"Me when my bosses are having a meeting and I hear my name."

Happy Birthday to my son who is the funniest person I know.  He makes us laugh at ourselves, and turns the mundane into the extraordinary.

Deity of the Morning

Longs Peak: viewed from Fort Collins Colorado

Every morning as I drive to work, Longs Peak comes up on the horizon and greets me. It makes me smile when I see it, but I wish I had a more eternal name for it. A name that is a reflection of its beauty and presence, not a name that has been borrowed from a man. This mountain seems to be a sacred thing, like a deity that anchors me to this new place.

The Navajo understand the sacredness of mountains, and they have four sacred mountains that form the borders of their homeland, “Dinetah.” Their mountains also have names that have been given to them by men, but the Navajo have given them sacred names: Tsisnaasjini aka Mount Blanca (Dawn or White Shell Mountain), Tsoodzil aka Mount Taylor (Turquoise Mountain, Doko'oosliid aka San Francisco Peaks ( Abalone Shell Mountain), and Dibé Nitsaa aka Mount Hesperus (Obsidian Mountain). In my heart, I am going to rename my mountain, maybe I will call it Morning Mountain, because everyday it brings me a fresh new morning

This suburban adventurer braved the wild, and took a short hike along the Cache la Poudre River near Fort Collins.  Don't you just love this name?  I do. (More about the name later, I promise)

 My little red car and I headed down highway 14, and my heart was filled with the desire for adventure. Soon, I found myself at the head of a road side trail, and set out on my quest.  It was not long before I encountered the first of many hazards along the way, a treacherous set of concrete stairs, littered with eons of dislodged pebbles, and pine needles. At first I felt somewhat daunted but I bravely marshaled on in spite of the recurring mental image of me sprawled face first in the dust.

Later, when I reached the tops of the stairs, my next task would involve risking life and limb crossing this narrow mountain highway.  No traffic, you say, but any moment an out of control semi could come flying around the corner.  Hey, it could happen.

Despite the threat of phantom trucks, I make it across the highway and now encounter the downward steps.  Desi, I say, "These look more dangerous then the others, no hand rail.  O.K. take a deep breath Desi, you can do it." 

This band of travelers was hot on my heels as I came down the stairs, but I was too afraid to stop and let them pass.  When at last I found myself safely at the bottom I let them pass me on the bridge.  I was glad to let them go ahead, because I was worried about ticks (I swear I feel them crawling all over me right now), but hopefully this group will scare them all away before I get there.  However if we were to come upon a black bear, I am afraid every one of them would all be able to outrun me!

Luckily, I didn't encounter any trucks, ticks, bears, or poison ivy, and actually spent a lovely day along the river, taking pictures, and remembering why I love Colorado.  I miss the ocean but Colorado's rivers are stunning and peaceful, and good for the soul. 

Now for the name.  The Fort Collins History Connection, relates a story about a party of fur trappers who were caught in a snow storm along the river.  When the storm passed they realized that they would need to lighten their load before they could continue.  So, they dug a pit near the river to hide their "cache," and because most of what they buried consisted of gun powder the river becomes, "Cache la Poudre,"  Which translates as: "the place where the powder was hidden."  Cool name, right?  

I am happy to have found a home near my children and this beautiful river.  However, I miss my family and my friends that I left behind, in California.  There is a part of my heart is still in that warm and sunny place, and the ocean still runs in my veins.  

                

Today Aug. 6th, is Andy Warhol's birthday, so I thought it would be fun to dig out this old picture of my Campbell's Soup paper dress.  Yes, the dress was made out of paper, and I wore it for Halloween, in 1968.

Mom has always enjoyed finding fun things to buy, and Campbell's had a promotion selling the dress, and the bag I am holding.  I don't remember what I thought about it then, but now I wish I still had the dress, maybe it would be fun to frame and hang on the wall.

The 60's were a great time to be alive, and I feel sorry for any of you who missed them.  It seemed as if the world was coming alive, and doing so in living technicolor (except this picture).  I remember getting brightly colored clothes, dangling earrings, and for the first time in my life, my straight hair was in style, YES.
by Desiree Hedger

Walk in the Woods Ketchekan Alaska

The more I do, the more I can do, and the more I want to do!  The more I create, the more I can create, and the more I want to create.

