Little Coffee Beans

finding center

Couples therapy. Family therapy. Heck, it's just good therapy, that Big White Van. And the funny thing is this - it doesn't really matter where we go in that Big White Van. It could be five miles away at our local state park, or three hundred miles away, to the desert. The effect it has on us as individuals and as a family is apparent. We find our center. We come together. And the rest is just plain ol' fun.

We love that Big White Van.

On this first weekend out of the camping season we headed for the Colorado desert. The warmth, those red rocks and the expansive view keeps us coming year after year. Early spring finds Steve and I both starting to crave the desert. There's just something so alluring about the alien-like landscape. 

Second to the red rocks, I most appreciate the plant life. It takes an unworldly strength to survive in the harsh environment of the desert and the little plants, flowers and cactus that do so are quite beautiful. 

Even after months away from life in the Van, we easily find our rhythm. Steve and I each have our list of chores that we're responsible for to make it all happen. It takes quite a bit of effort to pull it off, but it's so worth it.

A typical weekend, no matter where we overnight, finds us waking in the morning to Zinnia's sweet voice (and face whacking). After the appropriate amount of snuggling, Steve is up to make our coffee while Zinnia and I play and read under the warmth of the sleeping bags. 

Breakfast usually consists of eggs and toast grilled in the cast iron pan. After that's inhaled then our attention shifts to preparing for the day's hike. We spend our mornings as a family wandering the trail du-jour. Our trail lunch is almost always avocado, cheese, mustard and pickle sandwiches. I don't know what it is about that combo, but for years and years this has been our go-to hiking lunch.

These days we time our morning hikes with nap time. While Zinnia naps in the van, Steve heads out for two hours of solo time - this may include hitting the trails on his mountain unicycle (muni), taking a trail run or fly fishing. This break in the day gives all of us the time to find our personal center. Whether I read, sunbathe or sleep, I'm rested and ready for the afternoon. And Steve, well he needs intense exercise daily to find his center. We do what works for each of us. When we come together again as family, we've all had our needs met and we're ready to connect to each other again.

After three days out in the van we return home feeling like we were out a week. 

Yep, that's good therapy.

seven things :: desert love

 Thankful. Smiling. Laughing. Appreciating. Adoring.

Loving. Holding. Remembering. Sharing. 

Here are seven little things {about the desert} that I'm loving today.

....................................................................................................................................................................................................................

:: The smallest trickle of water supports so much life.

:: The pops of cactus in bloom.

:: The colorful collared lizard, one of six we saw.

:: The mysteries of what is left behind.

:: Warm oatmeal on a chilly camping morning.

:: The green of the desert is brighter than any other.

:: Spending the morning playing in a wash.

What simple little things are you loving today?

so long {free} Prius

Well it feels like that nine weeks flew by. I had grand intentions of updating regularly about our test driving experiences with the plug-in Prius, but at the end of the day, I suppose blogging about cars (even free cars) is not exactly my cup of tea.

The coolest thing about our experience with this car is the fact that we were able to charge it via our solar panels, therefore, all of my errands were nearly 100% solar powered. How cool is that? Pretty cool, I'd say.  

However, there's the ginormous pink elephant of a question of whether or not the environmental cost of manufacturing this vehicle is worth the perceived "green-ness" of driving it? I've been hearing for years that the Prius is not as "green" as people like to think it is. In fact, it's a lot easier to find negative commentary about the Prius than positive. Apparently research is showing that while the Prius uses less fuel than most vehicles (keeping the air you breathe cleaner), the manufacturing and disposal of the nickel-metal batteries that power the hybrids are detrimental to the environment (where the metal is mined, and where/how the batteries are manufactured and disposed of). It seems like a classic NIMBY (not in my back yard) problem. We can feel good about our surrounding environment driving a Prius, knowing that we're not spewing fumes - but across the way - there are environmental atrocities happening in order to mine and manufacture the batteries, and then years later, to dispose of them.  It's like caring about this environment over here, but not that one, over there. 

For example, this report suggests that a Hummer (cringe) is, in fact more environmentally sound than the Prius. Yikes! That's a scary thought. And this article concludes that, "If you want your commute to have as little impact on the environment as possible, the Prius is one of the worst (and most expensive) ways to do it." The author goes on to say that the best car for the environment is a diesel, like our Golf, especially if it's run on recycled bio-fuels. I do love our Golf, but it's a bit small now that our life includes a car seat... although they do make TDI wagons. Hmm. (Honey...? Maybe a TDI wagon is in our future?)

