High Park Fire

Two weeks ago a lightning strike during a thunder storm in the foothills some 25 miles west of us started a fire.  15 days on, it has burned over 81,000 acres and is still going strong.  Depending on the wind, we can wake up, as we did this morning, with the house full of smoke.  

We have been short of rain this spring and the ground is extremely dry.  Temperatures have been steady in the 90s and have exceeded 100 several days in the last week.

While looking online for the latest news on the fire this morning, I came across The chirpy headline:

"Colorado's High Park fire competes with blazes across the state" with this map:

And this after reading about the rain and floods Britain has been experiencing.  Nothing like a bit of contrast.

Shaggy Dogs

Such a long time since my last post.  One recent thing that has been keeping us busy is below:

Thing One and Thing Two

Or, as you can see, two things.  These are MacKenzie and Mabel.  Two Lhasa Apso dogs that Sally is fostering for the local Humane Society (I suppose this is the equivalent of the RSPCA).  These two little doggies are puppy mill refugees and probably not the best thing to initiate us dog virgins into the wonderful world of doggie care.  We were told that they were mother and daughter, Mabel being about two years old and MacKenzie about nine months.  Mabel is very protective of MacKenzie and will follow her around, which is useful, as neither of them will tolerate a lead.  If allowed, they would sit in their crate all day coming out only when no one is looking to eat or evacuate.

Mabel & MacKenzie

They are sweet and mild mannered in the extreme.  We are slowly, slowly acquainting them with the big outdoors, and have, after about a week of fostering, finally seen an upright tail.   We've had some small success in house training; I fear Sally in inclined to sleep too late to really knock this on the head.  No idea how long they will be with us.  But kinda fun for now.

Another year....

No one could accuse me of being a dynamo when it comes to housekeeping or decorating.  Self knowledge was one of the reasons that I was so reluctant to buy the house we now live in, for, although pristinely maintained, it is a true child of it's time.  1976 - the decade that taste forgot, as one of my acquaintance calls it.  Not having pots of money for remodeling, my own idleness (along with that of other unnamed members of the household) has me trapped in the tasteless.  So I am particularly pleased to have finally finished a truly green renovation of our family bathroom.  Green, for obvious reasons (see colour of bath and toilet) but green, because, rather than remove these perfectly working monstrosities, I was able to see past my prejudice and realise that this particular green is in decorating vogue at the moment.  I was able to choose from dozens of fabrics that matched the hue exactly.  Much less wasteful to add a bit of matching fabric and a lick of paint.  Substantially less expensive.  Finally livable.

After

 Before

After

Before

The real reason I'm posting these here is because although my bothersome brother can make it up from Colorado Springs to Loveland, he cannot manage to make it up my stairs to admire my handiwork.

So there you have it.  One room down, 11 more to go.  Sigh.  Actually I have just started removing the most bizarre wallpaper from my workroom.  It is a large plaid pattern of mustard yellow, pale green of the toilet colour variety, and ochre with minute flecks of gold string.  Oddly, there is something about it that I have come to rather like.  It is a heavy vinyl, easily removed, and I think I may just try to sell it on e-bay to some 70s enthusiast.  (I know you're out there.)  Although as I write, I realise that I have made the most colossal mistake of not having photographed it in situ first.

On the subject of bathrooms, before we bought this house, we referred to it as the Japanese basin house, as it has a fairly bizarre basin in the cloakroom.   Our little cat, princess decided recently that it was just the perfect size for her.  How silly is that?  (Maybe so, but you have to agree, that apart from anything else, doesn't it bring out the colour of my eyes?)

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving sees us at my sister's in Laramie again. She has a handsome flock of four hens and two ducks. Sally and Spencer were very happy to feed them and both remembered with fondness our own hens in Leigh.

The Homeowners' Association where we now live prohibits poultry - heaven alone knows why - There is a level of gentrification to which they aspire I imagine. As I am on the HOA committee, perhaps I can persuade them of the error of their thinking. (This would probably work better if I kept my plot in immaculate condition - I don't.)

In any event, the birds were unaware that, as they were being fed here, a cousin was being readied to feed us for our Thanksgiving feast. How callous, but very tasty it was.

Autumn in the Rockies

This is Spencer walking home from school earlier this week.

One day it was 80 degrees, the next we had 8 inches of snow.

Today it was 17 degrees when we woke up. Of course, this is not all that unsual. It’s not an annual occurrence, but it happens often enough for everyone to have their own story about 19sometime or other when….. The most heartbreaking thing is that this sort of snow, falling before the leaves have had a chance to, weighs so heavily on the branches of trees that they break. A neighbour had the most beautiful young oak tree. It was a perfect shape, and was only just beginning to turn from green to the brightest red imaginable. At least three of the main branches have split from the trunk.

October brings the annual round of cider making. This year was perfect autumnal activity, but had to be split into two weekends, as, after a few hours on the first Saturday, the motor for the press broke. My clever and capable brothers sorted it out, and we proceeded the following Saturday with a total pressing of some 230 gallons.

