Friendship

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My best love is doing pretty amazing in the guitar department, becoming the king of riffs and lovely melodies. I’m not sure he’s ready to play an entire song, but what leaps and bounds he’s traveled these two years of learning. I am so proud of him!

Another point of pride! My dear friend Liz (Guerra) was a presenter at the El Pueblo History Center in Pueblo last month. It was a real moment of triumph, with a room full of eager listeners, after a long journey of creating unique spaces for healing and teaching. I wish I had gotten a picture that better captures her dynamic energy and enthusiasm for her Mind-Body work.

Mushroom Taco Tuesday! All the homemade things, yes ma’am.

We grilled green chile burgers burgers on the first nice day. I put the chile in the burgers and on top for double happiness and topped it with a chipotle sauce!

If you recall, I am not a cooking show person. I do, however, like cooking on a show, sometimes, if all the elements are right. Like Stanley Tucci’s tour of Italy (I am a sucker for a fine landscape!) or the wonderful Vivian Howard’s A Chef’s Life, which probably went off the air five years ago? Anyhoo. I stumbled upon a few episodes of Ina Garten hosting famous people. I caught Emily Blunt’s giant sleeved appearance and thought her recipe for turkey bolognese looked pretty tasty. My friends, this is (mostly) it and quite delicious, to boot! I shockingly only made one change, which was a reduction of celery to a single stalk. I had an unfortunate pasta dish at a short-lived Italian restaurant in Portland (a connection, methinks), that had a ridiculous amount of it, which obviously made an impression, and wanted no such repetition. Make it and be glad, though it will test your patience, aromatically bubbling away in the oven.

Snow in April, twice. The first was a regular storm. The second started as three hours of rain, followed by fat fluffers accumulating into eight inches overnight. Delight of delights, which melted by the end of the day. That, my friends, is springtime in Colorado!

Hiya! A little bit of everything for you today. First, some lovely morning light illuminating our hang up your hat station. The beautiful tree print on the left is one of the treasures we bought from Lezle Williams at Laughing Crow Studio during our stay in Albuquerque. I love how it harkens back to Gustave Baumann.

I made delicious chocolate cupcakes with torched marshmallow frosting to celebrate a visit from Jeff. We ate at our favorite 503W, walked the Juper-dog, played Firefly (two by two, hands of blue), and this cool-looking city building game whose name totally escapes me. Always a stellar time!

I spent Thursday, Friday, and much of the weekend clearing out the house, Marie Kondo style (this item brings no joy!), building IKEA furniture, organizing both of our offices, and a couple of kitchen cabinets. We have a mega pile of boxes to cart off to various charities and chests puffed with pride at the state of our spaces.

The above photos are what it looks like when you take nearly everything out of a 9×9 room in order to make it marvelous!

A peek into my office closet, reorganized and rather dandy.

The view from my wheelie chair is a goodie! We bought the desk at Crate and Barrel in Pittsburgh, and it mostly did nothing in the basement since moving to Colorado Springs. Then, I got a bee in my bonnet to clear the clutter off my much larger desk and realized the smaller one, with an actual drawer and little storage nook, would suit me better. It really, really does!

It is a heart-filler to stand in the door and see this view! I’ve got my favorite portraits of our dearly departed kitties, a very girly trash can from Grandma Tess, and my desk cycle. I attach a velcro “leash” between it and my chair and am prolly last place in the imaginary races but feeling the burn!

The shelf is another IKEA find and perfect for my highly controlled magpie tendencies! It makes for a lovely display. The cute stuffed animals on the chair are Greg’s. I’ve added my yellow ducky and may take a picture of the cheery trio at a future date.

Brian Patrick Hagman. I knew Brian in junior high, only vaguely, boyfriend of a friend, giant smiled and preppy, winner of the science fair. Fast forward two years, Junior English, and he’s lanky and much more handsome, the best hair at school, seated next to me. No longer preppy, sporting shirts emblazoned with my own recent obsession: SKULLS. I am instantly smitten, duh, duh, duh. Though he has zero romantic interest in me, we are fast friends in all other arenas.

On our first outing, he picks me up in his coolest of cool cars, a red convertible VW Bug. We sail down I-70, hair whipping, a cacophony of tunes and voices shouting over the din. Destination: Mushroom Tables, me a lone female among a sea of skaters, the magic and splendor, joy and ease. There will be more of this and other hangouts, caffeinated evenings, diners and dives, Paris on the Platte, too.

Brian will form a band – Wretched Refuse – named after the Emma Lazarus poem, cementing both his daring and intelligence. He was ALWAYS the smartest person in the room. I’ll attend shows, mostly in shady warehouses downtown: deafening, rowdy, moments straight from fil-ums, and stand in awe of his wit and charisma.

Always open to novel experiences, I organize an evening at a theater above Paris, Sam Shepard’s Seduced. If you’ve seen it, you likely know where I am heading. Imagine being seventeen, sitting next to a boy you fancy, while simultaneously trying to pretend this creepy, long nailed, Kleenex flinging weirdo isn’t simulating masturbation right before your eyes. I don’t think the pair of us ever worked so hard NOT to look at each other.

In that youthful time of firsts, my season with Brian was a source of many: first ride in a convertible, first cigarette (oof!), first and last porno play, first (only?) friend to show up wearing the same shirt without prior planning, first friend to get a tattoo (and later name his second band after it), and first friend with whom I will play pool and stay out until dawn, in one extraordinary two-fer.

