Back in Colorado Springs

I know it’s been a while since the last email/post but the Mets were in the friggin World Series. Come on. I had no idea Kansas City was so good. The best team beat the second best team. Wait till next year when Zack Wheeler comes back. Be afraid all other teams, be very afraid. And that’s all I have to say about that.

A few pictures of the Holbrook to Taos trip are included. The stop about 10 miles west of Albuquerque was at an RV park that has appeared as a backdrop for some movies. That was last week so I can’t remember the names of the movies. They have a half dozen or so vintage RVs that can be rented. Taos is a tourist town. Scenic mountains to the north. Julia Roberts lives there, sometimes. And that’s all I have to say about that.

The drive from Taos to Colorado Springs included some white knuckle stuff and wet snow at the top of La Veta pass, just the kind of driving conditions we were hoping this life style would avoid. That sucked because we were kind of in a hurry to drop the RV off at the repair shop before they closed.

So here we are in a 115 year old rental house about a mile from where that nut shot three people last week. It’s actually a nice neighborhood really close to Colorado College and a mile from our grandson. He’s so cute.

This might be the last email/blog post until we head out of here in December. It’s been a little cold to go exploring and all that RV connecting/disconnecting three days in a row did a number on the spinal issues. But, Thursday’s spinal shot might lift my spirits to write something. If not, and if it’s your nature to worry and/or be paranoid then go take some tranquilizers. The rest of you, go have a drink. Talk to you in December. I’m going to get some egg nog and vanilla rum.

One last thing – I’ve been dreaming a lot since we got back here in relax mode. Last week you were all in one. Are you ready, dream analysts? I was driving a bus in some nasty weather and stopped to pick up one of my cousins who had been on the blog until his passing in September. He was rejoining all of you on the email list. I started driving again and the rough dark road seemed like it was becoming a canyon and we were flying above it. We were. As soon as I realized that I was driving a flying bus I took that hint – I was flying and realized it was a dream and left the bus behind. Maintaining altitude was a struggle but it still allowed me to fly with colorful, flying dinosaurs among tall, sparkling, colored mountains. The trouble with taking over the flying and knowing you’re flying is that you’re on the edge of consciousness. Enjoy those flights, dreamers. They don’t last long. Also had a dream with you, Monique, riding bikes. Somebody figure that one out. Monique was a bowling partner.

And that’s all I have to say until the next one. Happy Thanksgiving.