Denver

carabbleRocky Mountain High.  Can’t get the song out of my head since we’ve been here.  That’s OK though.  I’m a big fan of John Denver.  Denver (not John) was the destination for this trip – W had a work meeting to attend.  I got to play.  I love traveling with W.  He has an Orvis backpack he wears (I call it his book bag- he he).  He resembles a graying 8 year old. Love it.  I walked quite a bit –  street photography is a big deal for me.  I’m a huge fan of Diane Arbus and newly discovered Vivian Maier.  I highly recommend you see the movie via Netflix called Finding Vivian Maier.  Click <here> for some famous street photographers. Ok. Back to Denver.

Denver has this great mall I suppose is the word you would use to describe 16th street.  On weekends they close it off and it becomes a huge hangout of sorts.  Food carts, performers, you name it  – it’s there.  There are also pianos all over the place.  Brightly colored – urban art sort of décor painted on them.  Anyone can sit down and play.  I did get W to tinkle a tune on the ivory keys.  He’s very talented I think.   There’s also an unusual amount of homeless here.   I’ve come to the conclusion (via indepth conversations with a new friend) that the younger street people are actually just on a journey of sorts.  I watch them quite a bit without being disrespectful to anyone.  I have to wonder where they came from – is someone worrying about them – or maybe no one at all is.  Which makes me sad.  The elderly is quite a different story.  Heartbreaking.  I did learn that Denver has quite a large network to help the homeless.  Which made it all end on a happy note of sorts. I suppose.

I met a new friend (one of other wives attending the meetings with her hubby).  There was an immediate connection on our parts.  We ran into one another at Union Station of all places.  We sat and plotted our adventure for the next day.  We rented a car and drove to Georgetown where a wonderful train has a loop (about an hour ride).  We talked of books and kids and lives we’ve lived.  We boarded the train and nested in the Parlor car (first class which includes beverage and snacks – no martinis on this ride – too early in the day!).  We scooted through Aspen and evergreens – watching rapids on the river.   The conductor was quite the charmer as he wove stories of trains past.  Quite the comedian we chuckled at his stabs of humor. We meandered through the streets of  Georgetown as well –  quaint with a splash of Victorian thrown in for good measure.

We headed back to Denver where I picked W up.  We jumped right back in the car heading back to the train and town ending up in Idaho Springs for dinner.   The conductor on the train highly recommended Beau-Jo’s for dinner.  Pizza and OH MY WORD not just ANY pizza.  Good GRIEF it was delightfully yummy.  We got the deep dish pie – then you add honey to the crust after devouring all the cheesy goodness.  Foaming at the mouth thinking about that pizza.  :::::shaking my head and smiling:::::::  All these quaint towns turn into ski villages during the snow seasons.  I may need to return just for that pizza again.  Holy smacks.

On a side note – here are a few links to some odd and curious things about the Denver airport.  I really like the airport personally.  It reminds me of tents in the desert.  Not that I’ve ever seen tents in a desert in person mind you.  But if I do – I bet they will remind me of the Denver airport.  Just saying. Ahem.

8 Curious things about Denver Airport (truly bizarre)

Blue Mustang Statue 

Pics below — my street photography if you will.  You can view these without being a member of FB by the way.  Which is uber cool. I use FB for photo storage.

Day #1

Day #2

Day #3

Day #4 – headed home 

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Mouse in the House

FullSizeRenderYou’ll have to remember when you read this– unless you’ve actually known me for my entire life — or at least a month–  I’m overtly sensitive AND I have an over-the-top imagination.  I’ll just say ‘you have no idea’ and really mean it.  Nothing has been smoked or consumed other than coffee for my imagination to be so.   When people tell me ‘don’t be so sensitive’ I look at them thinking ‘Don’t breath then’.  You can’t stop yourself from breathing — and sensitive people can’t stop being sensitive.  And THAT’S OK!   As if I can really change the fact that’s how I’m hard-wired – OR shut down my imagination.   God made it – don’t judge.   I like to also think God’s pretty darn pleased and amused with how I manage to keep him entertained much of the time.

On to a very furry story.  I have a petite cabin nested in N Georgia mountains – Ellijay to be exact.  Red Bear Cabin.   Quilt filled, whimsical perched beside a babbling brook.  I like to sit out on the front deck listening to the babble of the brook as if it’s filling me in on what I’ve missed since my last visit .  I imagine it saying ‘you should have SEEN the deer in the back yard yesterday’…. or ‘we have the chubbiest chipmunks…have you ever noticed that?’.   You get the jest of our conversations.  You may have completely different conversations with my babbling brook– but I digress.

