Bitters may help, but rainbows and deer work better

Marilyn and I started down the big hill from her house to the road and onward towards Durango. Destination was the annual gallery walk, which involved several art galleries.

I was anxious to see the art, as one of the galleries shows and sells Ben Nighthorse Campbell’s jewelry. He was a political powerhouse for Colorado for a few years, but his artistic jewelry has lasted longer than the career in politics.

Shortly after we started down the road, I became nauseated and had stomach pain. We stopped in the historical Strater Hotel, where I got ginger ale with bitters. Bitters is new to me, but I thought it was worth a try. We did go through some of the galleries, but I decided to sit the last two out at the Durango Art Council’s open house, while Marilyn went to the other galleries and then picked me up. Don’t know what the problem is, but it’s better today.

We had views of a huge rainbow on our way back, and the photo, while it’s pretty, doesn’t begin to capture, this, the biggest rainbow I have ever seen. In the foreground, we saw white sheets that usually means rain and even hail.

It did rain a bit, but not so much.

Today, I saw the deer outside of Marilyn’s yard and it stopped and seem to watch me looking at it from the window. The cat was out and it acted like it wantedIMG_2256 IMG_2252 IMG_2259 to get closer to check it out, but the sound of the door changed its mind. It didn’t dash away, but walked with purpose, down the hill and then on the road.


Fresh air

Yesterday, I had to leave my work on my future book about my yearlong journey to get outside for some fresh air.

It’s the beginning of the change into fall.  Where I’m staying, the air is fresh with smells of freshly rained on earth and pine trees. Aspens are quaking in the breeze.

I saw in the earth,  sparkling stones in shades of grey, mauve, brown, and various hues of granite and quartz.  And then there is  the bright red vine that twists and turns around a tree and theIMG_2225 large rocks that border the patio.

Below the house, I can see that aspens are changing into yellow. It won’t be long now for the splash of fall color everywhere.

While outside, I was discovered by the dogs as a stranger in their territory until they got closer and realized it was just the guest in their mansion.




Everyday at Vallecito

IMG_2223This is a photo of Marilyn all dressed up for a Kentucky Derby party of the Vallecito Service League. The party requirements were to dress in silver and hot pink. She decorated a hat and wore her silver top that was at one time part of a choir uniform at one time. I was in charge of Buffy and Ginger while she went off to the party.IMG_2224This is a photo of the view outside of Marilyn’s home. I took it through the window. The lake is way up there  below that hill.

I saw a cute little fawn today on the hill next to Marilyn’s house. If you see one, then you know there are more nearby. The humming birds are disappearing from the feeder. Just a few left, I call the lone rangers. They are heading to South America.

Marilyn is going on a hike today and she looked at the directions on the bear pepper spray. I hope she has it down in her memory bank, as I don’t think a bear would wait for her to read the instructions. She’s a smart woman, so I know she’s prepared. The house sits right next to a national forest.


No writer’s blog for me

I’m going over the entire one year blog of my world wide journey, 2012-13 and enjoying reliving the experience.

Soon, it will be ready to send off to a publisher. I’m going to try for a standard publisher, not independent as I did before. It will be a challenge.

Independent publishing is great, because you can make changes, which I have done with my first book, “Too Close to the Sun”. But, I think this book will be have a wider audience….I hope.

So, I have been sitting by the large window over looking the awesome view of pine, aspen trees and Vallecito Lake. I also have a birds eye view of the birds in the trees and bird feeders. They sure work hard for their meals.


Woodpeckers, dog, cat and a view

“That’s the Woody Wood Peckers Song”. Wish I could make that cartoon sound for you. The Wood Pecker drives little holes in the side of the house, while the other birds chase each other around the bird feeders vying for their portion.

It wouldn’t be so bad if the Woodpeckers made nice designs on the wood. Opening the door is the only thing that stops their constant pecking. The sound scares them away, for a bit.

Buffy, the fluffy dog, greets me every morning by peering into my door. The other morning, I woke up and saw two eyes watching me. She was told not to go into my room and she was trying her best to obey, but she really wanted me to get up. When I get up and walk slowly down the stairs, she joins me taking the slow steps, as if she’s helping me in some way.

Chessie, the cat, has bonded with me, to the extent that she sleeps on the bed with me. Last night she kept scooting closer and closer, and her purring was lulling me back to sleep.

I sit by the window at breakfast time and see the awesome view of Vallecito Lake and can’t even imagine how scary and awful the fires were here, over a decade ago.

The fire got dangerously close to Marilyn’s home, but missed it. Several folks’ homes burned to the ground; some have rebuilt and some have left the area.

