Searching for gold

Here in Colorado, the aspens put on a spectacular fall display -- if you catch them at the right time.

Last weekend Jim and I guessed the timing was right to catch the yellows, golds and coveted reds in the mountains not too far from home. So we packed up Mickey, Lyla and some sandwiches and headed for the hills.

Turns out we guessed wrong -- at least in terms of the aspens at the relatively low altitude we visited (9,000 feet). We've heard the aspens in the high country have turned, but what we saw on our outing were just bits of yellow here and there, with plenty of green still taking center stage. The best colors likely will be this coming weekend.

We still had a pleasant day, though, and managed to get some good photos ... even some of Mickey climbing up into my lap, which the 60-pound pit mix never does. Seems our big, bad dog doesn't get out of the city often enough, and the gravel and brambles were too much for his sensitive tootsies.

Here are the highlights of the day:

Today's question:

Where is your favorite place to view the changing colors of fall?

My swollen heart

Sunday afternoon as I sat out on the patio listening to the waterfall gurgle and the birds chirp and warble as they flitted from the waterfall to the birdbath to the flower-covered vines decorating our back fence, an overwhelming sense of gratitude came over me.

Out of nowhere, my heart swelled with gratitude for my crazy house and overgrown yard and that, despite a house payment that doubled when we bought this house -- and the stress accompanying it when we both lost our jobs relatively soon after -- this is the place Jim and I plan to call home for the rest of our days. I love my house. I’m so grateful for my house.

Yes, it’s a material thing. But this material thing makes me happy and content … and grateful.

After a week of thinking about, writing about, cussing about all the things I think suck in my life, all the things I worry endlessly about, it was nice to suddenly, inexplicably realize a plethora of things for which I’m grateful. Things I’m blessed with that truly trump all the fears, doubts, worries and complaints I let get in my way each and every day.

I’m grateful my family – immediate and extended – has never suffered a true tragedy. We often succumb to fear and trembling over imagined tragedies when the reality is that we have been tragedy free and have it pretty darn good.

I’m grateful I was laid off and given the opportunity to consider and pursue a career path that matters to me.

I’m grateful for Jim, who supports that career path even though it means far less money than the one I previously fell into. I'm grateful for Jim for countless other reasons, too.

I’m grateful my girls grew into such lovely, amazing, thoughtful, intelligent, empathetic women … something I never thought would happen while in the throes of the teen years.

I’m grateful for Bubby. And that I get to see him more often than some long-distance grandparents get to see their grandchildren. And that Megan and Preston happily share him with me -- a consideration not all grandparents are afforded.

I’m grateful Megan and Preston are doing the right thing by my grandchild -- another thing not afforded all grandparents.

I’m grateful for a twisted childhood because it twisted me into an unusual shape. It may be a weird shape, but it’s different. And different is good.

I’m grateful that Jim and I continue to have the money we need. Plus some. Plus lots, considering what many others have.

I’m grateful for those who read what I write, who act like the gunk and junk that flows from my head to my fingers and onto the page and screen is worth reading.

I’m grateful for the unexpected gratitude that filled me up, made me consider what matters, what’s important and what’s worth being grateful for.

Photo credit: stock.xchng

Today's question:

What are you grateful for today?

Photo replay

Related Posts with ThumbnailsMegan's friend Alison is a fantastic photographer, so she's the go-to portrait person when it comes to Bubby. This is one of the photos Alison took to mark Bubby hitting two years of age.

Hard to believe what a big boy he's become in two short years!

Today's question:

How often do you have professional portraits taken, as a family, couple or individual?

Farewell, summer!

Yesterday I stumbled upon -- and posted -- photographic evidence of how wacky my neighbors are. I came upon that photo while searching for photos for a collage of some shots I took around the yard this summer.

Here is that collage:

As we head into fall -- my favorite season -- these are my reminders of how pleasant summer can be, too. Well, minus the 100-plus degree temps, of which I took a photo of the temperature gauge to remind us of the misery we endured due to heat when we're whining and complaining about the cold during the dead of winter.

The photo in the bottom left corner was meant to be a shot of our resident black squirrel meeting up with one of our resident albino squirrels. Unfortunately the white one ran off just as I snapped the photo. Eventually I'll have such a depiction of natural diversity and tolerance to share with you ... once the white squirrel gets a little better about the "tolerance" part of the picture.

The photo in the bottom right corner is a bit difficult to see at that size, but it's a baby robin in a nest in one of our trees on the patio. The nest was visible right from our deck.

In my area, the forecast for this coming weekend makes it ripe for one last fling with the heat -- a glorious hail and farewell to summer!

Today's question:

What will you miss most about summer?

Go ahead, call me a peeping grandma

As I was going through some of my photos to create a collage of summer shots I took over the last few months, I came across this:

It first startled me because I don't know those guys. I wondered what kind of ghostly happenings went on with my computer, leaving such a murderous image seemingly straight from a horror flick in my Picasa.

Then I truly laughed out loud as I remembered what it was.