I have a very bad habit, I want to do everything at once, but small steps are getting me much further along the road to where I want to be.
by Desiree Hedger

Folks, I'm scaring myself.  I fixed myself a very nutritious lunch, and I liked it.  I went out into my garden, and picked a big ripe tomato, and a few sweet basil leaves.  I cut the tomato in half, sprinkled on the chopped basil, a little bit of feta cheese and placed them in the broiler for a few minutes.  I added some avocado on crackers, and some cantaloupe. IT WAS GOOD!

 When I think about making changes in my life it is so easy to fall into the trap of making big changes.  Big changes just hurt my brain, and I don't get anywhere.  I am trying to make small changes, slow and easy, and I hope it works.  So far, so good.
By Desiree Hedger

I Take a Vacation and End Up at the Local Cemetery

By Desiree Hedger
Call me a ghoul, but I love graveyards.  Old graveyards, with huge ornate marble monuments, not those soulless new ones with those mower friendly flat stones.  I want to walk amongst cherubs, obelisks, mausoleums, and dinosaurs.  That's right, I said dinosaurs.  Recently when my equally ghoulish son and I visited the Greenhill Cemetery in Laramie, Wyoming,  I was surprised and delighted to find this grave with a simple handmade pyramid, and graced with a plastic dinosaur. 

Is this a grandchild's forgotten toy, or a playful tribute to someone's life?

The University of Wyoming now surrounds this beautiful cemetery in the heart of Laramie, and if you are mood for a nice stroll you can stop in at the office and pick up a booklet that will introduce you to some of the cemetery's more notable residents.  But, let's leave the upper crust for later and have a look at Bob.  The booklet "Welcome to Greenhill Cemetery," tell us that no one remembers who Bob was, but this simple cross tells part of the story.

 

It simply states, "BOB. CHARLIE LEFT YOU HERE  MAY.10.1894"











We spent a few minutes with Bob, but like Charlie, my son and I "left him there", and then we went to hold court with a local Madam Christy Grover.  Christy, found her way into the cemetery when according to the booklet she may have committed "suicide" with the help of her husband. 


While visiting with this notorious "soiled dove," I began looking around at some of her neighbors.  I spotted a grave with the name "Westbrook," and thought to myself, "I'm related to some "Westbrooks."  Sure enough a closer look let me know that I had found the graves of my own Great Aunt Midge and Uncle Lon.  We spent a few minutes "catching up," with Aunt Midge who lived to be 102 years old.  Way to go Aunt Midge.



Sugar Cookies

I love sugar cookies.  I can't make them without having some sort of memory flashback, to my mom's kitchen and our old yellow and chrome kitchen table.  It seems as if we made sugar cookies for every holiday and mom had a huge box of cookie cutters.

I do remember trying to recreate that experience with my kids, rolling out dough, and finding a dusting of flour on every conceivable surface in the kitchen.  We used trowel a thick layer of icing on every cookie and top that with a mound of sprinkles. 

My cookies are much simpler now days, no frosting, no sprinkles and I don't even cut them into pretty little shapes.  I pat the dough into the bottom of a cake pan, and make them into bars.  I take them to school with me in my lunch, and every bite is still pure bliss.

So, today's recipe from Aunt Susie's cookbook is good old fashion sugar cookies, nothing fancy just flour, sugar, eggs, and butter (real butter not that fake stuff).  You can't buy cookies that taste like homemade and they sure don't take you back home.  

Sugar Cookies

2 cups flour
1cup sugar
1/2 cup butter
1 1/2 tsp. baking power
1 tsp. salt
1 egg
1 tsp.. vanilla
1 tbl. milk

Mix flour baking powder and salt in a medium bowl.  In a separate bowl cream together butter and sugar, beat in egg, vanilla and milk.   Gradually stir in the flour mixture (this is where you kiss the Kitchen Aid mixer).  Press this mixture into the bottom of an ungreased cake pan, and bake at 375 degrees for about 15 minutes. 

