Ready or not, here we go

Look out, 2014, we're comin' for ya.

Cheap sunglasses make for better reality

If I can only see them with my sunglasses on, are they really there?

It was 68 degrees today. I have no idea what season this is.

This

Around this time of year, I start getting the annual question from my coworkers: “So, what are you doing for the holidays?” I don’t really “do” Christmas as I’m not Christian and am possibly the world’s worst consumer. The first blaring notes of worn out carols can send me fleeing commercial establishments, or at least scrambling for my earbuds. American excess seems to peak with this season and it can make me irritable.

As a kid, I was pretty into Christmas. Each year looked something like this:

Now I find it kind of embarrassing how many presents were stacked up around me every year. I have no siblings and I never wanted for anything as a kid. There was always enough and then some.

Last year I skipped town to avoid any holiday madness and that turned out to be a very good plan, but this year I’m sticking close to home. I've discovered that keeping myself busy is key to keeping myself sane, so I checked around to see if anybody needed help with anything. I found more than enough needs and the answer to my coworkers' question.

I’m baking apple pies and dropping off welcome baskets for these folks and sorting and distributing toys with these guys. My shopping list last weekend included socks, underwear, slippers and shampoo for the teens and boardbooks for the little kids. Not piles of toys and gadgets, just the basics. And I'm raiding thrift stores for books for my friends' kids whose need for reading materials is outstripping their parents' wallets and spare shopping time.

I'm lucky. My daily needs are minimal and once in a while I can just make up my mind to get that big thing, eat at that restaurant or go to that place. The needs in my town, not to mention on the rest of the planet, are staggering. There are high school-age kids on our streets without shelter or necessary services. Parents who've lost jobs are choosing between groceries and presents for their kids. And there are typhoons. And civil wars. It gets overwhelming.

I accepted that I couldn't fix all the things and just picked out a few. All of it counts. Some kids will get socks and a really big pie and some parents will go home with gifts to wrap for Christmas morning. Hopefully some kids in some other countries will get food and warm shelter. I know I tend to focus on the negative aspects of the holidays, but I still think kids should get a chance to enjoy them while they're still kids. Hell, they should just get a chance to be kids year round. I got to.

What am I doing for the holidays? I'm doing what I can, because I can. Plus, I'll get to bake (which I love) and help organize some chaos (which I enjoy), so we all win.

Oh, and Mom, the bag donation to Project Night Night is your Christmas present. I know you'll approve.

Thanks to Zac, Tom and Jenny for the inspiration.

On a walk

I'm thankful for times of plenty.

For scars.

For room to breathe.

For little bits of color.

For the things that were lost.

For those things I come across that I can't explain, but like anyway.

For those days when I think I'm alone on the planet.

For chances to start again.

 I'm thankful for all of it.

Traditions

My first Thanksgiving out here, my friends coaxed me out of the city and I brought this stuffing with me from Denver to the mountains. Instead of the usual sitting-around-watching-football/parades-and-snacking-on-appetizers I was accustomed to, we hiked up to Hanging Lake in the snow, expending enough energy to make the single packet of saltines in the truck worth divvying up for the drive back to the apartment. The hike was my first venture into the high country and made every bite of the meal we had afterwards that much better. Getting out of doors before sitting down to gorge has been my holiday tradition ever since, even if I'm hiking solo or cooking over a camp stove.

This stuffing's got everything you need in one, neat casserole dish. It's adapted from Bon Appetit magazine from 1994 (I just realized I left out the dried cranberries all these years) and makes 18 cups, so, unless you're feeding an army and have humongous pots to cook in, you may want to scale it back. It does freeze well, so leftovers shouldn't be a problem if you even have any.

Sausage and Apple Stuffing

14 oz white bread cut into 3/4" cubes (12 cups)
1 lb sweet Italian sausage or your favorite sausage substitute
1/2 stick butter
6 cps sliced leeks, white & pale green parts, about 3 leeks
1 lb tart, green apples, peeled, cored and chopped
2 cps chopped celery with leaves
4 tsp poultry seasoning (combo of thyme, sage, marjoram, nutmeg, salt and pepper)
4 tsp chopped, fresh rosemary
2/3 cp chopped fresh parsley
3 eggs, beaten to blend
1 1/3 cps broth

Preheat oven to 350. Divide bread cubes between two large baking sheets. Bake until slightly dry, about 15 minutes, and cool completely.

Saute sausages in a large, heavy skillet over medium-high heat (or medium heat with a little oil for the sausage substitutes) until cooked through, breaking up chunks with the back of a spoon. Transfer sausage to a large bowl.

Melt the butter in the same skillet over medium-high heat. Add leeks, apples, celery and poultry seasoning to skillet; saute till leeks soften, about eight minutes. Mix in rosemary. Add the mixture to the sausage, then mix in bread cubes and parsley. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

(This is where I usually stop, since I make it the night before I want to eat it. I cover it and shove it in the fridge and wander off to do something more interesting, like catch up on Agents of Shield episodes and eat sweet potato fries. In the morning, I go for my traditional hike, then come back to finish up the last steps.)

