The town of Aspen is a mix of upper crust stores, quaint brick public walkways with little miniature brooks running through them, bookstores, restaurants, churches, and firetrucks painted with glossy flowers looking like something from the 1960’s. It is eclectic, and charming. A place I would love to call home someday. Continue reading
Don’t lie, you’ve got it all figured out
That smile, has got me spinnin’ around
Don’t even try actin’ like it ain’t no thing
Cause I can see you move a little closer, closer
…and I got in my car, turned it on, and yep, “Don’t Ya” was playing on my radio. This happens to me a lot, like I’m psychic or something. But it confirmed that today was going to be a good day.
Aspen is a life to liveSee how much there is to give See how strongly you believe See how much you may receive (John Denver) I have always dreamed of going to Aspen, Colorado. Stories of mountain air and winter magic from John Denver songs have beckoned to me for years. And here I am finally, in the dead of summer, dealing with altitude sickness (see previous post). I was a bit worried it wouldn’t come up to my sentimental expectations. The landscape on the way reminded me of the Nevada high desert with sagebrush and scruff pine. But as I pulled into my hotel I was excited to see tall pines and high mountains all around. It was as beautiful as I had always imagined. Continue reading
Breckenridge, Colorado. I tried to like it here, but the magic was missing. It is pretty, the town is quaint, but somehow I felt like I stumbled onto the location for “Girls Gone Wild” or some place for a Spring Break binge. Now some of you may be taking notes going, “I want to go there!” But it is not my kind of atmosphere and when a 40-year-old man hit on me and said he wanted to “bang” me, I was not impressed. Does this approach appeal to other women? He was a hot, rich guy, GQ with a backpack, but his raunchy language and his bragging and accusing me of having something wrong with me because I wouldn’t go to his hotel room was not attractive. Continue reading
I’m in Illinois passing through little towns with bowling alleys and wildflowers growing along the roads. Unexpectedly I went to the Caterpillar Visitors Center where I learned that the company started making equipment in Peoria in 1914 and is now making the largest truck out there that carries 400 tons, has 14 ft. tires and is driven 70 percent of the time by women, because they are easier on the apparatus. My mom’s first job was as a secretary in the Napa Caterpillar office and to this day she speaks of it fondly. Continue reading
In my last post I was welcomed to Chautauqua Institute with the bang of the gate descending on my windshield. In Chicago, it was a parking ticket, minus the bang, but still on the windshield. I had parked in what I thought was an unrestricted space, but the next day I had a $60 fine to contend with. I am going to contest it as the spot was not clearly marked. If they expect me to obey the rules, they need to have some sign of visual notification.
Welcome to Chautauqua Institute, “THWACK!” That is the sound I heard as the gate came down on the windshield of my car. Ugh. My first stop on my second journey west started with a bang.