11–18 of 18 entries from the month of: June 2012

Boulder Yard, Stage 2

June 16th

The haul away:

Stage 2a

What you don’t see here was one of the dumbest things I’ve done in a very long time. Also known as: the day I accidentally gave away my boyfriend’s scooter.


Stage 2a

I posted to Craigslist that I had pulled out some gardening and lawn equipment. It was in the driveway and people could help themselves. When I came back the next day, his scooter — also in the driveway — was gone, along with a bunch of the stuff. Of course I had to call him on his business trip, ridiculously upset and tell him what I had done.

Stage 2a

Thankfully, he is very generous and took it in stride — telling me he’d wanted a new one and not to worry. Nonetheless, I am sick. You’d think I would have learned a lesson or two after the time I accidentally donated all of my mom’s sweaters to Goodwill in the middle of a Phoenix summer. (In all fairness, they were stored in my closet in trash bags and I thought they were marked for donation.) I am apparently very good at giving away other people’s stuff.

This should be on my warning label.

Not my best move.

Stage 2a

However — watching these gentlemen carrying away 2 full trailers and truck loads of the other stuff, leaving a clean slate for a new backyard? A happy moment.


Posted in
Colorado, Flora and Fauna, Happy Hippie
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Boulder Yard, Stage 1

June 14th

I love me a good project — especially those that require problem solving, frugality, creativity, organization techniques and provide a place for my copious energy. Bird is away this week at a fancy conference in California. In lieu of joining him, I spent the flight money on a hauling service, bbq, patio furniture and landscaper.

Don’t get me wrong. A couple days in a cushy hotel with room service and a pool is exactly what I could use right now. However, a summer of outdoor fun is a much better long-term payout.

See, his yard is a bit of a jungle. A jungle with 20 years of discarded stuff between the vines.* And I love to spend time outside — even if that just means sitting in the backyard to enjoy dinner. To make this a reality, I’ve been waiting patiently (pacing and rubbing my hands together) to tackle all of this when he couldn’t shoo me away.

To be clear, he likes me. He puts up with my energy and need for organization.

Front before

Hi! You can’t tell but there is a ton of junk hiding behind those tree branches and just around the corner. 

Three hours after dropping him off at the airport:

Hauled away!

Kinda deceptive that this doesn’t look like the Mount Everest of stuff from this angle. It was. 

Stage 1: haul away unwanted and discarded items. Trim back significant tree limbs. CHECK.

Stage 2: have yards mowed and trimmed. Have garden refuse hauled away. Complete a couple project inside.

Stage 3: set up new bbq and patio furniture for a summer of backyard fun that doesn’t require machetes and metal detectors. Plant flowers.

Boulder Backyard Project

Far too smug for her own good. 


*This is said without judgment. I’m terribly fond of this man, but there might have been a few neighbors who came out to greet me with a slow clap as I drove away.

Posted in
Colorado, Flora and Fauna, Happy Hippie
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June 12th

My friend Brian turned 40 this week. In turn, we had a bit of a fiesta in his honor this weekend at the Heirloom Homestead:

Brian's 40th

Brian's 40th

Brian's 40th

Brian's 40th

Brian's 40th

That cake was awful. I made his very favorite birthday cake, including a frosting that started with a roux. And he LOVED it.



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Celebrate!, Colorado, Community
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Sanctimonious CS

June 11th


My friend Kent chides me when I climb on a religious soap box (often after a glass or four of vino) that such behavior is “sanctimonious bullshit.” Like the year I gave up Twitter for Lent, but lasted all of 2 weeks and tweeted him to say so.

His response “Sanctimonious, Donley. Sactimonious.”

Well, in these here parts, the summer farmers markets are the cream of the crop. Folks here live for Saturdays, where they wheel their kids in wagons and drag dogs on leashes down to the library parking lot for fresh produce. It is a touch sacreligious to suggest this tradition is anything other than the right thing to do — spending $4 per tomato. Carting glass bottles of grass-fed dairy back to your house on the back of your overly-priced cruiser, nested in hand woven baskets from a women’s cooperative in Ghana. Singing John Denver songs as you whistle while you work. (Song birds on your shoulders optional.)

Fly fishing

Don’t get me wrong. I love eating locally, supporting farmers, a good chorus of Kumbaya, and all that hoo ha. I don’t love over priced crap sold under the guise of being part of a farmers market.  I also don’t love how wholly yuppie this experience feels. Saturday could have been an ad for that ridiculous book, “Stuff White People Like.” 


What is that predator I hear barking from a nearby tree? Everyone! Cover your eggs!

