Growing Season

garlic! The garden is budding with garlic and onions planted last fall, pea vines and carrots planted this spring. I’ve got micro-greens growing in tires, and Greg is hardening off basil, tomatoes and peppers started in our basement from seeds. Already, we’ve harvested French breakfast radishes—Greg likes them plain, I eat them pickled in salads and on soft-shelled tacos.  One thing about living in the low lands—we sure can grow stuff.  Last year, the forest…

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True Grit

I know most of us have been ho-ho-ho-ing and clinking up a storm all the way through November and December, only to land, as we do every year in January and February, otherwise known as the armpit of winter. With nothing to celebrate in the still too dark days, we count the new minutes of light like pennies and book tickets to Mexico (or wish we could), and otherwise grit our teeth and get on…

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Acts of Faith, part 1

This morning I swore I heard a hummingbird.  Twice.    One of the things I left when I left the mountain were the hummers. For ten years, I harvested buckets of joy on the day when mid-April I first heard their trill. Part of my happiness was that the return of tiny birds meant the end of winter up high and longer, warmer days punctuated by deliciously cool evenings spent on the deck with a…

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One Hot Summer

Hilda by Duane Bryers After weeks of rain, the pin has been pulled on the hand grenade of summer in Colorado as temperatures explode into the 90s. I’d long known I’d been living a blessedly charmed life up on the mountain: Hot was August, when the number of nights I dunked my head in the shower in order to sleep cool could be counted on one hand and I didn’t use more than a fan.…

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