There's so much information on the web about the environmental impact of the Prius. As with anything on the internet, it's hard to decipher fact from fiction, but there are recurring themes across the board. I'm not sure that accurate comparisons are available for the plug-in model and if its energy usage varies much from a standard hybrid (again, we charged our batteries from our solar panels - which went carbon neutral last year - not a coal fired plant). But at the end of the day, those batteries were built somewhere, and they'll have to be disposed somewhere. I'm neither geeky enough nor motivated enough to figure all of this out on my own (that's what my man is for). Picking a vehicle that's best for hauling people, kids and stuff requires a lot of research if one is to approach the question considering the environmental impact of our decision, and honestly, we can't afford not to consider that, now can we? More and more it seems like a 10 year old diesel vehicle may be the way forward.

Having said all of that, I'm happy that we were given the opportunity to test-drive the plug-in Prius and I'm a little bummed to have to give it back today. The experience was like winning the lottery even though we had to give back all the prizes. The plug-in Prius is a good looking car with a cool user interface and it offers a comfortable ride. And, I have to say, just as many other Prius drivers report, I felt good about myself while driving it (now that's good marketing).

Time to move back into our little Golf.

(Oh, and here's the legal disclaimers I have to include per Toyota's request: (i) the Permitted User received complimentary use of the 2010 Plug In Prius; (ii) the statements made are those of the Permitted User and not of Toyota, and only reflect the Permitted User's experience, which may not be representative of all users' experiences and (iii) Toyota does not warrant the accuracy, completeness and /or applicability of the information to any particular circumstance.) 

It was one of those weekends

One dirt road {blocked by snow} led to another and to another and to another.

And to still another.

This is our most super-wicked-extra-favorite valley and we come here every year to bask in all its wildflower glory. Well, do you see all that snow in the distance? Yep, that's where we usually camp when we make our annual July trip. This year we came in June. 
 

Locals will tell you that this region has three seasons - July, August & Winter. 

Well it might not still be winter up there, but it is most definitely early spring.

So, we changed location and found a place to do our thing.

 

 

 

 

 It was one of those weekends, where nothing went as planned, and you know what? It was all right anyway. 

Gratefully celebrating the bestest Dada I know!

Flashback :: June of 1994

Today is an anniversary for me ~ It's been 17 years since I packed up and left Georgia, one month before my 20^th birthday. I was eager to get out of the south - I wanted the great wide open. I wanted it NOW.

I was naive. I was brave. I may have been a little scared.

My 1975 pink VW Beetle was the getaway car. 

(Image taken from my teenage scrapbook - July 1990 - this car was my 16^th birthday present from my dad)

My dad (and mechanic) told me my car would "never make it," as he attached a tow bar to the front axle. "Just in case you need a lift," he mumbled.  That was his way of saying please, don't leave. I had faith in my bug. And in my myself. Though there were a few stops along the way when my car inexplicably stopped running. I'd stand on the side of the road and throw rocks into the fields until she rested and was ready to turn over again. And she always did.  I  loved that bug.

My mom cried that morning as I stuffed the last bag into the hood of my bug. It was early. So early that it was still dark outside. It was unusual for me to be up that early, in those days. Mom knew I'd make it, but her tears pleaded, please, don't leave.  She quietly wrung her hands and chewed her cheek as the screen door slammed behind me. "I'll call you from the road," I shouted from the car window. 

The bug's headlights cut through summer's morning fog as I pulled out of the driveway. I had a roll of dimes and $500 in traveler's checks in my pocket and I was outta there. 

I called mom from pay phones along the way, just as I'd promised.

(Photo taken by Mom during her first visit to Colorado - November 1994)

I made it to Colorado in three days. Or was it four? My bug made the 1,412 mile trip, just fine. Fortunately, I never needed that lift. 

In three years I'll have been here half.my.life which feels like an incredibly long time, when I say it out loud. When people ask me where I'm from I tend to pause before answering. I've always considered myself a Southern girl who fell in love with the Rockies, but that doesn't quite answer the question, now does it?

I guess what I've come to is this:  I was raised in Georgia, but I grew up in Colorado. Half there. Half here.

Half and half makes the whole.

A Rocky Mountain Peach.