The cider press

The Barn with the washing tumbler and apple masher on the right.

Fort Collins hosts something called ‘The Sustainable Living Fair’ every year. I have taken it upon myself to volunteer at the fair, which enables me to spend half a day working amongst like-minded people, and the rest of the day wandering around the fair (and has nothing to do with the fact thats they provide volunteers with lunch and a draft [Colorado sports an admirable number of small independent brewers]). To be honest, the majority of the stuff is greenwashed consumerism, but there are bits and pieces that are worthwhile. I was working in the “Eat Local” tent, where one talk was about hunting. Not quite up my street, but to be fair, what more honest way to obtain sustainable and wholesome meat? A second talk was by the local chapter of the Weston A Price Foundation. Now I’ve known about the Weston A Price Foundation since Sally was small, and have a great deal of time for them. I had no idea they had local chapters, however, and was delighted to discover this one. I’m a fully paid member now and this will probably lead me further down my path of obsessive quality food procurement.

To that end, I have finally organized the purchase of a cow share, so that I can buy raw milk – that being the only way to do so in Colorado – each state has it’s own laws about whether or not and how citizens may buy and consume this dangerous substance.

What is most peculiar is that this milk does not sour quickly. When I drank raw milk obtained from Bore Place, it would sour after three or four days. Here, for some reason, the milk is fresh and drinkable for up to ten days. What could be the difference? Bacteria in the air? Altitude? Aridity? It bewilders me as much as the fact that I have difficulty in getting my clothes clean here, despite the fact that the water is so much softer. Spilled tea on my shirt: something I never thought twice about in Leigh, must be stain-treated prior to laundering, and even then it may not come clean.

Halloween is almost upon us, and I have some serious concerns about my son. He was asking me the other day whether he had to go Trick-or-Treating. I suspect the query had something to do with my refusal to buy him a $50 costume.

Another Summer Comes to a Close

Summer ends and I am remiss about posting here. Was supposed to have written about our journey to Santa Fe in early June. Sally spent a week there with my sister (she of the straw bale house) and Andrew, Spencer, my brother, Jim, and I drove down to spend a weekend and bring her home again. Here is Spencer in Santa Fe Market.

Last week she began classes at Front Range Community College, which is just 11 miles up the road from us. She chose to go this route for two reasons: 1. She hasn’t yet decided what she would like to study, but wants to carry on with higher education. She can undertake general studies here which she will be able to apply to whatever degree course she ultimately chooses, and 2. Community College tuition is easily half of standard university tuition, and Colorado universities guarantee to accept with full credit, the courses taken at Colorado community colleges. Moreover, those courses tend to be smaller and more individualized than Uni courses. It’s really a no-brainer.

She got a job at McDonald’s in late June, but it has been most unsatisfactory from day one, when she turned up for her orientation along with five others and waited for 45 minutes before being told the orientation was cancelled, to the five week delay in providing her with her first paycheck. which she received only last week.

I have been working nearly every day including Sundays for some six weeks. A colleague passed away quite suddenly, and I have been working several of her shifts. In addition, the library is undertaking a project and we all have the opportunity to pick up some extra hours.

I had my bike retrofitted with a motor so that I could ride to work. The library is just under four miles away, so within easy distance, but there is this major hill on the way home. Of course it is on the way to work as well, but obviously one way is down which is no problem, and the other way….. Anyway, I employ the motor for just one minute up this hill each day. One still pedals, but it feels no more onerous than pedaling on a flat surface. It’s terrific. The only downside being the weight of the batteries; they must weigh 40lbs, making the bike seriously heavy.

Graduation

One down and one to go - although it will be some eight years before Spencer holds his own diploma. He is goo-gooing around here with his sister's mortarboard.

And here she is before the ceremony. If we hadn't booked and paid for the gown several months ago, I'm sure she wouldn't have bothered attending the ceremony. Something I knew, having done this too long ago to remember, is that all American graduation ceremonies are accompanied by Elgar: Pomp and Circumstance/Land of Hope and Glory. Sally was astonished when she heard it at the rehearsal. "That's English! What are they playing that for?" Yet it has been used for American graduations since 1905 - just three years after it was written. Another thing the two countries have in common and most probably don't know about.

Parents were given a bossy little list of things they were and weren't allowed to do. One wasn't allowed to take photos in the stadium - that was the preserve of a professional, who would then charge big bucks for prints. One also wasn't supposed to use air horns (a more modern form of the vuvuzela), sparklers or other fireworks. One parent decided that party poppers would be just the ticket, and pulled a few of them when their darling collected his or her diploma. This foolhardy act set off the fire alarm and the ceremony was duly interrupted so that we could all evacuate until the serious breach was investigated. What a world we live in. It'll make for a mildly amusing anecdote in years to come I suppose.

So the children are out of school, the neighbourhood pool is open, and we have three months of summer holidays to look forward to. More of which later.