Snow Day!

Growing up, snow days were just about the best it got. In Oregon, a half-inch snow qualifies as a blizzard and all the schools shut down. Mrs. Vaughn would lend her hill and all day the Messolines and Olsens (and assorted others throughout the years) would go sledding. Bumps of varying sizes for kids of varying braveness would be made, and we would go zipping down, then flying off that steep hillside. It didn't matter if the snow was minimal and we were more covered in cowpies than the white stuff, it was a SNOW DAY. These days held such dizzying excitement for me that in anticipation of them, when snow was just falling and not yet sticking, I would run and record the event in my never-used diary. Seriously, my childhood journals have on average one or two entries a year and each is me screaming about the weather with the words getting progressively bigger.

Since living in Utah and Colorado, snow has sadly lost some of it's allure. There are only so many times you can slip on ice, or get your pants muddy and icy, or almost rear end someone else and not have the dream fade. However, every now and then, especially after the first big snowstorm, those old feelings flicker up in me again. Snow... the wonderful homogenizing power of it. Everything is white, clean and new. Just waiting for me to go romp around in it.

And so we did:





This is Nate and me and some friends at city park. Nate's school was canceled, and though he still had to study most of the day, we got some fun in.





15 inches. Not bad for October.







This blog post reminds me of my old diaries. Nothing for months, then excitement over snow. I guess not too much has changed.

On a side note, this is my finger. Yesterday I was
using a vertical stick blender to chop up some dried apricots and was digging out the resulting goo around the blades with my finger when somehow I pressed the on button and came this close to chopping said finger off. Blood sprayed everywhere and I screamed bloody murder and Nate came running in to find me holding up my index finger with a big deep cut all around the circumference of it. Even the nail part was cut open. Because we are poor and I don't have health insurance, we forwent the hospital and bandaged it ourselves. I think it's going to be fine, but it was very terrifying. It made me think about what a klutz I am, and how if I'm not careful someday I'm probably going to die an absurd and unnecessary death.

2243 Franklin Street

Greetings to the few lonely souls who somehow make it to this corner of the world wide web. As many of you know, Annelisa and I recently bought a new house. Not that the house is new; it was built in 1888, the year that Benjamin Harrison narrowly defeated Grover Cleveland in a close presidential election. At the time Colorado had been granted statehood a mere twelve years earlier and the state was still full of miners and mountain men. Although we don't know much about the 121 year history of our house, we do know that several years ago it fell into disrepair and was eventually abandoned for a period of time. Earlier this year an investor bought the dilapidated old house, renovated it, and sold it to the aforementioned young couple eager for some land where they could put down some roots. It is a new and exciting experience for us and we are looking forward to making this house our new abode. We are deeply grateful to our loving and supportive families who have helped make this opportunity possible for us.

Without further ado, here is our little house on 2243 Franklin Street:


Annelisa, a proud new homeowner, posing with our newly planted marigolds.



Annelisa painting the front door a bright blue. Annelisa has most of the creative vision for our house.

Additional photos of the interior are soon to come...

So we beat on, boats against the current..

Some pictures from the last few weeks:


Annelisa, our friend Rocky, and her dog at the St. Mary's glacier hike trailhead.


The lake at the base of St. Mary's glacier.

Hiking up the glacier.

Grant and Carrie came to visit us a few weeks ago. Here we are at Confluence Park in Denver.

On our way to the art museum (Denver library in background).


City views on my bike ride home from school today.

Summer Archives

Although I recognize that these photographs may be somewhat of an anachronism, I was desperate to find something that I could send out into cyberspace which would validate my existence on this planet. In our computer age is not enough to simply have an experience; it must be authenticated and legitimized through a process of meticulous virtual documentation. And since I have not been vigilantly documenting anything as of late, here is a glimpse of what Annelisa and I might be like now, based on photographic evidence from this past summer.

All of these pictures were taken on our trip to Oregon's famous Jessie M. Honeyman Memorial State Park, our first camping trip as newlyweds (July 2008).

Driving down the Oregon coast

Annelisa warming up by the fire

A red barrel

Embarking on an excursion into the dunes
Annelisa and lots of sand

City Park/Ethiopian Food

Annelisa and I continue to live our lives within the structure and limits dictated by society. I go to medical school. Annelisa works at a library. We do not hop on freight trains bound for unknown destinations nor do we spontaneously buy one-way plane tickets to exotic foreign lands. Fortunately for us there is no need to venture out on some wild, cathartic, Kerouacian odyssey in order to experience culture and beauty. We have Ethiopian food down the street and a beautiful park a few blocks away.

Here are some pictures I took in the fall. Featured below are the Ethiopian restaurant and the lake at City Park with downtown and the mountains in the background.