I mentioned this past week that Jen, Bill and I went to see Downton Abbey  at the theater. At one point in the movie, Jen suddenly started to laugh. It was in a scene where the King and Queen of England had brought along their own staff, and their personal chef was trying to take over the kitchen. He was a snobbish French chef. I looked at her quizzically and she whispered to me that the chef — Monsieur Courbet — looked just like Winston.

It happens that Winston is Jen’s puppy — a Yorkie Poo who is more Poo than Yorkie. And he does, indeed, resemble the French chef. See for yourself…..

It has to do with the curly hair and the length of his pointed nose. Despite his decidedly British name, Winston definitely leans toward his French side.

Have a great weekend.

John Cougar, John Deere, John 3:16
Sorry, but anytime I come in contact with a John Deere anything, I can’t help but think of the Keith Urban song. Anyhoo, the other day Dagny came over to earn some bucks by mowing our lawn. She was out of our sight, mowing the side yard, when suddenly we heard the mower stop. Bill went to check out the situation, and came back to tell me that a wheel had fallen off of the mower. A little bit later, I took this photo of Bill attempting to fix the lawn mower, teaching Dagny as he went. It made me smile. Perhaps if she doesn’t become a professional beekeeper, she can become a lawn mower mechanic…..

Feelings, Nothing More Than Feelings
The other day, to make up for being so inconsiderate as to take Kaiya for her birthday adventure without including Cole (such a cruel, cruel world), I took him to a wonderful park that’s not too far from our house. He was kind enough to allow me to include Kaiya (despite his having been left out of her and my adventure a few days earlier) and we all had a lot of fun…..

…..however, I had to laugh at something I overheard. There was someone whom I presume was a daddy with his little daughter who was maybe 5 years old. She was climbing on the rope ladder. As she climbed, Dad said, “Honey, now be careful and make good choices.” Those, I thought were words I would never have heard come from either my mom’s or my dad’s mouths, at least not when it came to playing on playground equipment. Parenting in the 21st Century.

History of Twang
I have been addicted to the Ken Burns’ PBS documentary about country music, cleverly called Country Music. In his characteristically detailed style, Burns tells the story of country music, starting back in the days of the depression when those people we now refer to as flyover Americans took music into their own hands and created what was originally referred to as hillbilly music. The history lesson goes on to apparently up to and including contemporary country music. I am up to the 1970s, which is when I really started getting interested in country music, though it was more country rock where I began taking baby steps. Actually, Bill has enjoyed the program as much as me, and I hear him humming along to a lot of the music.

Singing
And speaking of enjoying the music, I am happy that The Voice is back. I was a little nervous that the whole Blake Shelton/Gwen Stefani thing was going to get on my nerves, but so far it really hasn’t. Thus far none of the competitors have rocked my boat either. But it’s early in the season.

Ciao.

In keeping with the relatively weird weather we’ve been having in 2019, the autumn colors are very late this year. People who drove up to see the colors in the mountains last weekend only saw a very few trees just beginning to turn yellow. It seems like most of the time, the aspens are full-out bursting with gold in the mountains.

Despite my recent pumpkin spice rant, I have to admit that the sights and smells of autumn make me very happy. This was the sight that caught my eye yesterday at my neighborhood Whole Foods. Who knew that there were so many kinds of pumpkins and squashes?…..

They were so beautiful that I was compelled to buy a perfectly shaped acorn squash, cut it in half, clean it out, fill it with butter and brown sugar, and bake it. Bill isn’t the biggest fan of vegetables in general, but he does really like acorn squash prepared this way. “My mom made it like that,” is his excuse. Oh, and BROWN SUGAR on a vegetable.

The smell of roasting chilies is also in the air, reminding me of the fall season. Every year, I want to buy roasted hot chilies. And every year I have to remind myself that I never, ever make green chili. Why? Because my sister Jen does the deed for me. She makes some of the best green chili, using ground beef instead of pork. She learned it from her Sanchez mother-in-law, though I think she has tweaked it over the years to make it her own.

A week or so ago, I got a text message from her in which she told me she just finished the worst job she has to do each year — cleaning her hot chilies. It’s back-breaking, eye watering, nose burning work, but well worth the effort. Especially since it’s her and not me.

Every year, Bill and Jen and I try to make it to Estes Park for one of my favorite activities: listening to the elk bugle. It occurred to me that we aren’t going to be able to do it this year, which makes me kind of sad. It’s a pretty time of year, and the performance given by the male elks so as to collect their herd is one of God’s loveliest gifts, at least to me. The bull elks will have to call for their mates this year without me looking on.

I have pulled out all of my flowers, though my tomato plant continues to produce fruit. I’m going to have to give up at some point and pull them out of the ground. I have no more ideas for using my many, many tomatoes…..

In a few weeks, we will make our way to AZ, where we will spend a few weeks getting our house ready for our winter visit. The weather — while not hot enough to fry tortillas on the sidewalk, will be a step back into memories of summer. So I’m enjoying our Indian summer while I have it.