One day in June when Jim was home for lunch, he called me into the kitchen, saying, "You gotta see this ... but don't go past the window." So as I crept into the kitchen, he directed me to look out the dining room window, where what do I behold but barber duty taking place on the deck of our always mysterious, endlessly bizarre neighbors. Hilarious!

This may be illegal ... who knows ... but I slunk way down at the dining room table and shot this with maximum zoom, right through the window. They never even noticed.

Funny thing is, neither of those guys in the photo are our neighbors and we had never seen them next door before. Even funnier: Later that evening there was a whole new set of guys out there -- including our neighbor, the father of one of the guys -- lined up for their turn while all the others gave advice and compliments.

I think somebody got a good deal on a pair of clippers at the flea market then shared his good fortune with his buddies, calling out, "Free summer cuts all around!"

Tomorrow I will post the collage I mentioned. For today, this forgotten photo was just too funny to pass up!

Today's question:

How often do you visit a hair salon and what do you usually have done? (Cut? color? highlights? lowlights?)

A gran unlike any other

When you hear about a grandma named "Gran," whose the mother to three adult children and has her two grandchildren living with her (along with their mother, too), the picture in your mind likely isn't of a vibrant woman with the most beautiful red hair ever.

Which is why this week's Grilled Grandma, Sherri, is a gran unlike any other! She's all of those things yet just get a load of her picture to the right.

Isn't she gorgeous!?

Of course, there's far more to Sherri than just great hair and a sweet smile. Click over to Grilled Grandma: Sherri to read all about this red-haired grandmother and her adorable -- and funny -- granddaughter and grandson.

Today's question:

If you could have the hair of any celebrity, whose would you choose?

My answer: Susan Sarandon's, hands down.

My life in numbers

I'm not a number person. I'm a word person. Which is why I get a little frazzled when it seems my life's focus is on numbers.

Last week, the numbers of highest importance were the number of literacy tutors versus the number of students in need. As a site coordinator for the local children's literacy center, it's up to me to pair up students with tutors for my site -- a true juggling act when the numbers go up and down more erratically than the stock market. Things finally leveled out, luckily, just in time for yesterday's start to the semester.

While tutoring numbers were top priority for a week or so, they were far from the only numbers battling for space in my psyche. Here are nine more:

1. My age. Yes, it's on my mind more than in the past. Surprised? Nah, I didn't think you would be.

2. My bank account. Unlike the number of tutors or students, my bank account numbers aren't erratic. No, they're just always low. Too low for my liking. Which is why I think about them a lot.

3. My weight. I snack more than I should. Salty stuff. Fatty stuff. Even sugary sweet stuff that never used to appeal to me. Paired with the amount of time I spend sitting on my cuss makes for a very ugly number.

4. Steps recorded on my pedometer. I try daily to get in a high number of steps to lower that No. 3 number. Some days it works. Some days it doesn't. Some days I feel like flushing the pedometer down the toilet so I don't have to know the truth about that number.

5. Rejections from editors. I keep my head partially in the sand on this one. The rejections come, but I don't count them. My agent e-mails to say "Here's another very nice rejection" and I write back to say "Thank you very much for that nice rejection." Then she keeps submitting to editors, I keep my fingers crossed. My agent has faith in my book, I have faith in her judgment. One of these days her e-mail will announce a YES, and I will then count up all the rejections it took to reach that answer. Until then I pretend the number doesn't matter. Yet it does. A lot.

6. Blog stats. Visitors, comments, subscribers, bounce rates. Aack! Why do I keep checking the numbers? These are the numbers I'm most obsessed with. These are the ones I'm most tired of thinking about. These are the ones that make not a whit of difference in my life, yet I still obsess over them. Why?

7. Posts not yet read in my Google Reader. I really want to read them all. Honest. Mostly because I have a feeling at least a few of those bloggers -- my friends -- might be as obsessed with their numbers as I am with mine, and I hate to think my not clicking to read might add to their digit distress in even the smallest of ways. Besides, most simply have some really cool things to say that I don't want to miss. I will get through them. Eventually.

8. Books not yet read in my review piles. Spending far too much time on No. 6 and No. 7 has left me with more books waiting to be read and reviewed than I care to admit. Friends have graciously offered help and I've declined any new books until I get through my current stack, yet I still want to kick myself for letting this get so out of hand. And will continue to kick myself until the number of books gets pert near zero.

9. Days before I see Bubby. I thought there'd be a visit in October; now it's not happening. Which means there are 71 days until I see my grandson at Thanksgiving. That's a number I don't like. Maybe I'll get lucky and No. 5 will become a non-issue (meaning I get a big fat YES from an editor!), which means No. 2 would see an uptick, which means I could buy a ticket to see my grandson sooner than Thanksgiving.

Which means No. 9 could be removed from my list.

Or replaced by another number of concern.

Of which the odds of happening are pretty darn high.

Even though I'm really not much of a numbers person.

Really!

Photo courtesy stock.xchng.

Today's question:

What numbers are currently causing you distress -- or elation?