My dentist’s office building, currently filled to the brim with periodontists, orthodontists and other tooth-loving doctors, is being bulldozed this fall to make way for a Dunkin’ Donuts.
I am both thrilled and chuckling.
It is my hygienist’s worst nightmare.
This rainy, cool weather makes me want to snuggle up on the sofa at Queechy with a good book and a cup of tea and laze the day away. One of my favorite memories that I go back to often in my mind is waking up on a cool late-summer morning to thunderstorms and hard rain on the roof over the loft in the cottage. It’s a recurring memory, as it happened several times a summer during my childhood.
This is the very best dreaming weather. The very best kitty cat cuddle weather. The most wonderful hot chocolate with Marshmallow Fluff weather.
It is a comfort to have a bit of this Columbia County sky here in Denver today.
[ain't it just grand?]
A few weeks back, we met C’s dad, Jeff, to drive up to his friend’s farm in Brighton. Jeff has a goose blind on the farm property and has been friends with Bob for many years.
I’ve been wanting to check Bob’s farm out ever since C brought home a 10-pound bag of onions after hunting geese there with his dad. They were basically the best onions I’ve ever had. We ate them for weeks and each one was perfect.
I knew the farm was big, but I didn’t realize it was 3,000 acres big. The farms I know in Columbia County and the Hudson Valley are generally a few hundred acres – if that (mix in a lot of dairy and orchards). The biggest farm I know about in the county I grew up in is Samascott Orchards – coming in at a whopping 1,000 acres.
Right now, Sakata Farms is finishing up the harvest of their delicious sweet corn. It’s a bumper crop this year. We rode out to the field that had been harvested Saturday morning and ate raw corn off the stalk (C is still thrilled by this!) It was delicious. No butter or salt needed.
Our visit reminded me of stopping by Gould’s farm in the late summer with my dad and brother as kids and picking corn from Gordy’s field. We were dwarfed by the large corn stalks in the small field he had planted near the road, for his friends and family to pick at their leisure.
Bob Sakata is a Renaissance Man for certain. He’s in his mid-eighties but is the brains of the operations behind an incredible business. Sakata ships pinto beans to Mexico, corn to Saint Louis, sells feed to elevators that ship all over the world. Locally, he sells produce to Safeway and King Soopers, but you can find his corn as far away as Maryland.
I did make sure to ask him if he’s ever sold corn in upstate New York. ”That market’s covered,” he said. Oh yes, it most certainly is!
Cheers to a happy corn season!
C and I had the pleasure of attending the gorgeous wedding of a wonderful couple at The Broadmoor this weekend in Colorado Springs.
I was thrilled when I learned our friends were having their wedding at this historic resort. Rarely do we go to Colorado Springs and I’ve always wanted to stay at The Broadmoor. I tend to forget how very different the Springs are from Denver. It’s pine country and angled right up against the steep mountains.
From high tea on our arrival to a bagpipe processional of the wedding guests across the bridge over Cheyenne Lake to the Lake Terrace Dining Room, it was all pretty magical. We stayed out celebrating until the wee hours.
Congratulations, Lisa and Stan! We love you!
This morning, we enjoyed Sunday brunch at the resort. It was incredible.
So many kinds of salmon. [Wish I liked eating salmon.]
And then, we walked the resort’s acres and checked out the rest of the place, including the beautiful pool, retail shops, and many, many chandeliers.
I would like this one for my very own, please.
On our way home from the Springs, we stopped at Seven Falls. Stunning!
Thank you for your prayers and positive thoughts. They worked, and we’re so grateful. Today C’s surgeon, Dr. Andrew Nemechek, met us with good news.
When the three of us got to the hospital (Sarah, C’s sister, joined us) we were seen nearly right away by Jessica, one of the nurses in the practice who took a brief history and vitals from C. She said, “Dr. Nemechek will be in to see you in a moment. Do you want any coffee, tea, juice, water?” We all said no, thank you. But, had I known we would be in the room with the surgeon for two hours, I would have asked for a double shot of espresso.
Our visit was refreshing, relieving, and we’re feeling much better.
