Green Gold

I'm giving you a sneak preview of my backyard masterpiece. I like to refer to it as 'The World of Sarah'.

I'm not sure why I've felt the need to hoard what I've been pouring my heart and soul into. I guess that you can say that it's been my own personal oasis of sorts, or good therapy.

Over that past few months I've spent countless hours working my to my hearts desire out in the back yard. I haven't let anyone in to see it, short of Chris walking through occasionally to me how to administer my labor- he doesn't realize that he's speaking to deaf ears.

Today, my sweat, blood, tears- and a few cuss words- have paid off in the currency of greens.

Not just your run of the mill lettuce, but sun-grown, love-fed, 100% nature raised greens. I harvested an entire colander of this green gold. I had been planning to save it for dinner tonight, giving Chris the opportunity to partake in my miracle, but instead I sat in the dirt and ate the whole colander- with my dirty filthy hands...and loved every bite of it.

Hey Honey -I'm going that way

A Picture Story of a Day in the Life of Chris

"Hey honey- I'm heading that way"

"Hmm"

"Radio Check-check"
"Copy"

(drive...drive..driving more)

(Hmm...that's a darn good Tow Job)

(Ohh, too much glue on the last patch job)

"Honey, it's still safe. Yup, still good....o.k., maybe I'm landing now."

What were they thinking?

Thus far, during my short time as a resident of the state of Colorado, my favorite place to 'get away' has become the Seaman Reservoir.

The Seaman is a huge reservoir located a few miles up the Pourdre River Canyon, and in my opinion, it's got the best of both the worlds: a little sage and high desert sand, and a whole lot of water.

This past week we went for a hike to the far side of the lake (my favorite place within my favorite place), and we attempted to go swimming. It's been unseasonably warm here in Fort Collins for the month of May, so at the time it seemed to be a brilliant idea. The reality is that we spent 20 minutes standing thigh deep in freezing cold water, calling each other 'chicken shit'.

Yes, we're all talk and no action, but at least our Swedish rears are a bit tanner as result of our unhealthy, competitive nature.

The French named the Canyon 'Cache le Poudre', after the gun powder that they stashed there, but those of us who haven't mastered our French drawl, pronounce it as "cash luh pew-der".

So when our friends asked what we had been up to all day, our reply was: "We went swimming in the See-man up the Pew-der...."

Really, what were the French thinking?