Yeah, I’m always juggling a stack of books. It’s how I roll. Here’s what’s in the current rotation.
The Dark Night of the Soul, Gerald May
Free: Spending Your TIme and Money on What Matters Most, Mark Scandrette
The Circle, Dave Eggers
Consider the Birds, Debbie Blue
Drawn In, Troy Bronsink
How to Become a Food Budget Ninja, Jeff & Crystal Sykes
After reading several obituaries during the course of my job today, I’m struck with the importance of keeping a writer friend or two around until my dying days. Otherwise, the paper could read something like this: “She died. She had two nieces and a nephew. There is no service. Cremation. The end.”
Doesn’t everyone deserve to be celebrated a tiny bit?
Got out the cleaning supplies and dusted off the blog this morning. Fresh, clean look. Feels a little simpler. Figured I really don’t need a header photo when almost every entry I post contains a photograph of its own.
Also updated my blogroll. It is not an exhaustive list, by any means. And almost all of these folks fall into more than one category, but the list is a good starting point. Check it out. There are some lovely, amazing people over there.
French Press tonight at Denver Bicycle Cafe, where several months ago they serendipitously gave me the same botanical mug three times in a row. Because it matches my tatts. Now they’ve put my name on it.
This morning I stood in line for a ridiculous amount of time behind a bunch of folks ordering Starbuck-esque drinks to get a pour-over at one of the newest coffee bars in town. It did not disappoint.
Steam Espresso Bar is the new kid on the block on South Pearl Street, and the closest indie coffee shop to me that does single-pours with really good beans.
I tried not to be too resentful of the people hoarding tables before they ordered. But it’s one of my biggest pet peeves.
I came back after the farmer’s market and had an espresso, read a bit, and had a nice chat with one of the owners, Hani. Steam, you’ve got my business.
Stanley enjoyed a wonderful Saturday outside. He heard that it was cold and snowy in some places in The South, but in Colorado, temps were in the 50s. He couldn’t believe there could be snow on the ground and he could be outside without a coat. It was great.
First he stopped to see the buffalo at Lookout Mountain. Then it was on to a walk through Elk Meadow. It sure was windy there.
He couldn’t believe the row of mailboxes and newspapers at the road near Richard and Charlotte’s. He wasn’t sure he would read the Jackson Sun every day if he had to drive down to the bottom of a mountain to pick it up.
He enjoyed seeing Richard’s treehouse and secretly hoped to be invited back in the summer to sit on the porch of it and enjoy a nice, cold lemonade, or even some of Richard’s homemade ice cream, which he had heard is out of this world. It was beginning to get chilly, so a dip in the hot tub was the perfect way to warm up.
Flat Stanley declared Saturday a success. He was kinda missing Hallie Bramblett, though.