It was as if there was no detail of C’s life that was insignificant to Dr. Nemechek. We talked about where C grew up, where he went to college, how he exercises, what he eats, and what he knows right now of his family’s health history. We mentioned that C has been training for a half marathon at the end of October and Dr. Nemechek said he thought that was fantastic. He wants C to run it so he’ll be as fit as possible for surgery in November. He wants us to go to the three weddings we are planning on traveling to this fall.
Next week, C will have a full neck ultrasound that will reveal any other issues we need to know about before surgery. We’ve been encouraged to call Dr. Nemechek’s office with ANY questions or concerns.
As we were wrapping up, we were strongly encouraged to go out to lunch with each other and take a few deep breaths before C returned to work.
We are thankful.
Last Wednesday ended up being quite the day for us and spoiler alert, we did not move forward with our contract on the ranch-y house in University.
There were a lot of factors that led to our decision and one in particular that stood out after inspection was over.
We are suddenly facing a second challenge in our marriage.
On Wednesday, Chris was diagnosed with thyroid cancer.
I hate that word. cancer. I won’t give it the satisfaction of an upper-case “c.”
But it is what it is and we have it and we’re facing it.
When Chris told me about the diagnosis, after the home inspection that evening, we decided not to move forward with the house and concentrate on Chris’s health and being well. We don’t need to worry about mortgage payments or closing costs or hiring movers or being far from the comfort of our neighborhood, building and neighbors.
[from the rooftop of our building, April 2013]
We are meeting with C’s surgeon on Friday morning and will know more from there. In the meantime, we’re thinking good thoughts and know that historically, though this cancer is rare, it is highly treatable and curable.
We are in good hands in our little bit of the world here in Denver.
We are under contract for a house. Again. This time, the contract is even more messy than last time. If you haven’t heard, buying a house in Denver right now is an absolute nightmare. If you have a house in this town and you want to sell it, be prepared to make a mint. Denver is pretty much on fire.
Nearly two weeks ago, we found a place we loved. It’s charming. It’s ranch-y. It’s in a nice neighborhood – a great school district.
Unfortunately, the sellers of this particular ranch-y charming house needed 10 extra days to figure out some stuff with the house they plan on buying with the money we give them for their current house. They asked that we go under contract but allow 10 days so they could to back out if their deal falls through. This put our inspection on hold. The 10-day contract ended on Wednesday. The sellers’ agent called and now their 10- (er, 12-) day contact ends today. It’s 8:00 p.m. Still no answer. Chris decided to go fishing rather than waiting around for our phone to ring. I think that was a fine idea. I guess the sellers have until 11:59 p.m. to let us know exactly whether or not they want to sell us their damn house.
Anyway, this whole time we’ve been under contract, I’ve been thinking about how much I love THIS neighborhood – our neighborhood. The happy place I’ve lived for six years. Why leave? Why expand our square footage? Who needs a yard when we have Cheesman Park?
Who needs a bigger kitchen when Chef Zorba’s is right down the street?
I took this photo and Instagram’d it yesterday on our way to eat at Chef’s.
Mmm. Love it here.
Weekend mornings growing up we usually had some sort of fun breakfast my dad would make for us. On Saturday, it was always French toast, pancakes, bacon or hot chocolate.
And after church on Sunday, if we didn’t have donuts or buttered rolls at church, we’d stop on Main Street in Valatie for six of the best fresh-glazed donuts I’ve EVER had in my whole life. Or, we’d pick up some Freihofer’s powdered donuts from the grocery store. My dad liked plain, my brother liked white powder, I liked cinnamon powder, and my mom liked tea…so it all worked out. Donuts are easy to eat over the Sunday funnies.
But one Saturday morning, Michael and I woke up to a smell unlike the normal weekend smells coming from the kitchen. It was almost exactly like…a dinner smell. Occasionally, my dad liked to experiment. Like the time he discovered the Jiffy Corn Muffin Mix Pancake recipe on the side of the box. He made them with Crisco. It is basically like having a heart attack for breakfast. Truly delish!
But this particular Saturday morning, we stumbled down to the kitchen and saw a small cardboard box on the counter top. In the oven under the broiler was our breakfast.