I was aware of the presence of a petite mouse (hopefully it’s one and not an entire herd of mice) at the cabin when I noticed my wonderful berry filled wreath above the fireplace began looking a bit ….. berry-less.  I walked closer to said wreath when I realized there were small calling cards (mice poo) scattered along the mantle.  Eyes wide with the realization we have a small visitor — who wasn’t on the guest list at the cabin.  Smack.  Criminy.  Love/hate relationship immediately formed with the little fella.

Friends were visiting the cabin a month later and caught the little guy.  I was hopeful that was the end of my mouse saga.  Alas — I popped up to the cabin yesterday to get my mountain fix —  I sat nested in quilts on the over-stuffed brown leather couch – happy as a plum – sipping a good glass of Cabernet – when I noticed a petite furry brown face staring at me across the room. Obviously the twin brother of the previously slain mouse my friends captured a few months back.   It was lounging on the Palomino club chair – in striped red pjs (that part is a lie obviously- maybe)  watching me watch a movie.  I smiled at him.  He was pretty darn cute.  I imagined him making himself at home when the cabin was unoccupied by humans.  He had a martini on the back deck as he hung his towel on the hook before he entered the hot tub for his nightly routine of watching dusk descend upon Red Bear Cabin.  He had a favorite quilt – the one with sailboats and red patches – weathered and worn from years of snuggling.

My heart sank because I realized I would need to kill the little fella.  Tearful as I write this.  That’s the overtly sensitive part of my tormented soulful self.  I give human personality to animals and inanimate objects.  I think there’s a name for that in the mental health community (anthropomorphize).   For now we’ll just call it #Kimysworld shall we? Lordy.  :::shaking my head:::::

I watched him scurry behind the chair as I turned off lights getting ready for bed.  Little did he realize it was his last night at Chez Red Bear.  I put a dab of peanut butter in the mouse traps and walked sadly up to my bedroom.  I lay awake for hours – fitfully trying to sleep and apologizing to him and the world for slaying this sweet little mouse.  Hopeful he was very smart and knew I had set the traps that he would be able to escape.  Darn.

I finally drifted off at some point – I awoke to birds chirping as the sun was filling the room with a new day.  A day without one little brown furry mouse in the world.  ::::sigh::::

The little guy hopefully went swiftly into never-never land of mousedom.   His death turned into morbid curiosity as I held the mouse-trap with his limp or should I say already stiff body.   I buried him by the babbling brook who quickly babbled to me that it needed to be done.   It’s OK.  I love my babbling brook who obviously loves me back.

So — I sit here recounting this furry little story to you – at the Martyn House Intown – my haunt when I’m at the cabin.  Sipping my latte – feeling better already.  Thanks for listening. :::wrinkling nose :::::::

 

Happy Camper

IMG_3973One of my dearest BFF’s bought a 1958 Deville 12 foot camper.  It’s a complete dream.  Completely.   Think of all the possibilities of road trips.  ENDLESS.  The goal of any road trip of course is where you’ll end up at sunset and what cocktail you’ll be having at that moment sunset begins.  Let’s get our priorities straight here.

She bought this camper (who I think they’ve named Mary Jane or Betty — I can’t remember which is the car and which is the camper….) and traveled from Atlanta to California (San Fran area) to pick it up.  A magical journey ensued in which I would text her mid-day – ‘So where are you now’….then afternoon ‘what cocktail and where will you be for sunset’…..then ‘where are you headed today? ….. yadda yadda yadda…… it went on for a month and finally they came back through Birmingham so I could see and touch and completely think of stealing the camper as they slept over night on their way home to Atlanta.

So…last night… I dreamed of road trips…. and cocktails at sunset…  settling into National Parks and putting enticing invitations on other campers doors to join us for cocktails, conversations and stories of the road around a roaring campfire…  as we plotted our next few days of sunsets and cocktails.  Endless possibilities…. endless I tell you.  ::::dreamy sigh:::::

Don’t worry — I didn’t steal the camper.  I do get to plan road trips though.  We’ll go GLAMPING…..  Just us girls.  ::::beaming:::::::

Friends feed your spirit……

787b0389d6bf9c7fc727fc0ef0c78d3aI woke up this morning in an enchanted land of quilts, beautiful art, whimsical dishes, french pressed coffee and a wonderfully playful red-headed wackadoodle best friend who I adore.  I’m the cheese to her macaroni —  her nickname is Anda Panda Macaroni.  Don’t ever get too old to be silly with your bestie.  You’re missing out if you do.

