Having seen Dean safely returned to Libre [in defiance of Doctor’s orders to go to the deadend suburban wasteland of Castle Rock] we made a run to Pueblo in the renewed smoke.
Our appointed rounds, without the benefit of the Toyota Dealershit’s delays,
went sufficiently smoothly to be home in time for lunch. The foul airs discouraged much
walking about until the weekend by which time Indigenous Summer was in evidence,
the oaks having lit up in the interim after our unseasonable snowfall.
Meanwhile out west Gerlach got an AQI sensor at long last, and I was thinking it would be cool to have one here too but the initial hippie consensus was dismissive; “You don’t need a
Weatherman to know which way the wind blows”* since a person can always stand in their own doorway to feel which way the wind’s blowing…on the other hand the answer to what’s blowing in on it might be not so obvious. Nonetheless purpleair remains on hold at Libre for now.
Soon enough, all too soon enough, we had to make another trip into the hazy world, early
Wednesday out onto the Interstate, north among humongous motorhomes sporting “Get on
the Trump Train”** bumperstickers with an image of the adored sandbox bully pasted in the
driver’s window to further inspire the faithful. In Castle Rock I was tempted to dash over to the abandoned gas station’s Trump Store for a couple of Trump 2020 stickers to make that “Trump Trump 2020” but, naaah, the sphincter’s name is ALREADY too much with us so we went on to
JunoWorks to inspect “Sheet Lightning”, Linda’s big project for Big Sky, Montana.
From the industrial wastelands of Commerce City we found our way to downtown Denver,
delivering small plywood pieces done this summer to Robischon Gallery where there was,
as is always their wont, a good group show called “Adapt, Iteration 2”. Although between visiting and ordering pizza I didn’t get too much time with it I certainly liked what I saw, being particularly taken with Ted Larsen’s little scrap metal sculptures before, 2:10 and business done,
we were getting out of Denver, south in the haze ‘n’ smoke
to the Huerfano and home…
Next day, Thursday, up the creek the leaves were already falling, early falling.
Feel safer now? November’s getting closer all the time…did the Twit really say “vote in person and vote by mail, too”*** or was that just Fake News…like the tax returns?
* [the lyric that launched a thousand and more political piggies, a good number of them on the FBI payroll]
**Something to do with being railroaded perhaps?
***Isn’t that, uh, illegal for the ‘leader of the “free” world’ to say?