Mornings are cool, which is the sign that fall is around the corner. I look forward to my favorite time of the year, which is why I chose to come here at this time


My Cambodian adventure on youtube


Hope you enjoy it.

There are changes in the Rockies….me, too!

It feels as if the air in the Rockies is signaling change. Thunder, lightning, then the rain falls. The sun comes up and dries everything. The air is clean and clear.

We’re heading into fall and I’m looking forward to the changing of colors. Green becomes gold, auburn, red, brown, orange and rust. I become in love again with Colorado. I few renewed in the fall.

I’m also changing in the Rockies. I’m thriving on three meals a day, staying in an awesome house, helping out whenever my friend Marilyn, whenever I can.

But, not only am I thriving, I have a good start on the book of my one year journey that began in April, 2012 and ended in April, 2013. I have printed out everyday that I published on my blog, and that means nearly every day. Not many days were missed. Now, the work begins. I need a title for the book and I’m open to ideas.

The next change comes when the YouTube is finished of my one month in Cambodia,with a side trip to Viet Nam. My grandson, Michael is producing it for me and I know it will be great. I went over all of my photos and sent them off to him. He’s a talented and creative guy, and I look forward to see what he creates.


Silas Soule – courageous ancestor

I just finished reading “Silas Soule”, a short, eventful life of moral courage, by Tom Bensing.

The name originates in France, pronounced Soulé, however, Silas’ branch of the family came from Great Britain, so the origin of the French family isn’t known, yet.

Silas Stillane Soulé (my accent placed here) was born in 1836 and died in 1865 by a gun shot by a known ruffian, who had been a soldier with a questionable past.

Silas is buried in the Riverside Cemetery in Denver.

When the young man died he was a hero of the Sand Creek massacre, the massacres that exterminated Indian men, women and children in the most barbarous ways. Silas refused to lead his men into the surprise attack near Denver because Indian Chiefs had been proposing peaceful solutions.

The book speaks a lot of the man, who had humor, wit, charm and moral courage, all of which he demonstrated in his life. He was described as having sandy colored hair and stood with good posture.

He was killed only three weeks after he had been married.

I am related to Silas Soule, but I haven’t learned just how, as of yet. My grandmother was a Soule and her brother, Walter Soule, ran an Indian  trading post on a reservation. I do remember my mother telling me about a relative who refused to take his men into the surprise Sand Creek attack, but I’ve just recently learned about him.

The book explains a lot, but I still want to get deeper into the family history. It surprises me that all this took place less than 100 years before I was born. American history of the white man is still young.


My son’s birthday marks half a century

He is 50 years old today: My son Ron will mark a half century tomorrow, Sept. 7th.

When Ron was a tiny tot, he was a cute curly headed boy  born with determination. He had a machine gun laugh, and a creative mind from his earliest years.

He could get excited about something and wouldn’t stop until he got what he was after. I saw him save all his money for a bike and then, as a school aged boy, ride in a long bike ride into territory he’d never been in before; by himself. He researched the bike ride and I took him where the ride began the night before, miles away from home. He slept on the city’s library grounds until it was time to wake up and ride.

Ron also wanted to play the drums, and when it came time for the purchase of a drum set, at age nine, he researched the kind he wanted and we somehow, found the money for it.  He took his high hat down the train tracks to a hotel where he jammed with the adult musicians. He was a pre-teen at this time.

The point is, Ron has had tenacity from his early years and it has never stopped.

He often surprises me, but then I realize, that’s just him. He inspires me and makes me want to find the same determination to do the activities that are important to me.

He needs all of our love and attention. I love you Ronald Revere Crocker. You make me proud.

Real mountain folks don’t leave

There are still a few cowboys in these parts, but it’s changing by the years. It has become more of a  summer tourist destination than when I lived in Vallecito.

Many folks who live here year round leave when the first snow starts to fall, but the real, down-to-earth mountain folks don’t leave.

I went into the Mountain store this morning and had coffee and a muffin and egg. It’s a store/restaurant/gas station/fire wood and just about anything you could want to purchase. A rustic place with down-home folks.

When I walked in, I told the cashier that I hadn’t been in that store for a long time and last week was the first time.

“Oh, you must be the lady who’s visiting Marilyn. Hi, I’m Rosemary.”

Guess when you’re in a small community, just putting two and two together and you got your answer.

I’m doing a bit better with the 4 wheel drive, but it still makes me kind of nervous being responsible for someone else’s car. But Marilyn is an easy person to please, so I’m getting the hang of it.