I drove into Atlanta (the song from the B52’s ‘Atlanta Hwy’ always in my head when on I-20 – I got me a car it’s as big as a WHALE… :::wiggling toes merrily:::::) to handle some business.  Once the business part was over I headed to see ‘The Uncles’ and get my uncle fix — #UncleLove – meet the girls for dinner then sleep over at Panda’s house.   The grandkids room is up a narrow winding staircase that over looks the tops of the trees.  It’s really like a little treehouse room.  Filled with quilted beds, toys, books art, posters and so much more!  I walked to the end of the room where a bedside light was already on to welcome me.  My puffed quilted bed was already pulled back. Dreamy sigh.  La-de-dah-de-dah.  Indeed.

Girlfriends have ALWAYS played a very important part of my life.  The Uncles do too and though they would like to count as girlfriends technically they don’t have the required girlfriend parts (at least not that I’m aware of…ahem).  Giggling at that.  Lordy.

After a wonderful dinner catching up with three very important girlfriends…  Anda locked up and I meandered up to my ‘attic nest’ to retire for the evening.    My lips curled into a smile as I made my way through the dim light to my patchwork quilted bed.  My bedside lamp glowed warmly as I curled up to read.  I quickly realized that wasn’t going to last long.  I reached over turning out the light as moonbeams filtered in through the window where my bed was perched underneath.   Rain drops tipped and tapped making my nights sleep restful and sound.

‘Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast’. — Queen of Hearts,  Alice in Wonderland. 

I texted Anda when I awoke to let her know I was headed down to make coffee = french press style.   She tends to scream (loudly) when startled.  You understand my text now.

We giggled over morning coffee and Facebook updates.  I in my pink lounging pjs with the white pin-stripes and Panda in a thick robe and red hair sticking up all over the place.   Surrounded by treasures from estate sales and coffee cups…. life is wonderful.

We met more friends for coffee at Rev Coffee (with the hidden bar in the back — love it!).  I headed back to Birmingham and my love – W.   Fun to get away —  great going back home.  Although I have two homes really.  Historic College Park and now Birmingham with W.   Life is wonderful.  Truly.

Girlfriends fill your heart and spirit.  Thank you to all my dear friends who add so much to my world!

Under the covers…..

IMG_3046Ok. So.  I’m in Seattle for the ‘Annual Kimy – Diane Girlfriend Trip’ which usually corresponds on the first weekend of December every year.  We did Austin TX last year.  We’ve been to Maine, Key West, DC (we did DC for years – then realized ‘gosh – there’s a whole other world out there – lol – easy to get caught up in DC at Christmas; or really anytime of the year actually.  He he he).

A travel partner is a finicky beast.  Di and I travel REALLY well together (I have several friends who I can coexist with on trips – you know who you are! Beach! ). W and I travel really well together (that’s my fiancé by the way ::::dreamy sigh:::: )

This morning I got up really super early Seattle time.  4am here which in ATL is about the time 3 hours later I would usually stir and awaken.  Di was still asleep.  I slowly reached over for my phone which I was able to entertain myself for a bit before the urge to slip my laptop out from under my pillow where I had tucked it the night before.  I glance over to make sure she was still asleep.  Good so far.  I slowly eased myself under the covers and bingo – laptop up and masked by sheets and a thick comforter.  If she were to awaken I’m sure she would have just closed her eyes and gone back to sleep.  The dull glow from my sheets I imagined was like a very large fire fly.

I found myself smiling as I thought about my childhood.  I was a ‘under the sheets’ flashlight book reader.  I went through a ton of batteries because I would fall asleep and the flashlight would be dead the next morning.  My mother would try to tip-toe down the hall to make sure I was asleep – however I have EXCELLENT hearing and would turn off that light in a snap and feign slumber.  Academy award please.  I earned it!   I never worried if my kids were reading under the covers.  I would bring them a glass of water and sometimes slip under there with them.  Reading under the sheets is well… just plain fun.

Now here I sit at Starbucks off Pike Street Market in Seattle.  At laptop – writing, working a bit – watching the Seattle streets fill with people.   Life is good.  And magical.

Lost in Space

FullSizeRender (17)Time change.  Take note of that if you will.  It’s November the 2nd, a time change has occurred.  Not to mention I’m moving from one time zone to another.  I’m not even sure what I call the new time zone. It’s what… (googling as I write this) I”m in eastern time zone and come the first of the year if all the stars align I’ll be what….. (googling again)…. Central Time Zone.   That composed with the fact I’ve had cocktails at a friends home (Anda and Jennie you stand guilty of these cocktails take pride if you will) and I’m getting married (the most incredible thing and person in my entire life) is taking place next month, partnered with a different time zone and selling my home and well….. I’m lost in space at this very moment of 8:58pm EST in ATL.  Well. There now.

