some nights it seems the cabin never warms so I take another cue from the bears and give in, taking the iPad and a book to the warmth of the electric blanket. It's dark out anyway, why not just go on to bed? </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><span style="color: #0b5394;">A blanket of snow and clouds rolling towards the cabin.</span></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">Walks are non-existent unless there is fresh snow. Then they are a workout. But the day after snow there is ice, and with ice comes slips. That's how I <a href="http://sixtyxsixty.blogspot.com/2014/01/o-my-gosh-its-2014-andno-38-learn.html">broke my elbow</a> a few years ago, an experience I am in no hurry to repeat. So my workout routine is also non-existent, except for lugging bags of pellets in and out. The yoga classes at work call to me, maybe I need to reply. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1k74jo0e1L19TbWJm-DwkUFnO1j5cAXGkgfbokUmQVvEQgHWToHONeIaIqo1i1Qfi4XWIoN5fLp_0ySf0b28hKFYeokgTKEnxJeqkfl1vDIq8gRkH213J1ecfSttpIhKc38mf6GqoAoSN/s1600/IMG_1004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1k74jo0e1L19TbWJm-DwkUFnO1j5cAXGkgfbokUmQVvEQgHWToHONeIaIqo1i1Qfi4XWIoN5fLp_0ySf0b28hKFYeokgTKEnxJeqkfl1vDIq8gRkH213J1ecfSttpIhKc38mf6GqoAoSN/s640/IMG_1004.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Clouds, fog, snow? </span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">But in it all there is such beauty. Driving into Salida there is suddenly the view of the Collegiate Peaks, dusted with snow. The Sisters out my front door change daily. Snow covered, snow dusted, snow traces, repeat. The bald eagles are out, majestically flying through the canyon, fishing the river. Where they are during the summer I do not know, but winter and spring are when I usually see them and this winter the sightings have been frequent. That river they fish, the Arkansas, is full of ice, frozen towards the edges, chunks breaking free and floating down as the sun warms the day. </span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">And even as we enter January I see a flash of hope </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">to keep me carrying on. Last week the sun set at 4:39pm, this week it will be 4:44pm. Five minutes later each week? I'll take that. By the end of January the difference will be noticeable. There are bulbs under the snow, storing their energy, waiting for enough sun and warmth to pop through.</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);">And until then? You will find me under the electric blanket, reading. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Carlos and I know where we belong in the winter. </span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(255, 0, 255);"><br /></span>Nancie N Bartleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943116376807209833noreply@blogger.com0