The adventures continue. I drove to a shop between Carbondale and Glenwoods Springs yesterday based on their Ad in a magazine. While the Ad was drool-worthy, with an old Farmhouse table with a zinc top, and an old enormous wooden mirror I would have bought on the spot, those were long gone. The rest was interesting but nothing worth dragging/shipping back to Dallas. Which brings me to this notion: no matter where you go, everybodys got the same old, same old, unless we're talking antique pieces. I'm more of a Gustavian, Farmhouse French, with a curve ball of English and Belgian thrown in. Think Vintage Living, in Snider Plaza, minus the price tags, and while not exactly the look I like, it's close enough for description purposes. And I thought I might have scored something here..... Damn.
I am thrilled to report my friend's surgery went perfectly with the best possible outcome: no node involvement, and reconstruction was begun. Prayers were answered and while I'm sure she feels like a truck hit her this morning, there are drugs for that, and healing has begun. And, there are wonderful Angels in the world, one specifically named Adre', who emailed me last night offering her help to someone she's never met, because she's been there, too. Women rock. **I'd never want to be a man.
Yesterday afternoon, we drove to Maroon Bells, a famous often photographed area that left us almost speechless. The leaf color was outrageous. Fred had a brilliant idea to try to photograh out of our car's sun roof, until I pulled the plug on that idea. When you can get out of the car to shoot, what exactly is the purpose of shooting through the sun roof?? ** Must be a guy thing....I don't get it.
One of the pups below just howled. I may have to go visit.
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