That halcyon night into morning, testament to Brian’s story telling prowess, had him conjuring us, as we all wore Army inspired garments, as veterans of Vietnam, our detailed fictional history brilliantly woven from the ether. After a smashing defeat at the pool hall, with me at the wheel, Joy Division on the speakers, we zoomed the back way to Boulder and across the diagonal, to Longmont, nearly Ft. Collins. The laughter and stories, going, going, of our dreams, of landscapes, of Rudy (Ru-dayyy) the Zippo lighter, a gift from Mike Lombardi, also present, though no longer, lost more than a decade ago.

Life separated us, for painful and practical reasons, and this conjuring of memory, a joyful opening of a precious time capsule, the result of me wondering if he breathes still. My kindly friend who never belittled nor diminished me, who smiled, who filled rooms with thunderous laughter, both his own and in response to him. How I loved him. How I loved who we were together.

Two decent snowstorms in two weeks, huzzah!


Peregrine Falcon methinks…

Wonderfully beautiful and delicious Basque style cheesecake – the wild crinkle of parchment serves as the crust, which is why I wanted to try it, as I feel most serve no good purpose. After making it, I saw it on the cover of a magazine and all over the interwebs. Unbeknownst trend follower. Ha!

Jeff came for a visit! In keeping with our usual modus operandi, we walked, laughed, ate very well (see above), visited the library, and played fun games, of course. I love our time together.

Lap dog dreaming…

Thanksgiving Feasting

Downtown Wandering

Mountain Gazing

A Mexican style lasagna, of sorts. Spicy, smoky roasted mushrooms and tomato, sliced butternut squash, chipotle sour cream, and cheese, of course. Delicious!

Never gets old…

Hope your holiday season is off to a fabulous start! Be safe, be well.

Happy Birthday in heaven Grandma Tess. One hundred years!

Perhaps for the first time in my life, I am rife with simultaneous relief and grief. Relief that the shooter was subdued so quickly, grief at the death and damage done. Club Q, the site of my beloved country’s most recent mass shooting, is in Colorado Springs, the city where I live. Greg and I saw our first drag show there, which was amazing: make-up and singing and serious dance moves, but not by us, ha! We were out to support Queen Potted Plant, a friend in town.

At the time of the shooting, Queen Potted Plant was there, celebrating her birthday, her boyfriend, too. She is safe and as okay as one can expect after witnessing such horror. He did not survive. The handsome bartender, Derrick Rump, sweet and kindly maker of our drinks, died.

These are the names of the remaining victims, with love and light to all of their loved ones:

Kelly Loving, Daniel Aston, Ashley Paugh, and Raymond Green Vance

I would also like to mention, with a heart full of gratitude for preventing more loss of life, the heroes who attacked the shooter:

Thomas James and Richard Fierro

My heart is so heavy. No one knows if this is an actual Hate Crime against the Club Q Community, but a body doesn’t enter a place of acceptance, joy, and celebration to commit murder without some sort of hate in their heart.

Because seeking answers is one way of processing my grief, and because there has been more rhetoric than usual aimed at gay people (I’m looking at you, Florida), as of late, I got to searching and wondering. If you are reading this and harbor fear about the Gay Community, what happened for you to arrive at this place? Do you actually know any gay people? Have you been hurt?

If you believe, as I read in several comments, that this was God’s will against gay and trans people for harming children, I must ask, where is the science-based data? To the contrary, I found The Southern Poverty Law Center has a list of 10 Anti-Gay Myths Debunked, which further substantiates my belief that the chance of a child being hurt by a random gay or trans person in a bathroom or a Drag Queen at story time is far less likely than trusted Pastor Bob at church. A few examples:

Covenant Life Church

U.S. Southern Baptist Church

Mormon Church

More food for thought from a piece in Religion News, quoting several studies:

93% of sex offenders describe themselves as “religious.” Pedophilia molesters average 12 child victims and 71 acts of molestation. An earlier study found that out of 561 sexual offenders there were over 291,000 incidents totaling over 195,000 total victims. These are enough victims to fill 2 ½ Superdomes! This same study found that only 3% of these sexual offenders have a chance of getting caught.

Those who sexually victimize children likely have victimized dozens of other children during their lifetime. Not only does this open our eyes to the prevalence of this tragic epidemic, but it should also help to equip us to respond to individuals within our faith community who get “caught” for engaging in criminal behavior against a child and beg for “grace”, claiming that this was the only child they have ever victimized. Based upon these statistics, the offender is most likely lying, which means they are continuing to deceive in order to reestablish trust and access of our children.

I was also very disappointed to learn children are even unsafe on U.S. Military bases around the world, especially at the hands of other children, which circles back to the previous statistics, unfortunately.

Finally, and not surprisingly, I must also mention, if the ultimate goal is to protect children from harm, we must enter guns into the equation. According to the Children’s Defense Fund, in 2019, guns killed more children and teens than cancer, pneumonia, influenza, asthma, HIV/AIDs, and opioids combined. Sadly, for every one of these children, another five were injured by guns. More preschoolers were killed by guns than police officers in the line of duty.

This is where I leave you, but not without a prayer that we may all experience love and safety: young, old, trans, gay, and straight.

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