Month: May 2022

I am grateful to be home in the US, despite the tragic news portrayed on media this morning. I intended to post a blog prepared before my vacation but reflecting on the trip with gratitude seems a way to feed my soul today.

I am grateful for our opportunity to walk/hike the Cotswold Way in England. Importantly, we were healthy and happy during our 10 days together with few glitches.

I am grateful for being physically and mentally able to walk the entire 102+ miles. We added additional miles because we were lost once or twice but that was all part of our experience.

I am profoundly grateful for my seven travelling companions. We encouraged and supported one another unconditionally. We are better friends now than when we started.

I relished the humor and laughter we shared during the sojourn.

The landscapes of our journey enthralled me. The undulating green hills, pastures and crop fields, and thick woods were a delightful contrast to the majestic purple mountains that I experience each day in Colorado.

I am grateful for the four-legged animals we spotted. Cute and well-behaved dogs were on the trail, but almost no kitties. I LOVED the sheep. The lambs were about 4-8 weeks old and often frisky. Walking through pastures and seeing them did not disappoint. We also encountered pheasants, squirrels, rabbits, and one deer.

The magnitude of the wooded areas we treaded were a pleasant surprise. Experiencing beech and horse chestnut trees as a canopy that were hundreds of years old was an unexpected delight. Every day the birds sang almost nonstop, especially in the mornings.

I am grateful for all the voluntary wardens who keep the trails cleared and accessible. They also maintained the stone walls that were in various states of repair. Trail benches were dedicated to local citizens and wardens who had loved and enjoyed the Cotswolds for decades.

I loved meeting the people who provided hosting in the B & B’s where we stayed as well as locals who offered insight and directions. We felt welcomed and encouraged.

I was always grateful for a cold beer/ale at the end of our day and the conviviality of recollecting the best parts of the daily walk.

I am pleased that I, as well as all my travelling companions, tested negative for COVID so we could return home.

I am grateful that I had the financial means, physical ability, and social connections to make this trip. I feel privileged to have experienced this pilgrimage.

I am glad to be home. I look forward to reliving the memories and to planning future journeys to explore this diverse world.

I am out of town and originally planned not to post a blog. I intended to pause for a week. However, I started to reflect on what it means to pause, take a deep breath, regroup, and then carry on again.

A Coca-Cola commercial in 1929 first used the phrase, “The pause that refreshes.” For almost 100 years, that phrase has come to mean more than simply having a cold drink. Pauses are good.

A conversation on taking a pause surfaced in the media last summer when Simone Biles announced that she would not compete in all her Olympic gymnastics events. Some people were upset with the decision but for the sake of her mental health, it was necessary to take a break and make herself whole again.

Putting my blog on pause feels good and gives me a sense of freedom. Not only resting from a timeline but also taking a larger hiatus from my daily routine at home is refreshing. I am taking opportunities on this vacation to appreciate my time away and to contemplate what I want to write in the future. Stay tuned!

I am not a huge sweets lover, but I never met a donut I would turn down. My other sweet downfall, although I am more persnickety, is PIE. I like fruit pies and have a high bar of expectation for these delights.

Growing up in the Midwest may have something to do with my fruit pie affinity. What is more American than pie? I was spoiled, however, with the pies that my mom and aunt made because they were hard to duplicate.

My favorite pie is apple pie made by my mom. Since she passed away three years ago and made far fewer pies in her later years due to declining health, I have not had my favorite apple pie for a while. She taught me how to make pie, but I was never that good with the crust. I can, however, make the apples taste much like moms.

For five years I participated in RAGBRAI (Register’s Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa). I subsisted on pie on that ride. It was the best of days when I had pie for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Because most apple pie did not taste like my mother’s, I opted to try variations of rhubarb pie as I rode across the state. I had wonderful pie, and other times, not so great.

We have a diner in Estes Park called, “You Need Pie.” I walk by it most days when I go to the lake. I usually do not carry any money with me, or I would be tempted continually to stop in for a piece “to go.” They serve regular diner food but also have a selection of pie items: quiches, cheesecake, and usually more than a dozen fruit pies—purist pies like cherry or apple, and combination pies like strawberry rhubarb, blueberry apple, and the like.

Twice a month I indulge in a piece of pie. I savor it as an evening treat. The sweetness reminds me of my Iowa roots. I rationalize pie as a reward for having had a good day of hiking or volunteering in the park. On chilly days, pie is comfort food. On warm days, a little ice cream on top is refreshing.

Although I do not NEED pie, I want it as a special indulgence to nourish my sweet tooth and my soul.

I am obsessed with cats–little ones as well as big ones. It isn’t that I don’t like dogs and other animals, but I continue to develop an affinity for cats including the ones that own me and the ones that own the universe.

Three types of cats dominate my life: bobcats, mountain lions, and housecats. The first two are a result of where I live in the mountains of Colorado. I interact with cats every day.

I see bobcats frequently where I live. In the winter, their tracks are evident daily across my driveway in newly fallen snow. These medium sized cats are territorial and solitary. They have black bars on their forelegs and black-tipped, stubby bobbed tails-thus, their name. This predator inhabits wooded areas and meadows. Bobcats hunt rabbits and hares, and consume insects, chickens, geese and other birds, small rodents, and deer. Last week I opened my front door and saw a bobcat staring at me with a ground squirrel hanging out its mouth. It quickly ran off with its breakfast.

I have never seen a mountain lion in my years of coming to, and now living in, Colorado. They are tan to gray in color and can weigh full-grown between 90-150 pounds. They share the space wherever deer live. These big cats thrive in steep, rocky canyons and mountainous areas. People frequently ask me when I volunteer in the park if they should be afraid to hike because of mountain lions. These cats almost never attack adults as we do not resemble their natural prey. Someday I hope I see one from a great distance-100 yards or more. I sometimes come upon their tracks when I hike in the Deer Mountain and Lumpy Ridge areas of the park.

I write regularly about my adorable house cats. They would be happier if they could go outdoors but that is not safe where I live. They make me smile daily and bring me immense joy.

Talking about cats reminds me of a friend who passed away last week after well over 80 years of being a “cat woman.” Anne was in my weekly writing group and one of my biggest blog fans. Shortly after I met her, she announced to me that she was really a cat living in a woman’s body. She loved cats. A little sign along her driveway said, “Cattery West.” Friends found her resting peacefully in her bed having had an apparent heart attack. Her beloved old kitty, Max, was watching over her. I am sure he is grieving for the loss of this kindred spirit.

Little and big cats, and the people that love them, make the world a better place. They bring humans joy as we interact with them. Meanwhile, cats do their part to keep the social and ecological world in balance.