Salmon Casserole

Tonight,  I tried preparing my first recipe from Auntie Sue's 1945 cookbook, and I am happy to report that we both survived the attempt.  But really, it wasn't half bad, Auntie liked it.  I made the Salmon Casserole, and  I have to admit for something fishy it was ok. 

 I am not the most accomplished cook and despite trying to have everything measured and ready to go, soon the kitchen seemed to be filled with puffs of flour and general chaos.  There were only a one small foul up ( I forgot to get the carrots ready).  This called for some rapid chopping and a few oaths quietly uttered so that Auntie wouldn't  hear! 

The recipe called for two cups of white sauce, and my Grandma Ethel's voice soon filled my head as I stirred the flour into the golden butter melting in the pan.  Grandma Ethel, taught me how to make a white sauce years ago, and if you pictured her standing next to me patiently instructing me in the art of making a fine white sauce you have never met my Grandmother.

It is more like trying to learn how to cook while a drill sergeant stands behind you shouting orders.  I can guarantee I learned the lesson, and thanks to Grandma I can make a smooth white sauce without any lumps. 

   

Good? Food

I don't know about you, but it seems to me that a lot of name brand food products just aren't as good as they used to be.  The portions keep get smaller, the prices keep going up, and I feel less satisfied after I eat them. 

I have never been a great cook, but I am tired of eating food that tastes like sawdust!  I went to the cupboard and I dug out the cookbook that Aunt Susie got for a wedding gift in 1945.  I thought if might be fun to try some of the recipes and because I still remember how good food used to taste.

The recipes in this cookbook all predate most prepared foods, but are modern enough that most ingredients are still available.  I have been wanting to create more food from scratch, and it could be fun to rediscover some old favorites.

I am still trying to figure out how to work my way though the recipes, I don't want to go chronologically because I don't want to eat 80 egg dishes in a row!  However, I don't want to just pick out what sounds good, because I want to try most of the recipes, even ones the ones that sound kind of; well, yucky or weird.  So if anyone has any suggestions I am willing to listen.  I want this to be an epicurean adventure, and I hope to discover some new favorites.

This morning I started out nice and easy and "coddled an egg," this is actually a very easy way to cook an egg with out frying it, and it is easier then poaching it.  Simply bring some water to a boil, and then turn off the heat. Crack open an egg in a bowl, and then carefully slide the egg into the water, and put a lid on the pot.  Leave the egg in the hot water for 3 to 5 minutes and then take it out with a slotted spoon. 

I had it for breakfast this morning with a few grapes and a less then desirable store bought English muffin, it was good!  I not ready to make the English muffin from scratch, but oh well I will keep taking small steps.

Some of us have to learn how to create things.  It doesn't come naturally to me, I want instant results, and when something doesn't happen instantaneously I give up.  But, I am learning; and here is the pay-off, I planted these flowers from seed (coleus and pansies) watered them, nurtured them and repotted them TWICE, and here they are making everyday more beautiful.

Rain on Main

 “Rain, rain, go away, come again another day.”  When you where a child, do you remember standing in front of a window, looking out at the pouring rain and wishing with all of your heart that the rain would stop?  The hope of some long awaited outing slowing bleeding away with every rain drop that trailed down that window. 

My “grown up” version of “Rain, rain go away” started about a week ago when I decided that my next adventure would be a trip over to Seal Beach.  I would look at all the shops, walk in the sand and get something really yummy from the bakery on Main Street, but when I opened the blinds only the weak grey light that signals impending rain greeted me.

 I grumbled and humphed and I thought about changing my plans and then I reminded myself, “Hey Des, this is Southern California not Siberia,” there is actually a high probability that I would survive for a few hours out in the rain. 

Now, with a new sense of adventure I hopped in the car and began the drive to Seal Beach.  The dark clouds grew more ominous with every mile and when I spied the ocean I could see the rain begin to come ashore.  Soon, my wiper blades were getting a long overdue workout, and I reached across the seat and gave my trusty umbrella a reassuring pat. 

