Me

and then i sit in the quiet, holding my warm cup, watching the trees move in the wind.  and i pray and think and figure myself out and my soul is settled and the world is ok again.

Coyote Cat

"There's a coyote cat in our front yard," Audrey states matter of factly after stepping outside to check the temp this morning.  "Oh," Graham and I brush it off, "There's a cat out there, eh?"

I back the van out so four kids can jump in - and by the corner of the house under the pine tree sits a sick looking, slow, skinny coyote.  Here comes three year old Miles, skipping along shouting "hello!", with mom right behind him.  "Get in the van!" I yell.  Audrey and Neve are yelling, laughing, jumping as they watch from the safety of the mini.  Austin and mom come toward me as I hand her Corrina and say, "There's a coyote in the yard - careful!" Coyote Cat jumps up and hobbles toward the back yard fence.  (As I write this tonight a pack of them is celebrating in the open space nearby - it's probably just a party to welcome lost coyote cat home, right?)

The term "Coyote cat" is thrown around in the car on the way to school, along with theories of how it became a coyote AND a cat.  Austin finally pipes up, "There's no such thing as a coyote cat, it's just a coyote." "Nope, it's a coyote CAT!" insists Audrey.  She's proud to have made this dangerous and rare discovery.  Three of four kids continue to theorize the origins, habits and patterns of behavior of coyote cats as we unload in the school parking lot.  Austin shakes his head with a hint of a smile.  "There's no such thing!"  His voice of reason is drowned out as his little brother supposes "...and then the coyote ATE the cat and that's how the coyote-cat was made."  I'm laughing inside, this couldn't get any more entertaining.  Thanks, kids, for infinite imagination and energy peppered with reasonable facts in this little foursome.  I wouldn't trade this morning with these kids for anything.

Telluride Bluegrass 2015

Another summer solstice has come and gone and it was our best San Juan Mountain visit yet. 

We met and caravanned with the Railsbacks and met the Eurys at our Placerville cabin - or should I say resort?  But let me not get ahead of myself...

The festival was different this year.  Lots less bluegrass during the day, sadly.  Why call it a bluegrass festival and fill stage time with a rock guitar and blues/end rant.  We still love you, T.  We'll just go in the afternoon next year.  Our kids are on about a four hour timer, so better 3-7 pm than 11-3.  As we were leaving the music was just gettin' good.

yep, that's what mood she was in.

not having that much fun.

I didn't have a beer.  It was too hot and the kids were too needy and I hadn't slept the night before, so a cold beer in hand (which was one of two goals for the festival) didn't make it through the matrix.  I did, however, pick kids up and put kids down and answer questions and repeat 'stop whining' and offer them snacks and drinks and repeat 'do you need to go potty' and encourage Graham to go enjoy himself while I watched the kids and wonder where Graham was.  I did those things.  
 
And I danced for two seconds, which was goal number two.
 
There was a fantastic play area inside the festival but out of the blistering sun.  We discovered its potential as we were leaving.  Shaded playground, portaloos (is that what they're calling them these days) and an ice cold stream.  That's our spot next year.
 
Ben was there.  He's hooked.  
 
Then we trekked back to the gondola then van then cabin.  And that was the festival.  Still totally worth every minute, still totally our annual thing.
 
Ah, the cabin.  I forgot to sign the guest book.  But a kid scribbled crayon on the page where I WOULD have signed it, so that counts for something.
 

"of course we'll go to sleep right away with no problems!"

Bunk buddies

There were two favorite things at this cabin-resort.  An informal poll showed the outdoor shower won by a nose, followed by the master bedroom with a bed that rolls out into the mountain night, one story up from the pine needled ground.  We saw stars.  The little dipper.  Pine trees swaying in the bugless night air.  A shooting star, for reals.  That bed was my absolute absolute favorite. 
 

Morning view from roll out bed

View from my side of roll out bed

Kids playing on roll out bed

I'm not one to enjoy being naked outside.  You'll never catch me on a nude beach in the south of France (I might be there, but you'll never catch me.)  Buuut this shower was pretty cool.  Graham thought so too.  One cute thing was lining up six little bare butts and scrubbing them all at once.  Alison wins mom friend of the year for that feat.

We played volleyball, I still have bruises.  Our friends the Eurys are like filled with energizer batteries or something.  They didn't stop.  Running, biking, frisbee golf, slack lining, zip lining, volleyball, campfiring, the list goes on.  I'm all, "Eury take a chill pill!"  
 

Sarah knows her batteries better be fully charged for the day.

"It's ok if, at age 45, you don't remember exactly how to build a boy scout fire."  Mark laughs, but inside he's ticked.  After making the statement I ask myself, "I wonder how old he is?"  I may never know.

Cabin sounds cool, huh?  And I didn't even mention the numerous hammocks, interesting art, salt lick with -at one point- an elk, silhouette of a woman on a phone with her feet up on a table, outdoor banquet table facing an awe inspiring mountain view, 100 acres of mountain wilderness, lookout tower, hike to a large canvas tent with air mattresses inside, paper mache deer head placed randomly in the forest, hiking trail marked with mason jars etc etc.  

One of the buildings

Clifton showing off his running skills while pretending to help kids zip line

kids at banquet table facing beautiful valley - Silas on right

s'mores

Here's a picture of our group at the festival.  Foggy cuz who knows who was drooling on Graham's phone.  Thanks for taking the pic, Ben, and for making your friend group stop to hang out with us fogies when you could have been galavanting around with cold beer in your hands.  I love these guys, and Ben.

To our fourth year at the festival, and to many more!