Eating

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Hey there, and happy Friday! This early thanks brought to you by sentimental, comfort craving Colleen – because I can eat Thanksgiving all-year-long. Uh-huh. I am the not-at-all ashamed woman wiggling to unstick hot-shorted legs from the naugahyde booth of a chain of comfort food restaurants in high summer. Joyfully proclaiming, “I will have the turkey dinner. Please and thank you.” Only this wasn’t turkey, but chicken. Turkeys are too big and make too many leftovers. For if you know me at all, you also know that I don’t care much for them either, save a few exceptions: lasagna, sesame chicken,  the best sweets. The hubster likes this just fine. Reason No. 1037 our marriage is a match made in H E A V E N. Yes.

And now for the sentimental bits – the napkins are a shade my of my favorite turquoise. The boozy drink is a moscato made absolutely stellar with the addition of Atapino and Wheeler’s Gin, two of Santa Fe Spirits magical infusions of the landscape of my soul. Delicious. Jellied cranberry because childhood and perfect slices. The stuffing serving dish (with snazzy lid that is not pictured) is from my Grandpa, who got it as a prize way back in the 1950s. The little brown jug was my Grandma’s. We used it to pour the gravy with a heavy hand.

And now, for the thanks:

Thankful for my Grandparents, whose treasures litter, in the best possible way, my home. Thankful for how long I had the privilege of knowing my Grandma. Thankful that I know my Grandpa still, that we play, laugh long and hard, and give the best and most tender of hugs. Grateful for my parents. Grateful for their health and caring. Grateful to live in this house in this beautiful city. Grateful for friends near and far. Grateful for the best parts of my family, showing me how to be generous, loving, resilient. Grateful for our favorite four-legger, her joy and tenderness. Grateful for the hubster, his every kindness and sweet love. Grateful for this breath and the one after that. Always.

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Sometimes I question my choice of middle name for that pooch of ours. Beulah is meaningful, but JOY, now that would really nail it! Our girl such a joy-filled creature! Saying good morning: wiggle, wiggle, wiggles of joy. Coming home from the store: wiggle, wiggle, wiggles of joy. Walking? Oh my heavens the JOY of walking! The JOY of eating, and cuddling, and licking, and running, and playing, too. She brings it out in us, too.

I bought her a new collar (the other got sprayed by a skunk – not fun!!). Neon pink with reflective bones, eek! Also, new socks for winter weather, and damn if they don’t look like she’s wearing high heels! The silliness. And how cute she looks in her little coat, too!

A beautiful day in the neighborhood…

Our nephew came down to see us this past weekend, but I didn’t get a picture – rats! We had a grand time of hiking and eating and talking and eating some more. Ms. Juni B. enjoyed her first meal inside at a restaurant – Pub Dog, if you don’t know it. It is the first in the country to allow pets at the table indoors. Though the food was quite tasty, it was a bit of sensory overload – dog sniffs and food sniffs and so many people, too!

A trip down the Rabbit Hole after seeing the highly anticipated (at least for us) Blade Runner 2049, both of which we rather liked. Get the Chicken and Biscuit and the Tweedle Bee. Yessirrreee!

Oh, and almost mandatory photo of Pike’s Peak. Lovely from every angle, that one…

Woke up to that sliver of moon this morning, peering just above the trees.

Some little one is a sad, sad camper this morning, having left a rather sporty jacket and these two dolls at the park.

And finally, what kind of a duck are YOU?

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Thursday evening, our inaugural fire, now that we’ve got the basement space all kitted out. It was cozy and lovely, the hubster saving his best smile of the day for me before playing a little ditty on the piano. I love this house, how, with each passing day, it feels more and more like home.

Friday evening we went downtown, had dinner at our favorite burger place (Bingo!), wandered, bought treats, and sipped coffee, all the while watching Colorado Springs stroll by in shirtsleeves, the last bit of warmth before the snow fell.

We woke up to single digit temperatures and my favorite hush and sparkle of snow, the kind that squeaks underfoot.

I made green chile (awww, sweet Paris) and margaritas, a mighty fine way to keep the chill at bay. Snug as bugs and happy as clams.

Happy Sunday!

All the best angles of our new yard! Our lot is huge, almost double the size of our Portland house and more than double that of our Pittsburgh place, though most of it was taken up by our ginormous house.

It is a shambles at the moment. After years and years of neglect, the back is mostly dandelions, a falling down fence, and the remains of dead trees and shrubs. That big dumpster I told you about? I filled about half of it with branches and the skeletons of six foot tall monster weeds. Fear not! There are a few gems – the snowball bush just above the bird bath, a spindly volunteer of a flowering cherry, a lilac, choke cherry, and three onion plants, smack dab in the middle of the yard. We’ve been using the greens in salads, and will, one fine day, move the plants to a proper garden bed. There, they will be joined by rhubarb and tomato (Sun gold! Cherokee purple!), cucumber, and maybe some ground cherries and boysenberries, if we are lucky enough that they can grow here.

In a wildly wonderful windfall from my friend Jennifer (holla!), we got two massive piles of beautiful stone that we plan to break our backs moving into some pretty configuration involving runoff from the roof, then add masses of flowers, currants, wild roses, and native grasses. Oh, and a patch for herbs and peonies (I already have an order in with Adelman Peony Gardens!), because, well, it wouldn’t be a Colleen Sohn garden without them. No, it would not.

That’s all dreaming, though, at least for now. The inside of the house still isn’t 100 percent hospitable. There’s no shower, but a dilapidated bathtub, no toilet on the main floor, but one in the basement, next to a sink that doesn’t work. BUT, the kitchen counter comes this week, and the guest room is looking pretty snazzy, with a fresh coat of paint, new bedside table, bed frame, box spring, and linens. Just in time, too! Our Pittsburgh friend Megan is joining us today for a visit. We are so excited to see her!

Oh, and the first picture, we’re enjoying a mighty pretty and delicious bulgogi and bibimbap at our new favorite Korean restaurant Shin Sa Dong. Yum…

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The two of us celebrated our anniversary, twenty-three years wed (huzzah!), with a very fancy dinner at The Broadmoor’s Penrose Room. I wore a beaded cardigan and a pearl ring that were once my Grandmother’s. He wore a jacket for the first time since New York city, circa 2004, when we saw A Raisin in the Sun. That time, I wore a snazzy dress and he wore the jacket, the pair of us alone and slightly defeated in a sea of shorts and t-shirts (this is not like Sex and the City!). Thankfully, our disappointment that we had so carefully carted such fancy duds from Portland to Manhattan was short lived because it was high summer, and beautiful, everything warm and aglow with night lights and neon. We strolled hand in hand back to SoHo and our rented apartment, everything New York quiet, the hush of a place that only nearly sleeps.

Friday night, not nearly as warm, but lovely still, with stunning views (oh my goodness, we live here!), was a bit of a dream. Every need considered, every taste bud tickled, amuse bouche, lobster bisque, lovely sweets, I even got a pillow for my back. We ate and giggled and laughed and ate and wondered and ate some more. We felt grateful, for all of our privilege, all that we have and can do.

Cut to my Sunday morning bath, the sharp contrast from Friday, me luxuriating in a tub without walls. Life is good!

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