There. I said it. I don’t love farmers markets and I realize that my neighbors may have my head for it. But in this case, it’s sanctimonious chicken shit. If I need a cultural tomato buying experience, I’m far more comfortable adventuring to the Mexican grocery stores on Federal.


Did someone say chicken? YUM.

Speaking of  chickens — Nelson and I headed to a nearby chicken class afterward and guess what? We are turning in the permit and payment today. Coop prep starts this week, including coordinating a ridiculous neighborhood meeting. Also, teaching Nelson chickens are friends not food.*


* My father thinks this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. HEY DAD. ROOT FOR ME. xoxo


Posted in
Cluck!, Colorado, Community
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Leslie Yep

June 8th


Fully embracing my inner Leslie Knope last night, I attended my first ever city council meeting. Item #12 on the agenda: Ordinance No. 1919 — amendment of the City of Golden code pertaining to the special use permits for the keeping of certain animals.

AKA: backyard chickens.

Tour de Coop!

But, before we got to the chicken vote, the following topics were discussed:

  • The city cemetery
  • Boy Scouts
  • Kiwanis
  • Rotary
  • The city circulator bus
  • Schools
  • An upcoming golf tournament fundraiser
  • Rocky Mountain Arsenal Refuge art displays
  • The new city flag
  • Appointments to various committees
  • The summer solstice concert

All buzz words I scribbled down within the first 30 minutes of the meeting being called to order. Seriously. 30 minutes. These people were on a mission — we all took a sip of the Minute Maid Patriotism. We even said the pledge.

And then, the planning commissioner took the mic for his proposal of the chicken amendment. And then they opened the floor to citizens and I spoke, with my heart beating in my ears, about how all this red tape was silly. Chickens weren’t a big deal and they were going to excessive administrative lengths for animals that could “end up as a tasty dinner.”

Those words actually came out of my mouth.

And I most certainly do not plan on eating my chicks. But, as my face burned red, the council laughed and then voted unanimously in my favor. I nearly thanked them for “giving me the bird.”

R2-R3 zones of Golden may now have chickens.*



*And now, I’ve got to:

  1. Complete the application
  2. Pay $40 (previously $450!)
  3. Hold a neighborhood meeting and get approval
  4. Complete coop renovations, including predator proofing the backyard
  5. Find and buy chickens
  6. Figure out what *exactly* I’ve gotten myself into
  7. Avoid my father’s laughter, which I can hear from San Antonio. He’s had this song on repeat since I told him about my chicken dreams.
Posted in
Cluck!, Colorado, Heirloom Homestead
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Fun for Kids!

June 6th

Bring your kids!


As seen on highway 93 between Boulder and Golden.


Read it again.

That’s a nudist retreat that’s “fun for kids.”

Oh, Colorado. Sometimes your hippie ways are even a little too weird for me.


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Cultivating Patience

June 4th

By nature, I am an incredibly impatient person. When I decide I want something, usually after considerable weighing of options and taking myself far too seriously, I want it now. Yesterday. Pronto.



Baby squash

Funny how life doesn’t work that way. Even though we live in an increasingly “gimme now!” instant satisfaction “why didn’t you text me back within 2 minutes?,” culture, the best things take time. Lots of time.


My current list of things that demand patience for the best results: knitting, writing, losing weight — even making a great cup of coffee. French press takes considerably longer than that Via nonsense.


And never mind the tome I could write on how building the right relationships take more patience than one could imagine. Being the best sister, a compassionate daughter, a strong and understanding friend, a doting girlfriend. How these demand setting aside the “ME ME ME” inherent default!


Gardening, too. The garden went in this weekend, which is such a change from my Arizona schedule. I’m planting tomatoes in June. In Tempe, I’d have already harvested the bulk of the crop and would be ameliorating the soil for a-heat-of-summer rest, and fall rebound. In Golden, the rule is you plant after Mother’s Day. I am a couple weeks late, but I’ve got tomatoes, cukes and lots of squash planted with dreams of canning, pickling and dried gourds hanging in the winter pantry. (Also, dreams of one day having un jardin comme ca.)

Oh pesto -- I will be loving you soon

Having my hands in the earth, feeling my lower back ache after hours of weeding and hauling bags of top soil, soothing the blisters on my thumbs left behind by the shovel and broom — all odd pleasures of knowing that with a bit of patience and the magic of nature, this little plot of land will provide nourishment.

One seed, drop of water and ray of sunshine at a time.


Posted in
Colorado, Flora and Fauna, Happy Hippie
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June 2nd

A few photos from the new homestead as things fall into place:

Golden House

Golden House

Golden House

Golden HouseG_2595

Golden House

Golden House

Golden House

Golden House

Golden House

(Somebody’s a little drunk with a newly discovered dog door power. In. Out. In. Out.)


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