A Pause

One week from today, we move out. There's more to the end of this chapter of this house, but I want to take a minute and step away from all that. There is another side to this story, this home, that I want to share because I am reminded of it daily.

The Inevitable, Maybe

It happened.

You knew it was going to at some point, right?

Executive-Level Run Ins

So, my office is rather large. As the global headquarters for an organization that works in 26 countries, and partners with an additional 12 for fundraising, there are a lot of people in my office. Not terribly many in my department, but in the building as a whole, there are something like 900. Now, you corporate types might not feel like that's a terribly big office, but for us non-profiteers, its enormous. I'm more likely to meet someone outside of work and talk with them for several minutes before realizing that we actually "work together" because they are on a different floor and I've never seen them before. It happens.

In the Mountains, with Elk

Part way up Deer Mounain, looking at Longs Peak

Fall is definitely my favorite season. It likely stems from those high school cross country days, when I felt totally in my element, running under the changing leaves at Stoney Creek and getting up way to early every Saturday morning to take the yellow school bus to yet another invitational. Or maybe its that now, as an adult, I find most holidays totally overblown, commercial endeavors (even though I love decorating for Christmas), and falls stands without major holiday (remember, I grew up in Michigan, where Thanksgiving was already winter, calendar be damned,) especially September. Any way you cut it, I love fall. And no matter the time of year, I love being outside.

So camping in Rocky Mountain National Park in fall? Yea, definitely that.

The Passing of Kinky Friedman

So, as I alluded to in my last post, the passing of Kinky Friedman is an ongoing saga. Most recently, it took a literal turn.

Say Nothing at All

In my last post, I talked about the Z Family visit to Colorado. There was one thing I didn't mention in that post. The entire week, there was a epic battle happening between the Zolman's and the Kelly's, a stand-off really, where nothing ever actually said out loud.

It was the battle of Kinky Friedman.

Latergram or How I Spent Someone Else's Summer Vacation

For a couple of months now, I have been threatening promising to share about the time this summer when the Zolman family came on summer vacation to visit us.

Background: The Z family lived down the street from us when we lived in our second house in Indiana. Eric and Chad coached together at Homestead High School, and Chris and I, along with the other coaches' wives, sat in the stands on Friday nights and attempted to watch the games while analyzing where on the happy/unhappy/somewhat nuclear scale our husbands were on at the moment and generally trying to ignore parents in the stands making unkind remarks about the coaches. Seriously, parents are awful. Take note, all parents of football players: with very, VERY few exceptions, your child is not a future D1 and/or professional football player. At 5 foot 3, 110 pounds soaking-wet with slippery fingers and a 5:1 40-time, your child does NOT meet the exception criteria. Shut up, be glad he's on the team, and stop complaining about playing time/your kid could do it better/if the coach would only x,y, or z. You're wrong, and yes, I can hear you in the stands. Also, your roots are showing.