I even began to fantasize that all of this rain would keep people away and that I would be able to drive onto Main Street and find a great parking place.  Ha, you silly girl.  It may have been quieter on the street, but parking was still a challenge.  I kept my eyes open and soon with some quick thinking and a slightly illegal maneuver, I was parked right on Main Street.  

I got out of my car, hoisted my umbrella and began to make my way down this appealing main street lined with shops and restaurants.  The first thing I wanted to do was to check out a little shop that I had visited with Bud and Whitney this summer.  In my naive little way I had hoped that I could pick up a tasty treat to send them for Christmas, but alas everything was a bit pricey, and the cost of shipping! Wow!  It didn’t help that when I asked about shipping the reply was a brusque, “It won’t make it there by Christmas.”

I think some business owners and their employees don’t realize how much effect a negative remark has on their business.  If a helpful person with some suggestions (there was a post office right down the street) had approached me, I might have bought the gift there, but alas I am all about the good vibe.  Too bad!

 Next stop, a bakery I had seen from the car the last time I drove by.  There is nothing I like better then a good bakery! Right?  Alas, another miss, it smelled delicious but it was very busy and I had my mind set on lowbrow goody and not dainty pastry.  Oh well, I decided to move on, but I was beginning to get a bit hungry.

I crossed the street and at last I found a place to have my repast, I spied a Greek restaurant called “Athens West.”  While I was not overpowered with friendliness when I walked in the door, the food was good, very good, and there was plenty of it.  It was more then I could eat and when I asked for a take out container, I finally received a small sample of a smile from the girl at the counter.  I was sure to save room for desert and now I went in search of my bakery.

It was kind of fun walking down the rainy street looking into shop windows.  In one antique shop they had some salt and pepper shakers that made me think of my Grandma Powell.  She had a huge collection of salt and pepper shakers that just fascinated me when I was a small girl. 

 

Just before I got to the pier I came upon “Sweet Jill’s Bakery,” I stepped in and I was overwhelmed by the huge selection (smiles are still scarce).  How do you decide between thick pieces of moist cake, decorated cookies, cupcakes, etc, etc, etc?  When I finally decided on a huge rice crispy treat, I headed for the door, treat in one hand and my umbrella in the other I was ready for the pier. 

I crossed the street in the pouring rain and headed down the ramp toward the sand, a homeless man seeking shelter was wrapped in blankets and sleeping under the pier.  I looked across the huge expanse of wet sand, and decided that the top of the pier was a better idea and headed up. 

It was fun being out on the pier by myself in the pouring rain, yes, it was fun.  The waves seem to crash ashore and the ocean was angry (ok just grumpy), cold and grey.  Two die hard surfers braved the waves, and a lone pelican glided overhead before diving in the surf in search of his dinner.

There are two plaques at the base of the pier; one acknowledges the people who helped to rebuild the pier in 1983 after it was destroyed in a storm (according to my geography professor, caused by El Nino).  The restaurant that stands at the end of the pier had been rebuilt at that time, but now it is closed and deserted, and in the pouring rain it seems forgotten.   

The other plaque says that pier was originally built as a WPA project in 1938, and if you look at the base of the pier you can still see the style of construction from that era.

When I turned around and I walked back down the pier I passed a venturesome family just heading out to the end of the pier, and I decided to call it a day.  I would soon be back home and drying out, but the trip was worth it, and I am glad that I ventured out into the rain.  I am beginning to find out that there are so many things I can see right in my own “back yard.” if I will only take a moment to look around.

By Desiree Hedger

It’s time to move on again.

 

             

I am cursed with two conflicting desires.  I wake up every morning wanting to move forward and experience something new, but at the same time I want to stay right where I am, safe and sound.  I find myself a safe little burrow, move in and prepare to be content, but I am never content for long.  Soon, I peek my nose out of this safe little place and wonder what is going on out in the big wide world.

The time has come to move forward once again, I have resisted as long as I can, but now I must move on.  When I finished my final exam in Geography, I thanked Professor Reck for teaching such an interesting class, and as I walked out of the door, it hit me.  I really was finished.  This was the end of my last class at Golden West College.