So. I sit here…nested in quilts…. digging for olives in my Greek salad from Nicks Food to Go in ATL…  for it’s a bit nippy here in Atlanta GA.  I sit as I have for days on end in years past, in my favorite writing spot if you will from my perch in my home in Historic College Park.  I came back to ATL this morning from Birmingham Alabama.  If you would have EVER told me…at any point in my entire LIFE I would be commuting from Alabama in any sense of the word shape or form…. I would have thrown my head back and laughed at you as if you were a cartoon character in some odd skit.  Well… reality is quite magical at times…now isn’t it.   Because my fairy god mother is a flying pig.  And it has a mean wand.

I just bit into a pepperoncini still digging into my greek salad from days ago.  So I visited Greece a month or so back and now I can only eat Greek. What gives?  (digging for an olive again….it’s unending).

I suppose the lost sense of all of this… its that I sit here…. on my ever so cozy couch….  looking out onto my sun room on the back of my house.. my little yellow chalet that has always been my nest.  For at least what…almost 16 years or so?  I turned 50 and my quest was to find the person I would grow old with.  I found him.   This wonderful man who practices law of sorts in a wonderful village in the land of Roll Tide.   And smitten.  Smitten am I with this man.  And when he asked me to marry him I cried for at least what seemed  like…. l5 or 20 minutes until I caught my breath.  But then my world changed.  Because I would venture into a different time zone to sell my beloved chalet which has been a nest.  So I trust that my new nest will be just as wonderful. And it is.  Love is an incredible thing. Take a chance I say.  Magic ensues.

Girls Road Trip!

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Left ATL today for Fripp Island SC.   Girl Road Trip. #GirlsRoadTrip  I love a good hashtag.  Don’t you know.

First let me say — I got engaged this past Sunday.  To the most incredible man.  How humble am I that he loves ME.  When we first met — I gave him a perfect cupid figurine – I had the twin but mine had the broken wing.  I joked to him that we had cupids plotting to get us to fall in love.  He’s so very perfect and I’m just me.  I told my daughter — for all the things I’ve been through in my life, that I would end up here, with this man; I will grow old together with him — I could watch paint dry with him – or grass grow.  Are you curling your lip thinking ‘oh lordy let’s move on…. ‘ fine.  I’ll continue with what I originally started with which was a ‘Girls Road Trip’ however…. I’m in dreamy sigh high heaven thankful to the stars and God above.  :::::wiggling toes merrily::::::

I asked my most wonderful husband to be, if he was ‘ok’ with me going to Fripp Island for a few days to do girly girl things – talk, read, sip cocktails by the setting sun, breath in the salty crisp ocean air that is the October way by the sea.   And do you know what he said ?  He completely supports ‘girl time’.   Once again — I adore this man.  Respect him to the moon and back.  Thus….road trip begins.

Girl talk, chat and everyone in all three of our lives discussed on the 5 plus hour drive from ATL to Fripp Island SC.  Our tradition of eating breakfast at WaHo (Waffle House) even though it was almost 1pm (my fault).   It’s not gossip — it’s sharing.  Ahem.  Our dart and dash drive was to catch sunset this evening which happened at 6:46 EST.  Cocktail in hand we made our destination sunset zipping through the streets on the new golf cart (thanks Jeff & Wendy).

Quite nippy and chilly which has been delightlful  Wrapped in blankets we skirted to the edge of the island at the cocktail culdesac to watch the glorious illumination of sunset.  Breathtaking.  Enchanting.

Because I have a completely conservative view for myself and tattoos (but admire from afar those who have the balls to get them) – we made ink dots on our wrists to symbolize our soriety of girlfriend trips.   It sufficed.  Creatively so.

Now we sit nested in blankets post cocktails (still sipping mine) each reading our books, writing for me — lost in our own thoughts.  Jules in her wonderful black pjs, Jen-nay (said in a Forrest Gump sort of way) in her polka dot blanket (signature staple) and matching pjs, me in my favorite beach sweater and nerdy Buddy Holly glasses.

“Girlfriends will make you laugh so hard you snort (in a nice restaurant), hold you when you hurt, and always seem to know when you need them most. “

Thankful for all my friends — xxoo

two women relaxing in adirondack chairs on a tropical beach

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