Okay, Because it’s Saturday, and I’m Bored Out of My Gourd

Just so you know, these are not all true for me, but I can relate to OH so many of them. Oh, and I know lots of people who were actually born here…

You Know You’re From Colorado When…

People move onto the highway at 15 miles an hour.

You have absolutely no recognizable accent.

If the humidity gets above 25%, you consider it “muggy”.

You only go to Central City when friends are in from out of town.

You have been skiing less than 10 times in your life

You think 5-points is a ghetto.

You are the third car to run a red light after it has changed.

You say things like “I don’t care how big Golden is,
it’s still a one-horse town”.

You think only stupid people get lost in your town.

When giving directions, you never say “Turn left, turn right”, it’s always go West, then South.

During a thunderstorm you wonder “which I-25 underpass is flooding”.

You never plan a picnic between 3:30 and 6:00 in Spring or Summer months.

If it rains more than 2 days straight you compare the weather to being in Seattle.

You voted for higher taxes to fund Coors field, but voted down taxes for public transportation.

You have a broken windshield.

You see no reason to travel to Aurora.

The only RTD bus you’ve been on is the 16th Street shuttle.

You carry your $3,000 mountain bike on top of your $500 car.

You thought “Californication” would be banned by Amendment 2.

You think “South Park” is a place to stop for gas on your way to Buena Vista.

You have a business degree and are frying burgers at a McDonald’s in Vail.

You have a flat tire in your refrigerator and your garage.

You own a big dog named Aspen, Buck, Cheyenne or Dakota that wears a bandanna.

You cast out your fishing line while white-water rafting.

You’ve never seen the tourist attractions in your own city.

You think a pass does not involve a football or a woman.

You are 82 years old and take up snowboarding.

Your real Y2K fear was running out of Celestial Seasonings tea and trail mix.

The entire top of your head is bald, but you still have a pony tail.

You personally wouldn’t pay $10 per head to drive up Pikes Peak unless it was the only mountain on earth, but you tell all our house-guests to do it.

You get depressed after one day of foggy weather.

You think that formal wear is ironed denim.

North means “mountains to the left;” south is “mountains to the right;” and east and west are where all those damned liberals keep moving in from.

You go anywhere else on the planet and the air feels “sticky” and you notice the sky is no longer blue.

You consider a three-piece suit to be a pair of shorts, a sweatshirt and Birkenstocks.

You see your East Coast relatives now more than when you lived there.

You think gun control is a steady hand.

You can run up 10 flights of stairs without huffing and puffing.

You’ve stood on solid ground and looked down on an airplane in flight.

You know what the “Peoples Republic of Boulder” means.

You’re a meat eating vegetarian.

You think the major food groups are Boulder Bars, tofu and Fat Tire Beer.

You’ve been tear gassed in a riot to celebrate your local sports team’s victory.

You can drive over a 12,000 foot pass in 4 feet of snow, but can’t get to work if there are 4 inches of snow.

You know the correct pronunciation of Buena Vista.

When you visit friends at sea level, you can drink a case of beer and not get a buzz.

Your car insurance costs more than your car.

You have surge protectors on every outlet.

April showers bring May blizzards.

You see someone riding a Harley in a snowstorm, and you look closer to see if it’s anyone you know.

“Timberline” is someplace you have actually been. Many times.

You know what a “Chinook” is. You know what a “rocky mountain oyster” is. You know what a “fourteener” is. But you don’t know what a “turn signal” is.

A bear on your front porch doesn’t bother you nearly as much as a Democrat in Congress does.

Your golf bag has a 9-iron, a 3-wood and a lightning-rod.

People from other states breathe 5 times as often as you do.

Having a Senator named Nighthorse doesn’t seem strange.

Thunder has set off your car alarm.

A sudden loss of cabin pressure is not a big deal.

“Where we’re going, we don’t need roads!”

You know where Doc Holliday’s grave is.

You can recognize the license plates of all 50 states on sight.

Driving directions usually include ‘Go over ____ Pass…’

You’ve used “checking for ticks” as an excuse to get someone naked.

You’ve gone skiing in July. You’ve gone sunbathing in January. They were both in the same year.

You get a certain feeling of satisfaction from knowing that California and Texas are both downstream

You know the elevation of a town, but not its population.

You never pack away your coat and sweaters.

You can name only two people you know who were actually born in Colorado.

You call tumbleweed “groundcover”.

You love your Broncos, your Avs, your Rockies, Nuggets – well you can’t have everything.

You or someone you know plays golf 12 months of the year.

You don’t have AC in your home, but you use it in your car all winter long.

If it snows in the morning you expect it to be gone by lunchtime.