For birthdays this year, instead of tangible items, I have tended to gift experiences instead. Experiences that include time with me. For example, Cole chose to go to the Children’s Museum preceded by a sushi lunch…..

For her birthday treat, Mylee chose Elitch Garden’s Amusement Park, and brought along her best friend Ella…..

When it came time for Kaiya to select an activity, she was frankly kind of stumped. She’s too grown up for the Children’s Museum, and Elitch’s is closed for the season. A museum visit didn’t catch her fancy. There hasn’t been a movie that she has wanted to see.

The days and weeks went by, and her birthday was getting further and further in the rear view mirror. One day, however, I had a EUREKA moment. Kaiya and her dad share a love for scary movies, something I despise. But what about a ghost tour?

I looked online and found a tour that got good reviews and appeared to be family-friendly. I made the suggestion, and she accepted. We were on for a visit with the ghosts.

When Court was 10 or 11 years old, Bill and I took him to a ghost tour during which we learned stories about all of the haunted houses and buildings in the Capitol Hill area of Denver. The tour started in the Molly Brown house, where we learned all about the spirits that visit that house regularly and continued on towards the state Capitol, hearing ghost stories along the way. I remember the stories terrified Court. Heck, they should have. He was just a kid. Frankly, the stories scared the hell out of all three of us.

This particular tour with Kaiya took us on the other end of the downtown area, to the area not far from Coors Field. It was in this area that Denver’s founder, General William Larimer decided to settle way back in 1858. He sought permission from Kansas Territorial Governor Denver via a letter, hoping to sway him by naming the new settlement Denver. By the time the letter reached Gov. Denver, he was no longer governor. Nevertheless, apparently Larimer already had stationary printed up, because he kept that name, a fact about which I’m glad because there could have been far worse names. Stinkeyville, for example.

Anyway, our tour began at the Tivoli Brewery on the Auraria campus, home to several higher education facilities including Metropolitan State University, our local urban college. It took us through lower downtown, which, during the time of General Larimer, would have consisted primarily of saloons and brothels. But those prostitutes have stuck around, because our ghost meters kept indicating the existence of spooky friends. I took several photos, but no ghosts turned up mysteriously in my pictures.

At the end of the day, this young lady who found The Sixth Sense to be only mildly scary enjoyed the time with her Nana Kris and Papa Bill, even if we didn’t encounter any ghosts directly…..

Our grandson Joseph is 10 years old. He wrote this poem as a school assignment.

I Am From
By Joseph McLain

I am from my favorite cat Ellie
From puddles and trees during springtime in Montpelier.

I am from an old green house and a beautiful neighborhood
I am from overgrown hostas that always seem to be looking at me.

I am from hot chocolate and chapter books
From Hibbert and McLain.

I am from big celebrations and different cultures like Polish and Scottish.
From Taco Tuesday and Pride.

I am from Great Grandma Wilma, a Cookie Monster cake
And from my great grandparent singing to me.

From my youngest, but first to die cat.
I am from those moments, the sad ones, the hard ones and the happy ones
that is why life is so amazing.

I couldn’t be prouder of this boy.

Have a great weekend.

English Lives and Breathes
English, unlike Latin, is not a dead language. The Miriam-Webster dictionary continues to add words to its dictionary. Very recently, in fact, they added the word  tallboy to the dictionary. You know, tallboy as in a 24-oz can of beer. That probably makes a lot of beer drinkers feel very scholarly…..

Lady Kris?
In the midst of the excitement around the release of Downton Abbey, I stumbled across an exciting piece of news. It seems that the real Downton Abbey — Highclere Castle — is being listed on Airbnb. Unfortunately, it will be a one-night-only extravaganza.

According to a CNN story, two lucky guests will experience “an exclusive evening drinking cocktails in the Saloon followed by a traditional dinner with the Earl and Countess of Carnarvon in the State Dining Room, being waited on by Highclere Castle’s own butler,” the site’s listing says. (I doubt the butler will be Carson.) CNN goes on to say that following dinner, there will be coffee served in the Library, after which the lucky two will retire to one of the bedrooms with an ensuite bathroom and outstanding Hampshire countryside views. In order to be eligible to be considered, you must already be registered with Airbnb, have outstanding reviews, and be a Downton Abbey enthusiast. I wonder if one out of three would work?

Team Pear Pickers
Our apple trees didn’t bear fruit this year, but our pear tree delivered a bountiful harvest. Last weekend, I put out a call for help. With the permission of our painter, we used his 17-foot ladder to reach ALMOST to the top of the tree, and got plenty of pears. This year, my picking team included Maggie Faith, Dagny, and their Papa…..

And Speaking of….
Our painter finally completed the painting job yesterday afternoon, and left with his 17-foot ladder. He’s been here for three or so weeks. To the untrained eye, you might not notice the difference in color, but it’s actually quite a nice change. And I’m very pleased with the gray trim. It’s good to be finished, and we are delighted with the way it turned out…..

Ciao.