Mix eggs into the stuffing. Preheat oven to 350. Butter a 15 x 10 x 2 inch baking dish. Mix the broth into the stuffing and transfer it to the prepared dish. Cover with buttered foil and bake till heated through, about forty-five minutes. Uncover and bake till top is golden brown, about another fifteen minutes.

(I really should try this with the cranberries sometime. My mom was the one who actually made this at my request when I was in college and we might not have had any in the house at the time. She did all the peeling and chopping and smashing of faux sausages. Thanks to her, I've got a favorite meal that welcomes me home after a nice walk. It's really all you need. Well, this and pie. But that's for tomorrow. If you'll excuse me, I think I hear Agent Coulson calling...)

This is mine

For about an hour on Sunday morning, this bridge was all mine, and no one even had to sell it to me. The sixty-one hours that led up to the walk that got me there were filled with adventures, chance encounters, surprises, wishes fulfilled and a couple of blisters. I'll try to untangle them in the next few weeks.

Taste ALL of the beers!

I wore my pretzels with pride. The theme of my afternoon turned out to be chocolate (surprise). GABF, that was fun.

Hanging on

Snow came last Friday. It wasn't a blizzard, but I took the bus to avoid having to clean my bike and there was talk of chili-making around lunch time. The Flatirons got a pretty dusting, the tenderest plants in the garden lost their fight and I even turned the heat on for a little while. I gathered the last of the zinnias in the night before. One of my cats also stopped eating on Friday.

The sun returned by Saturday morning, but my weekend turned into a whirlwind of visits to the emergency animal clinic (because no animal of mine has ever managed to fall ill during the work week) and a whole lot of anxious waiting. I busied myself tearing down the vegetables, planting crocuses for next spring and watching this year's flower bed residents gather the tail end of their own harvests.

The butterfly smacked at the bee, the mantis lie in wait for both of them and the spider hurried off with his jaws full. It was a beautiful day with a light sense of impending doom.

The local emergency clinic gave back my unimproved cat and a very large bill (but still no answers) as they closed Monday morning and then we were off to CSU, an hour away. If you are ever tempted to take a cat for an hour-long joy ride, let me dissuade you. While the good folks at the teaching hospital poked and prodded my cat, I whiled away a few hours in Fort Collins in the brilliant sunshine feeling ever so slightly miserable. I picked up a copy of Smoke and Mirrors to distract myself, but reading "The Price" might not have been the best decision.

The good news is, one last vet-sponsored sleepover later, I got a mostly normal (though rather shorn) cat back and everyone is back home again. Thanks to Tony at Eco Thrift who gave me a farm-fresh carrot, the girls at White Balcony who distracted me with shiny things and the amazing CSU staff and students who fixed the acute GI issue I brought them.

My friend will knit him a belly cozy and some leg warmers.

Now I just have to deal with the second cat who, after pining away (I thought) in the first cat's absence, claims never to have seen him in her life and growls and hisses at him 24/7. Oh, and when they mention "vocalization and pacing" as a potential side effect of a cat's meds, they're not kidding. There doesn't seem to be an off switch. I love my housemates.

Roaming

Two months of staying put is apparently my breaking point. Wanting to get away from the signs of flood destruction and even more rain at home and the news of self-destruction of our government all over, I pointed Junior south. I drove out from under the clouds after four hours and ate pizza under the Milky Way and the next morning made my way to the land of the antelopes.

The color of the week: gold

The gold extended to the honeycomb that I bought at the farmers' market. I will try it, as suggested in The Ocean at the End of the Lane, in oatmeal over the coming chilly weekend.

While gold was the most prominent color theme, sometimes a little purple snuck in...

Occasionally, there was even red.

Santa Fe seems to have a relaxing effect on me, even if I don't buy into the yoga-pants-wearing, sage-smoke-wafting lifestyle. Most locals are effusively friendly, in spite of their questionable driving skills (the hour ride into and out of town each day was always lively, to say the least). It's a nice place to have little more to do than enjoy the music, nature and art.

Oh, and spending an evening being entertained (for charity) by Neil Gaiman and Amanda Palmer in a little theater owned by George R. R. Martin, with George and Armistead Maupin in attendance was pretty cool, too. When I struggle to find bright spots in my life, I'll remember this evening.

Santa Fe, you won me over, again. And I like your birds.

Because my camera battery was dying, more tiny Santa Fe memories are saved on Instagram, to the right.

End week one

I am now constantly reminded that many of our paved bike paths were designed to double as waterways. The mini wetlands to the right didn't make it, but I'm guessing it would have been worse without them. A trip across town isn't quite what it used to be.

Motivation's been incredibly low this weekend, so I didn't haul debris or sling mud like I thought I might. A friend sent me some photos of trails at a local park as reassurance that the need for assistance isn't going anywhere in a hurry. That made me feel a little better, but this is what made my day...

I was just thinking about him the other day and now he's back. I really needed a Waldo today.