Shoes and Bags

This afternoon I attended the funeral for a woman who lived a good, long 96 years on this earth. I listened to her granddaughter, a dear friend of mine, fondly remember how her grandmother was to blame for her love of shoes and bags. I mentioned this to my husband hours later over pints of Barking Squirrel and a plate of pulled pork nachos.

“Don’t all women love shoes and bags to some degree?”

“Sure, I suppose,” I said. “My love may have shifted a bit in the last little while.”

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Mountain Life

The insulated quiet of the fresh snowfall was broken by our huffing and puffing as we blazed a trail on snowshoes through two feet of new powder. Nadine, our guide from Great Divide Nature Interpretation, pointed out where a moose lay down for the night, the moss that could be eaten and the moss that could not, and where a bear had marked its tree. She told us stories about controlled burns and the devastation the pine beetles were wreaking on evergreen forests. + Read More

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