You can name the states that make up the Four Corners.

You know what and where the Continental Divide is.

You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from Colorado.


Sleepy Drew

The house got really quiet on Monday, and I wondered what Drew was up to. I walked out from my laundry folding and found Drew curled up on the couch and fast asleep. Poor little guy. He has been sick the entire week with a fever, sore throat, tummy ache and head congestion. He was just too exhausted to stay awake.

My Sweeties

Yesterday I plopped down on the chaise lounge and put my hands on my head.

“What’s wong mommy?” asked Drew.

“I have a headache.”

“Oh.” and then he kissed my cheek to make me feel better and start rubbing my head with his tiny little hands.

Then Beau, who was struggling to get up on the lounge with us, finally made his way up. Seeing his big brother give mommy a kiss, he, in his toddler way, stumbled forward and gave me a kiss as well. He must have felt like he needed some practice, because he kissed me many times. (This is his first attempt at kisses, by the way.)

I love my little boys.


After months and months of anticipation, I have finally completed another batch of pottery. I hope to be turning out peices on more of a regular basis. The more I do this, the more I enjoy it, and of course, there is always room for improvement. So without further ado, here are the photos:

The Drew Vase: made especially for Drew one night when he came to see what mommy does at pottery class.

The Butter Bell: also known as a French butter dish, I believe. Butter is placed into smaller “bell” and then water is put in larger container, keeping the butter smooth and spreadable, while keeping it fresh.

Top of the butter bell.

My Lopsided Purple Bowl: For sale: $15

Lovey-Dovey Mugs: For Sale: $20 for the set.

I Am From

I am from lean-to chicken coops, from cheetos and Plum Candy, and Lip Trip to protect my lips from the wind as I snowboard down Sun King.

I am from the cozy little, one room with a loft, log cabin, nestled by the chilly resevoir.

I am from the aspen trees, the heart shaped leaves, fluttering and clapping in the breeze.

I am from ambling down unknown (by us) country roads, and fun-loving, from Summer and Dirty Al and Grandma Bunny.

I am from the eating dinner past eight p.m and laughing at bathroom talk at the table, and having belching contests with my two sisters.

From being told there were children somewhere else in the world that were starving while I refused to eat my ginger flavored veggie burrito, and “can’t never could.”

I am from the Bible Church, memorizing Psalm 100, having a puppet show for Sunday School, and singing the Music Machine. (Theres’ no other gadget that you’ve ever seen.)

I’m from Colorado and California, from fried burritos, chips, salsa, and beer, and lush, colorful salads.

From the concert at the Vineyard, where my best friend told me about the drummer, and I noticed him checking me out, and he later became my husband, and from a mother and father who prayed for him when I was a little girl with pigtails.

I am from Grandpa Al’s old chest, the drawers in the buffet table, my mother’s knick knack cabinet, from the blood, sweat and tears of three days of labor, from being fought for, from being prayed for, from being happily given away.

I stole this inspiration from Faith. You can find the template here, should you decide to do it yourself. Let us know if you do, so we can read yours too.

A Crazy Week

Well, this has been one crazy week. Let me give you a little update on everything. I decided not to continue teaching after last week. I really enjoyed teaching, and if anything, I know that I can do it now, however, after talking with my dear hubby, we both came to the same conclusion: we were dreading the next three weeks of me being gone. After talking with my mom about the job and so on, she decided she wouldn’t be going back either. We both think it will be best for her to take a good chunk of time off and focus on herself, and my dad, and getting well. So I also thought it would be better for the kids if they have the same teacher for the rest of the year. I may go back to finish at least one project with the seventh graders though. They were really excited about the claymation project, and so was I, so I’d really like to be able to finish it with them.
It turned out to be a really good thing I decided to not continue the teaching thing, because (and unfortunately) it turned out that my mom was needed down here this week. My poor grandma needed her care after taking a spill last Friday night and spiral fracturing her pinky toe, chipping her ankle bone, possibly seperating a rib, and getting a bruise and bump the size of Manhattan on her fluffy white-headed noggin. Needless to say, this was pretty stressful for all involved (and let me say, the receptionist at the ER didn’t make it any easier for us.) Yesterday, my body had apparently had enough of all my internalized stress, and forced me to lay down with a migraine.
Today I feel much better and much less stressed. My grandma is doing very well, and we will all be helping her out with what is beyond her reach. My mom is headed home to my dad. And I get to hang out with my best bud tonight and watch a chick flick.
All has been crazy, but all is well, and will be well, even if a little rain falls here and there. However, if next week even remotely begins to resemble the craziness of this week: I’m going on vacation!