We speak dog

The Bastard Hound

So we are in Alamosa. Driving to town. (Aside... Dad and Vee are presently renting a mongo house in the country whilst they wait for someone to buy their beautiful ranch in St Cloud; with a full basement, three bedrooms, two and a half baths, right across from the pool with some very cool neighbors that like to have fun and drink a little; just in case your'e lookin). So Vee and I and the girls are driving to to town. Even in a mongo house you get cabin fever and the park sounded great. So did a latte, but that's just me. Up ahead we see some runners. As in people running. Not a weird scene in Alamosa. Adams State is known for its cross country team since training in the high altitude (around 7600 ft) is a runners wet dream. Circling the runners are some dogs. Again not that weird. We're out in the country remember, in Colorado. But as we get closer the other dogs take off to their respectable homes and there in the middle of the road is this guy.

According to the runners, this guy "bit off a little more than he can chew" and preceeded to give us directions back to the house he started following them from. So we turn around and head back to the green house from whence we believe he came. (Mind you, Rowan is in the back seat reminding me how cute he is and that we should keep him and Daddy really would really like him too... I am not so sure about the last one but I do know I need to get this dog out of my sight and truck soon or we may very well have another dog; just what we need). We pull into the driveway (very loose term) of "the green house" and of course no one answers the door. But while Vee is up there knocking, the bastard hound is going nuts in the truck. Almost like he was supposed to be IN the house going nuts because someone is knocking on the door for God's sake. At that moment I knew he was home. We let him out and he just stood there, looking at us, as we slowly backed away.

"How in the world did they know I lived here? They must speak dog."

We do.

Alamosa and I

Sangre de Cristo Mountains (taken from the Hooper Hot Springs)

So while the men were framing the basement, the Starman girls took a road trip to "the 'mosa".

Alamosa, that is.

Now, Alamosa and I have a long storied past. My dad and Alison moved there when I was 14. (I promise to post a family tree someday but bare with me for now.) I was doing time in the south suburbs of Chicago with my mom for the majority of the year, but would occasionally summon the strength to leave all my friends and teenage angst (actually, I usually packed it with me) and head to the middle of nowhere. I could not for the life of me understand why on earth they were so happy to move there. It was freezing-- all the time. There was no mall for about 3 hours. One movie theatre and 15 Mexican restaurants. Just didn't get it. Now don't get me wrong, the highlight was the family time. And I have wonderful memories of Christmases and summers with them all. My affinity for them, however, never made it to my surroundings, and contempt for the Valley grew. After moving to Boulder (the best place in the world, as far as I was concerned) for college, I did spend more time down there, although my opinion of the area didn't change a whole lot. It could have something to do with the unbelievable stress and sadness that came with each visit that led up to very tearful, heart wrenching goodbye. After Alison died, I actually thought I should live there. My intentions were genuine, I desperately wanted to care for my grieving Dad and broken hearted little brother and sister. But alas, Alamosa and I were not meant to be. Years went by and shortly after I met Scott, my dad called to tell me he and Vee were moving the kids, Larry and Megan were the only ones left at home (again I promise a tree), to St.Cloud, Minnesota. For some reason, although Scott and I had only been dating a few months, I knew I had to take him there. We drove down, two huge dogs in tow, in 100 degree heat with no A/C. He must have liked me. Believe it or not, we had so much fun. We went to the Sand Dunes and hiked up Zapata Falls. We walked along the Rio Grande that slowly flowed right behind my parents house. And they all liked the big bald guy. Even Alamosa.

Now they have moved back. Back to the Valley. And maybe I have softened or matured or just plain gotten over it. But its really not that bad. The views are unbelievable. The atmosphere is small town yet cultured, thanks to the college and historical Hispanic influence. And the people are so, so very nice. Finally, almost 25 years later. I get it. It's not perfect. No where is, not even Boulder, and I had to learn that one the hard way. But it's a damn nice place. I actually am looking forward to many future trips to Alamosa--to see Nana and Papa and Mark and Marcus and the girls. Camping at the Sand Dunes, taking the girls up Zapata Falls and riding bikes along the Rio Grande.

I am at peace with Alamosa. I hope it is with me.

Mt. Blanca (hiding behind the clouds)-- Until we meet again

Under Construction: Part I

2015 E Settlers is under construction. Finally. Not that it will be that exciting to most people. It's not some big custom home or second home or dream home. It's just the basement. But to us... it's pretty damn exciting. Expanding our living quarters is long overdue. So we bought the wood, a plane ticket for Scott's cousin, Duke, to fly out from Omaha and I made plans with Dad and Vee for the girls and I to head to Alamosa for the weekend. A grand scheme, if I do say so myself.

The Team

(Duke made sure to turn his hat around to make sure the "N" was showing; typical true Husker fan)

Before

After

So thank you Duke. Thank you Joe and Johnny Cakes. And most of all, thank you to the Starman. You are the best and you are right... I want it done! I'll even let you call it "the man cave" as long as you share it with the toy kitchen, lots of dolls and occasionally, me.