Tag Archive | Rocky

Little Rocky

I’m grateful I rescued this little fella a dozen or so years ago from an untenable situation; grateful Pamela suggested a new person for him; grateful Deborah wanted him. I’m grateful he’s been in my life since then, and feels comfortable and safe at my home, and gets along with all the animals here. I’m grateful he enjoyed his week here, and grateful his mama came home safely to pick him up this evening. I’m grateful for his exceptional example of the skill of relaxation.

Zoom Cooking with Amy: Carrot Pancakes

I’ve really missed Zoom cooking with Amy in the six weeks that my tendon has been healing. I’m grateful for the diagnosis and the therapy, and the home exercises prescribed by OT Marla, and that I have had the dedication to be compliant. I can do so much more with my left hand now than I could two months ago, and with much less pain. Amy was up for spontaneous Zoom cooking, and went out to buy carrots to make the recipe I’ve been dreaming about for weeks.

With the second carrot harvest yesterday, and some leftover store-bought carrots, I needed to use up some, and sent Amy this recipe that looked too good to pass up. I didn’t have yogurt, so made a tomato-herb-sour cream sauce; without enough cilantro in the garden, I added parsley to the carrot-egg-garbanzo flour pancakes. They were delicious! I’m grateful for carrots from the garden, for ranch-fresh eggs, for improvisation; for bacon fat and olive oil, and for all the people and processes involved in getting these staples into my kitchen from where they originated; I’m grateful for the internet, and all the hundreds or thousands of people, and the materials, engineering, and ingenuity that cause the internet to come into my house and open the entire world to my curiosity and appreciation. I’m grateful for Zoom cooking with Amy, who’s been my friend for fifty years.

Carrot Pancakes with Salted Yogurt, minus the salted yogurt. So simple, so delicious!
I’m also grateful for the opportunity to help Deb by keeping Rocky for a week while she travels into the maw of Henri; I’m grateful to spend time with this fierce, adorable little terrier that I rescued thirteen years ago from an untenable situation.

a drive to town

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Riding with my neighbor down the hill I realized I had an opportunity not to miss. I asked her to pull over at the bottom, in the hairpin turn where Buck Canyon emerges and crosses under the road on its path to the Smith Fork River. She opened the sunroof and let me stand on the seat and ride like a prom queen up the hill to Crawford, slowing down or stopping when I asked.

Looking back uphill from the hairpin turn.

Looking back uphill from the hairpin turn.

Heading towards the Smith Fork.

Heading towards the Smith Fork.

Crossing the Smith Fork.

Crossing the Smith Fork.

Looking down into the Smith Fork past the power line.

Looking down into the Smith Fork past the power line.

Towards the Crawford Reservoir dam, and beyond, Mendicant Ridge.

Towards the Crawford Reservoir dam, and beyond, Mendicant Ridge.

On the other side of town, coming down Buckskin Pass to Piburn Flats.

On the other side of town, coming down Buckskin Pass to Piburn Flats.

Rocky on my knee looking out the window to Needle Rock with the Sleeping Indian beyond clothed in snow.

Rocky on my knee looking out the window to Needle Rock with the Sleeping Indian beyond clothed in snow.

Heading home, we took the back road cut from 92 to Hotchkiss to scoot past the stripe painters poking along the highway.

Heading home, we took the back road cut from 92 to Hotchkiss to scoot past the stripe painters poking along the highway.

We stopped at the Hotchkiss bridge so I could shoot the river...

We stopped at the Hotchkiss bridge so I could shoot the river…

... and pulled out right behind the stripe painter!

… and pulled out right behind the stripe painter!