Ghost storm

I said I wouldn't post anymore shots of snowy tulips and I'm keeping my word. This was the new bed last Thursday afternoon. I thought I was being clever and helping a few tulips and daffodils hold their own against the forecasted 12-14 inches of snow we were supposed to get overnight and into Friday. Coloradans battened down the hatches, the airlines canceled 140 flights at Denver International in anticipation of snowed-in runways, even the State Legislature declared it a snow day. And nothing happened. During the night the front took a 100 mile swing south of us, spawned a tornado in Texas, and generally wreaked havoc across the nation. But we were spared. Now we're feeling like weather wimps, but I think it's just post traumatic snow syndrome.

The next day dawned sunny and beautiful, a good thing for one of my nephews who had planned an outdoor wedding at a small bed and breakfast inn at Manitou Springs, nestled at the foot of Pikes Peak. The bride, in her long gown, had to clamber up those steep wooden steps to the top of a hill and descend down the other side into the garden for her wedding entrance. A spread of rose petals awaited her. And no, she didn't trip. Ah, youth!

Pikes Peak and the Garden of the Gods rock formations made for a nice backdrop. Talk about borrowing your neighbor's scenery to enhance your garden.

I hadn't been at the wedding five minutes when the strap on my shoe broke. See that one across my ankle? It came unglued, or unstitched or whatever it was that was supposed to be holding it on. Thankfully the shoes had wedge heels so I was able to pretend like I was wearing clogs. With a flopping strap. I was almost wishing I had a pair of flowered wellies in the car!

Packing flowers

After two months of wearing snow boots, today I wore flipflops around the house getting my feet accustomed to them again. In a few days I'm off to Mexico for a couple of weeks. Normally on the day I fly out, I've been up half the night before trying on clothes to see if they fit and then frantically stuffing things into my suitcase. This year I decided to pack a few days in advance. What a concept!
I've been leisurely hauling the "Mexico stuff" up from the cedar closet in the basement and deciding what size I am this year. I have a whole range of sizes and patterns to choose from. I hardly ever wear a floral print at home, but I'm not staying home. I get a kick out of dressing like a typical tourist. It's almost like going to a costume party and I actually have worn some of these clothes as costumes at Halloween. Of course, you won't find clothing like this in a Mexican department store. Most Mexican women dress like "norteamericanas" - they wouldn't be caught dead in this apparel. I'm perfectly happy to join the throngs of those who look like tourists, because I am one! And there's something about being surrounded by all the tropical colors - flaming bouganvilliea cascading over sun splashed walls, red and orange and yellow hibiscus, a canopy of yellow primavera overhead - that makes my usual blue jeans and boring white blouses a sacrilege.


The hard part is figuring out how to pare down the packing. I know there are women who throw on their Travelsmith reversible dress and hit Europe for two weeks with only an overnighter to haul around, but I can't conceive of that. On the other hand, do I need 8 pairs of capris for a 16 day trip? I don't know, I can't decide. Will 6 pairs of shoes be enough, or too much? After I return home each year I make an attempt to write down what I wore so I'll have guidelines for the next time. Each year I misplace the list. Well, I have a few days to decide, rather than the normal few hours I've given myself in the past. What isn't negotiable are the 6 or 8 novels I'll bring, a couple of bird guides, and my binoculars. That must be what's weighing down my suitcase, not all those flowery clothes!

MY BAD

Fall is coming. I can feel it in the air in the early mornings and late evening. When I get into bed I find myself pulling the comforter up for the first time since late spring. The crickets that have been chirping so lustily on my windowsill each evening are beginning to sound like electronic toys whose batteries are dying down.
The birds are flocking. They're flying from field to field and bush to bush, gleaning all the seeds and insects they can find to get ready to migrate. And my wimpy little Amur Maple needs tree wrap to survive the upcoming winter.

When I had a huge overgrown upright juniper removed in the spring I really wanted to replace it with a tree that would sport bright red leaves to complement all the evergreens in the neighborhood. All I could find was this little Flame Maple, a Charlie Brown tree if I ever saw one. It's needed lots of support to even stay upright but I have high hopes for it. So I want to make sure it makes it through the winter. I swung by WalMart to get some tree wrap for it and also to see if they had any "Croc"-type shoes to wear in the garden. My gardening shoes of choice, flip-flops, are so slick on the bottom after a couple of years of wear that standing on a wet patio is like trying to stay upright on glaze ice. Well they didn't have any Crocs but I did find six other pairs of shoes.

These are my favorites. None of them will do for the garden but I can wear them to work and I spend more waking hours there anyway. So $1.87 for tree wrap turned into a slightly larger dent on the debit card, but hey, we're talking WalMart here. I'm still going to look for Crocs, and I bet if I wear them with a pair of socks I can even go outside in the middle of a blizzard-y night and knock the snow off my Charlie Brown tree without falling on my butt.
And when I'm snuggled back under my comforter, I can dream that my tree will look like this in a few years.