Archive for May, 2011

Tree...and Plant and Flower and Shrub Hugging

Saturday, May 28th, 2011

by Samantha Prust

You know you're a tree hugger if your photo collection is chock full of pictures of trees...and plants, flowers, shrubs, leaves, sticks, rivers, ponds, sunsets and other assorted shots of the natural world.


Moving Update

Friday, May 27th, 2011

With hope and humor in my heart, here's the scoop on the move:
Boxes, boxes everywhere.
They must be opened, do I dare?
A surprise or present? Not so true.
Just lots of work for me to do.
Boxes, boxes all about,
Stacked in tiers and rows no doubt.
I must get busy, get work done.
When will I have fun in the sun?
It's finding new places for all my stuff,
and that, my friend, is kind of tough.
I promise, I promise, that's my vow
To empty the boxes, just not now.

Friends to the Third Degree

Wednesday, May 25th, 2011

Last night we went out to dinner at Adelita's (Heiditown gives a great review with photo) here in Loveland. The food is good and the atmosphere is more “Little Mexico in My Neighborhood” than anything else. Located off the main thoroughfares but still easy to find in the downtown area, it is a place where the locals meet 'n greet.

Our gathering was an impromptu kind of thing. Our friend Pat's grandson Robert was in town, which was as good an excuse as any for a night out. Pat called us, said Jan was coming, too, and so was Bo. So I called Helen and Phyl, who sometimes join us when we play cards and chickenfoot or Mexican Train dominoes. We know Trudy likes Mexican food, so we asked her to join us.

We sat in no particular order, filling in seats around the long table as we happened to follow one another in from the porch. It was a noisy, laughter-filled dinner. At one point Pat leaned over to me and said smiling, “Just listen to the cacophony around this table!” With all the side conversations going on, we were indeed sitting in the midst of some rather boisterous dialogues. Discussions ranged from who was doing what to what, to mixed drinks or wines we liked, which shots were lethal (Starry Nights!) and specific desserts not to be missed. Which led to ordering 3 desserts (Flan, Key Lime Pie and Fried Ice Cream) and enough spoons so we could pass around each yummy dish.

I looked around the table, eyes resting one by one on the familiar faces, and pondered.

Let's see … going clockwise … there sat Pat, whom I'd met nearly 16 years ago when her dear friend Jan was my boss. Pat and Jan's children, who are now sending their children off to college and beyond, grew up together. Trudy and her first husband knew my husband and his first wife when their children were small. I met Phyl through Colorado Authors' League … or was it a mutual writer-friend? Robert is Pat's grandson, who stopped here on his way to California, and we know him from previous visits. Helen … well, I've known Helen forever, and we became reacquainted through mutual colleagues and writers. She and Phyl are members of the Weekly Writers' Workshop that sits UnderTheCuckooClock each week. Fred is my best friend and partner in business and life, and Bo is Jan's one-door-down neighbor. Their children grew up together, too.

As it ended up, Jan wasn't feeling well, so Bo took take-out back to her. We all signed the top of the take-out box so she'd feel more a part of our little gathering.

I always get a kick out of seeing people who reside side-by-side in my heart meeting one another and forming their own bonds. Facebook calls it “friends of friends.” Linked In calls it “second or third degree connections.”

I call it simply living the good life.

Seeing with New Eyes

Tuesday, May 17th, 2011

I am always amazed at how our bodies adjust to whatever is going on with them. I thought I was seeing fine, even though the optometrist kept telling me that cataracts were growing on both eyes and would eventually have to be removed.

Then I started having trouble driving at night and I couldn’t read street signs even in the daytime. I went to see the eye surgeon and she confirmed that the cataracts on both eyes had advanced beyond the “annoying level” into the “need to be removed level.”

She asked me what kind of vision I would like to have. What! I get to choose my own vision? She explained the options and recommended that I go with mid-vision for distance so that I can still read without glasses. If she had corrected fully for distance, I would have needed reading glasses.

I have had the surgeries on both eyes and it’s truly a miracle! I had forgotten how bright colors are. The numbers on my bedside clock stand out clear and precise. I can read the restaurant sign across the street. And I can now read printed materials at exactly the distance the surgeon had described.

I still can’t drive until I get new glasses, but I can walk around downtown. I can read the newspaper and my computer screen. I can enjoy the bright emerging colors of spring. I am truly enjoying “seeing with new eyes.”

Addicted to Starbucks

Friday, May 6th, 2011

I think I have a Starbucks problem.

I might have an espresso machine at home, a coffee pot and two half-pound bags of Starbucks brew. But I don’t like brewed coffee, nor am I a barista who knows how to craft an espresso, steam milk and add a bit of foam to make a homemade latte. Plus, I hate reading directions.

When I go to work, I think wouldn’t a morning latte be great?

I think again and realize I want to hold out.

I buckle down and work a few hours until the lull of the late afternoon arrives when there should be a nationally mandated naptime. Again, I start agonizing over the latte.

But I only want to buy one a day and I can make it until after work.


I sit at the computer, typing up my stories, while in the back of my mind the desire for caffeine stealthily creeps toward the front of my mind. I’m typing and thinking, no! You have to wait!

Sometimes I give in to the wicked caffeine pull, but then I feel guilty.

If I get a second latte after work, that means double the money, or 8 bucks instead of 4 bucks. It also means double the calories.

I’m not a coffee drinker. I’m a hoity toity latte drinker, caramel syrup and light on foam, no whipped cream.

If you were to ask my dad, buying a latte a day is plain crazy.

What my dad doesn’t know is that I go crazy all day waiting until I can have my latte.

Yep, Starbucks has snared me into its logo, the siren that tempts me with the call of wanting to be in a different place, escape the real world and sip at the ever addicting cup of comfort.