I still remember that first day and my very first class, I was so scared, and so unsure.  I wondered if I had what it took to succeed in college, and if I was as smart as I thought I was.  I was so afraid that I would be left behind and that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with all the young people in my classes.  

Well, I did keep up and now I have earned my Associates Degree, or I will have it as soon as they make it official.  On one of my last days at the school, I took a victory lap and walked around the entire campus.  I stopped a moment at every one of my class rooms, and remembered the journey. 

There were times that I felt like I was on top of the world and other days when I so low that I wondered why I was doing this to myself.   Algebra kicked my ass and nearly did me in (Sorry Mr. Lloyd), but when I finished it the victory was so much sweeter because it was so hard won! 

My English teacher Ryane Granados finally convinced me I could write.  She helped me get my paper accepted at the 2010 Honors Conference, and told me that when she read my paper she told herself, “This one can write.”   Then my Journalism teacher Jim Tortolano put the icing on the cake when he published all of my articles in the student newspaper.

But, now it is time to start again, and leave this place that has become so comfortable and safe.

It’s time to move on.     

Last night, I hoisted my "ample behind" out of my safe little spot on the sofa, and went out to see the world.  I am so lucky to live in this marvelously diverse place, and it is about time I started taking advantage of it.  So, I drove over to Golden West College, and I joined the "Moon Festival" that was hosted by the members of the Vietnamese Student Association. 

 I was enchanted as I walked past a beautiful willow tree that seemed to set the mood, and then through the doorway that was festooned with lanterns.  Two young men, An Phan and Kevin Nguyen were practicing their stick dance, the Mua Sap.  Oh, to be so young and nimble again, I did want to join in, but fear of making a fool of myself held me back, maybe next year.

The Moon Festival is focused on children so there were games to play, a bean bag toss, and another game played with giant cloth dice.  The students told me that the "Moon Festival" typically has carnivals and games.  Traditionally, it is a time to celebrate your family and spend time with your children after the harvest.

The Festival takes place on the 15th day of the 8th lunar month which fell on September 19th this year.  "This is when the moon is its brightest and most beautiful, elegant and a trusted friend" said one of the young hosts at the event.  The stories of the festival were told to us by the students, first in Vietnamese and then translated into English. 

They told the story of a man who had a beautiful magic tree, and that this tree could heal the sick.  He loved it and it made him very famous, but his wife became jealous of it.  When the man was not looking she poured some dirty water on the tree hoping to kill it, but the tree began to rise up into the sky.  The man, not wanting to lose the tree grabbed hold of its roots, as it continued to rise. It carried the man up into the sky and he landed on the moon.  This is why during the "Moon Festival" children parade though the streets carrying lanterns, hoping to guide the man home.

The evening ended with a raffle and samples of Moon Cake, the traditional food served during the festival.  The cakes come in all kinds of different flavors, made with eggs, sweet beans, and lotus paste.  The young man in front of me won one of the cakes and when I asked if I could see it, he gave it to me. Yeah!

When the festival was over the students carried their lanterns out of the door,and the light and laughter followed as they made their way into the night.  I could have stayed home watching some mindless show filled with obnoxious commercials, but instead I drove four miles, spent one dollar and saw a little bit of the world. 

There is a wonderful world out there, right before my eyes.  I have been too busy and too lost in my own life to see it.  I am going to get out and look around and see what wonders there are right in my own back yard.

Who needs to travel the world when this incredible place is in your own backyard.  Recently, I met some friends for lunch at a restaurant in Riverside California, and we decided to walk over to the Mission Inn and look around.  I was instantly transformed into some kind of crazy tourist pointing my camera here and there, trying to capture the beauty of this place.

The moment I laid eyes on this staircase I was in love!  When my friend pushed the elevator button so we could return to the main floor I yelled "STOP!"  How could you even consider the elevator when you could descend this remarkable stairway!  We descended four stories to the fountain below, and I felt like a queen!

 What's with these guys, kind of creepy but cool.

 

 

 I saved the best for last, this old spiral staircase that winds all the way up to the roof. Yes, I climbed it all the way to the top!