Friday, sore from the effort, we inspected our accomplishments behind the library and
were rewarded with a small abundance of chanterelles, deliciously sauteed in the excellent olive oil Josephine’s brother makes in Lucca Sicula, Sicilia, and exports to the family’s deli in Pueblo.
Saturday saw a small wearying walk before the p.o.,
Sunday up the creek, ‘squitoes [not shown] skeeting, sunflowers ever more outrageous everywhere up here…
Monday a developing dental emergency necessitated a trip to Pueblo,
a new dentist for L., shopping and our usual stop for lunch.
Given that our last return had bogged down in town with a never-explained Total Freeway Closure and the time before that had the added half hour delay of a car fire, we set off from Jorge’s in some trepidation, especially after hearing about “Leon Smith and the Curtain of Doom”*
but finally this time we made it home, no problem, with plenty of time to put on a dinner party.
Wednesday Aggie was uncommonly thirsty on the walk
but the big event was that, after several days getting Trigger set up [including but not limited to a bloody gash in the head Sunday afternoon] to run, we succeeded, after a two year hiatus,
in doing just that…big thanks to the Carburetor Factory, who have been rebuilding carbs since before Advanced Design Chevs existed. Yes, the gauges all work [!].
That night, third in a row either out or entertaining, we went to Leon’s for Bill’s 66th birthday, [uneasily leaving Aggie home after she regurgitated a small lake on the mudroom floor]
where a good time was seemingly had by all unto rather late, particularly us as we had to be up at six the next morning for another Dental Adventure in Pueblo.
*Our neighbor Leon was a few miles south of Stem Beach on I-25 when the semi ahead of him completely disappeared into a dense curtain of rain and stopped, which he was fortunately able to do as well but while in there monster winds snapped a strap, shattering his rear window and releasing several sheets of drywall and plywood from his roof, never to be seen again. He moved tentatively through the downpour and was soon out the other side in bright sunshine, clear highway all the way down to Redrock Road, our turn for the Huerfano.
The photo of backlit tall grass with the tree trunk and its perfectly aligned shadow (if I read it right after considerable examination) is astonishing.
Great little square vanishing point on the road to Pueblo!
Aggie in the sunflowers, Trigger’s rich patina and cloudbursts across the Huerfano (indicative of Leon’s Curtain of Doom) are excellent documents of Libre, but what bugs are inhabiting that jar of goo?
Do keep us updated on Aggie’s condition; we hope it was just temporary….ditto for dental emergencies.
Oh, and congrats on the resurrection of Trigger….I assume “running” means “engine only” since those tires don’t look very road-worthy and the gauges indicate you wouldn’t get too far on gasoline either.
Look for another little square next installment; that’s Redrock Road intersecting the Interstate and we were back again all too soon. Twice, in L’s case. Aggie was quite truly looking into the Door of Doom the next morning, but slowly [knocking on wooden things here] recovered, or recovering, though not without veterinary interventions.
As for Trig, running indeed means “engine only”, but better than ever; I’ve ordered a new Hi-lift jack [Amazon Prime, coming Tuesday] and we plan to jack him up, block him up, and at least exercise the drive train. Actual road worthiness will await [a] brakes [there are none at present] and the removal of the woodpile directly downhill fro the parking place. Later for that, as they say. Alos those tires you noticed.
I too am concerned about Aggie, and also Linda.
The field of sunflowers with rain squalls and mountains in the background…spectacular.
Loved Leon’s story.
Leon has LOTS of stories..but currently he’s headed for the Totality on his motorcycle, so they’ll have to wait. As will Linda, whose bothersome molar will not be extracted until the 29th, alas.
Hello, Michael….
Ann (Balaam) shared your blog-post-site with me.
I doubt you remember me but I was there, at Stanford,
when you were. Living now in Marin County but, like
you, a lover of skies and landscapes and un-ending
distances.
Hope this finds you well, thriving….
Duncan McCandless
Duncan; yes I do remember, and have seen some work of yours over the years; we are well and, yes, thriving as best septuagenarians can be expected. Hoping you are, too.