“What are we having?” I asked.
“Well, something new,” my dad said. ”It’s what people in Texas eat for breakfast.”
The timer went off and the meal was put on our plates next to glasses of orange juice. We took a bite.
“Dad,” Michael started. ”People in Texas eat garlic bread for breakfast?”
“I guess they do. They call it toast. Seconds?”
True story.
C and I spent this past weekend at The Lodge at Vail with wonderful friends.
It was nothing short of fantastic, and just what the doctor ordered. Two nights away in a very comfortable bed, fresh mountain air and lots and lots of sunshine and laughs.
On Friday when we looked at the forecast we were told we were in for highs of 65 and scattered thunderstorms. That was not at all the case. Mid-seventies and loads of sunshine were the order for the weekend.
Saturday, Katie and I took a leisurely stroll from Vail Village to Cascade along the wooded path and back, stopping for coffee and people watching. We enjoyed some great pool time and then I took a late afternoon nap.
This was the view from the balcony of the Lodge on Saturday morning. The Lodge is one of Vail’s original buildings and I think, one of the prettiest (and has one of the nicest views, as you can see.)
For dinner on Saturday night we ate really delish German fare at Pepi’s.
It’s a very European experience. The staff was not too friendly or attentive and we waited FOREVER for our meals and for service really, but it was worth it. Absolutely fantastic. I had Jager Schnitzel and it was heavy and creamy and veal-y. Ugh. So good. Everyone had wonderful meals. C had the Weiner Schnitzel with spatzel. We all shared beautiful desserts. The apple strudel was the table favorite.
Prost!
On Friday morning the alarms went off and C and I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling fan.
“Ugh,” I said.
“I know what you mean,” he replied.
“We need a new mattress. Like, tout suite.”
“Let’s shop tonight.”
And that was that. The Ethan Allen wonder mattress that Chris has had since he graduated from Colorado State ages ago officially bit the dust. It was squished. Ready for the mattress refurbishing happy hunting grounds. We were ready to bid it farewell.
After work we got in the car and headed up to what I like to think of as Mattress Row, though I’m probably the only one who thinks that. Denver is LOADED with mattress stores and there are lots of Mattress Row-type places. That’s because mattress manufacturing is big here. As we learned later that evening, “Denver is a foam town. Mattresses nowadays use lots of foam.” Ah. Well, that explains it.
We stopped at Denver Mattress first, thinking we could then swing by Mattress King, Mattress Factory Outlet and then Sealy Factory Direct (which consists of an open garage door with a few flag buntings and a “deep discount” sign out front.) Once I saw it, I really wanted to go to Sealy Factory Direct first, but C urged me to stick with the plan.
We walked into Denver Mattress and we were greeted by Andrew, who showed us three different mattresses. We told him we wanted firm, but not too firm, queen-sized, comfortable, made in America. Easy, easy, easy.
There was one mattress in particular we loved and Andrew made up a file for us so we could be on our way to continue shopping around.
As we walked out the double doors back to the parking lot we both stopped and looked at each other and remembered how we felt that morning.
“Let’s go get it,” we said. And we turned around and went back inside and purchased the mattress for delivery on Sunday.
It was a smart decision because Friday night and Saturday night we cursed the apres-undergrad mattress. Knowing that we had our new, shiny, foam-y mattress coming, made our current mattress seemed worse than ever.
Today came around and tonight we’ll sleep on the new firm-but-not-too-firm-queen-sized-made-in-Denver-mattress. It came with two memory foam contour pillows for extra comfort and this morning, we decided to top it off with a trip to Bed, Bath and Beyond for some as-seen-on-TV contour memory foam leg pillows.
Yes. We are officially entering a time in our lives when we need to be COMFORTABLE in bed. In fact, you can even soup-up the particular mattress we purchased by adding a package to make the whole thing fully adjustable — the mattress will raise your head or your feet or both if you want to be folded like a hot dog in a bun. Yes, we BRIEFLY considered adding that package.
Sign us up for The Clapper next.
Sweet dreams to us tonight.
