Under a Red Roof

Spirited

October 15, 2018 in Inspiring, Learning, Loving by Colleen | Permalink

Hello, and happy Monday to you!

Friday afternoon, I had the very special pleasure of attending a Mandala dissolution ceremony honoring the Compassion Buddha. Monks from the Ngari Institute spent three days creating this exquisitely fine and intricate work of art. It was then swept into a pile, distributed among attendees (anyone who so desired), with the remains scattered into Monument Creek.

Why destroy something so beautiful, you may ask? To show the importance of sharing compassion with all beings and reflect the impermanence of life. It also encouraged everyone in attendance (and the world) to let, just as we do each breath that comes, every little thing, joyful, beautiful, sad, and angry, GO. To the winds. To the water. Let it ALL go.

Before the ceremony, I had the privilege to sit with one of the monks and ask about the mandala. It was quite fascinating! The mandala is a two dimensional representation of a three dimensional house or temple, with the Compassion Buddha at the center. Each of the four directions is represented, with food and flowers offered to the Buddha. The copper cups hold water, two of which for cleansing (the mouth and feet), the third, with an added flower, for perfuming the body. This is an offering of our best selves to the Compassion Buddha. The water also represented rain; as rain falls, it cleanses the body, not only of grime, but of unhealthy thoughts and patterns in the mind. The more it is cleansed, the more it benefits the individual and the world, spreading compassion to our minds and others. So wonderful!

end of summer

September 9, 2018 in Exploring, Loving by Colleen | Permalink

Oh gosh, the morning air lately. I wake up chilled and cuddle the hubster while the light changes. Sometimes we chat of all that woke up swimming in our brains. Funny stories, dreams – little and big, rages and raves. Then we’re up and out and walking and taking in the beauties of this great and glorious city. It’s difficult to imagine a better beginning to our day. Geese off to warmer pastures, pools of mountain light, cotton candy pillow clouds. And twice this week, there was snow on Pike’s Peak. I love that mountain from every angle, but boy, how each is enhanced when the wintry robes are on.

We met our littlest cousin yesterday, healthy, happy, and positively adorable. Juniper was so curious and good, hopping up to get a sniff while I cuddled and cuddled and cuddled, before playing guard dog and distant observer. Such sweetness.

It had been a while since I held such a wee babe (eight pounds at the moment), and I am delighted to report that I remain dazzled by every aspect: the tiny hands, tiny cries, rosebud lips, soft sighs and spit-up.

And, as promised, our little herb patch, fruit orchard, and wood store, fenced and protected from our best digger dog. We have two varieties of sage, chives, nectarine, cherry, and plum trees; rhubarb, strawberry, black raspberry, blackberry, red and black currant, elderberry, and gooseberry. What beautiful harvests we have in our future!

Tags: Pike's Peak

And like that, we’re done…

August 22, 2018 in Celebrating, Gardening + Nature, Loving, Making by Colleen | Permalink

Orange Horned Poppy

Hummingbird Moth

Moon Carrot

Wabbit

This and the one above – Apache Plume

Colorado Springs – home of my dreams…

Well, we did it! We hosted our cousin’s birthday party Saturday (and took not one photo of the actual festivities, only the frosting, which was Y U M) and yesterday, a little afternoon garden party for our ever curious neighbors (What on earth are you doing??). What fun! And what a great relief, too, to have all that work behind us and everyone enjoying the beautiful fruits of our labor. There was much laughter, lots and lots of cake, and hummingbirds zooming about. WooT!

To treat ourselves, we’ve pulled not one weed, nor put one plant in the ground (though there are three echinacea waiting). This weekend maybe, but for now we are enjoying long walks to breakfast with the girl (thank you Good Neighbors!), book reading, game playing, and home improvement show watching, because that, my friends, is our JAM.

Happy Wednesday!

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p.s.

Look at that little river flow!!

To the Dogs

August 17, 2018 in Exploring, Loving by Colleen | Permalink

Oh gosh, we are so tired around here. After hours and hours of landscaping and gardening, all that moving to and fro, to and fro, fingers sore, arms so very brown from such labor, I am ready for stillness. To not wonder if I have time to walk with Greg and Juniper come morning or just squeeze in the time to walk. To see the floodway wet with last night’s rain, ducks squawking, sun pennies glittering. To take my time and not wonder what on the list is next. So soon! I am ready and waiting on bated breath. Yes.

One of the sights when I have had time to walk – these little pups stirring up a ruckus, well, really just the chihuahua, whenever Juniper walks by. I don’t quite know how they do it, but they are up at the top of that six foot fence lickety-split quick.

Our happy girl. What luck to have found each other. Indeed.

The two of them together. Happiness!

Last Look

July 17, 2018 in Loving, Remembering by Colleen | Permalink

The hubster and I both dreamt about my Grandpa last night, of him being with us before realizing the reality of his death. Both of us reminded of the truth that the dead never leave us. He is here, beside us, as we type, move, and breathe. Always.

There is serendipity in the dreaming, too. Today, my grandparents house sale is finalized. The last place to smell of them, of sixty years lived well in one treasured spot. The porch light will not be left on for me. No more glimpsing through the windows, across the street, onto the porch, or the Skulavik’s yard. I have taken one last look in the mirror at the end of the hall. Grandma hasn’t swept nor dusted in more than three and a half years. My hand will no longer shhhh down the banister, to the raucous stair creak of a million exuberant Lewis, Sohn, and Johnstone steps. Every game, National Geographic, book, and beloved record, Chicken Fat to Herb Alpert, emptied from the shelves my Grandpa built. A snazzy rack void of his ties. And I, the not terribly sentimental type, weepy at the thought.

There will be traces, however, a beloved photograph buried in a jar. A few pieces of furniture, and the remains of our love and laughter, racing like neutrinos, through every atom of the house.