Ink A Bink A Bottle Of Ink

We go together like rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong. Together forever like fricks and fracks, Franny and Zooey, In-n-Out, Bill and Ted, Limbaugh and Percocet, ass and Kardashians, Garfield and pizza, Harold and Maude, hippies and patchouli, warm cookies and cold milk, pestles and mortars.

You guys are catching my drift. Presumably.

These are the exceptional godparents to our tiny Sassy Pants. On her 3rd birthday she was gifted a book of temporary "tardoos" and ever since she's been strutting around preschool like the bad ass, inked up, queen bee that she is. 

Now that she's ripened to the age of 4 and a half, my husband and I have decided she needs to start pulling some of her own weight around here. After all, 34 pounds takes a week's worth of pay to feed. 

She has designated chores like feeding the pup, dusting the tables, making her bed, re-roofing the house, re-wiring the dimmer switches, paving the driveway, and tiling the kitchen floors. These things earn her about $5 a week which she immediately tosses into her treasure box for safe keeping. 

Last month she earned enough to buy herself the much sought after Barbie Pearl Princess dress (which rocked high fashion runways around the world) and this month she has her eyes on its matching scooter counterpart. 

Once one gets that taste of success, one often finds it difficult to go back.

Enter- The Traditional Summer Lemonade Stand:

Yeah, no.

If you're going to do a stand, then do something amazing. 

Go big or get outta here.

There are lemonade booths on every corner of every suburb around America as we speak. But my kiddo is a savvy trend setter, a think-outside-the-box entrepreneur, and a fashion icon. She looks other kids in the face and laughs at their mediocrity due to her badassness. She never cries, she eats broken glass for breakfast and she knows how to work the system. 

Look at her game face. 

Stern yet fair, approachable, and totally relevant. 

"Keep your eyes on the prize," she says.

"They won't come to me?" She says. 

"That's fine. I will go to them," she says.

The girl waved down every passing car and eventually had a waiting line down the street. Motorcyclists pulled over, couples came from their houses, kids ran over from the neighborhood park. Our security was breaking up fights, people were bowled over to get to the front, elbows were thrown, punches were bountiful.  It was an anarchy situation behind the red rope. 

She made $14 in 45 minutes. 

"That's enough for now," she says. "Maybe I'll come back out tomorrow when I need cash for that My Little Pony I've been eyeballing."

She's so cool.

The Magnet Mission

The 22 Spanish mission churches of California are very near and dear to my heart. Not because I'm religious or into period architecture or fountain designs or anything like that. Mostly because many years ago, I got drunk and put it on my bucket list to collect a magnet from every one of them. 

Now it's become a personal challenge. 

Plus,

 you know, 

I think they're pretty buildings.

So the previous visit to California we stayed mainly down in Orange County, however this time was predominantly up in LA. It was pretty much a straight shot from my mom's house to the San Fernando Rey De Espana Mission and from there it was only another hour up to the Mission Buenaventura. 

The San Fernando Rey De Espana mission is by far the coolest in pop culture history for a couple of reasons.  For one, it's the burial place of Bob Hope and his family which I had no idea when randomly stumbling on his tomb in the back gardens. (It's also the burial place of Ritchie Valens and Fred from I Love Lucy!)

For two, this mission is where they filmed the scenes from the Alamo in Pee Wee's Big Adventure! Now, we all know how I feel about the Pee Wee movies so this made the two hours in the car the best two hours of the trip. I've officially seen the same Alamo as the same person who rode in a car with Large Marge. My life is pretty much validated at this point. 

Next stop was a quick 45 minute to drive up the 101 to Ventura. Upon pulling into the parking spot, you can see immediately how much smaller and non secluded this second mission was. We put 20 minutes in the parking meter and didn't even use 5 of them. There were homeless people everywhere and the lady working the counter had a unnecessary attitude that made me want to kick her ass. Plus their magnet selection sucked. 

After a pit stop for milk shakes and burgers at my beloved In-N-Out, we headed back down to Long Beach and it was really just a perfect palm tree day hanging out with my mom and my baby girl. 

So I'm on magnet 9 out of 22, not too shabby! Looks like a trip to Northern California is in order to finish up the collection! Anyone want to put me up for a week?

The Floods

The storm that caught all of us off guard is continuing to kick our asses. We aren't knocked out, but we're definitely on our knees with some pretty nasty black eyes. You know, the kind that waste no time and bruise right away...

The flood waters have reached over 200 miles so far and have devastated 17 counties, mine being one of them. The loss of life, of land, and of property is heartbreaking. 19,000 homes have been damaged and just over 1,500 of those are completely destroyed.

President Obama declared Boulder County, El Paso County, and our county of Larimer in a state of emergency on the 13th of September and a few days later added 12 more Colorado counties.

I haven't made it to Boulder, which was hit the worst getting 21 inches of rain in 6 days. Boulder Creek officials reported they had more than 5000 cubic feet of water per second when the average runs between 150 - 200.

I have had a chance to drive around certain parts of Larimer County to check out the damage and it is absolutely awful. Fort Collins sits on the banks of the Cache La Poudre River and just to the South of the Big Thompson River, both which have received catastrophic flash floods.

I was able to find a handful of pictures taken from the News and other websites to show the damaged spots which our family has close ties to.

In April, I surprised my husband with a weekend away in Estes Park. One of the top five things I wanted to do was visit the world famous Saint Malo Church hidden in the valley between Estes and Allenspark.

Although the church itself received minimal damage, the run off from the water left the valley wiped out.

The very first day our family arrived in Colorado after our move from California, we drove directly from the airport to the Alluvial Fan in Rocky Mountain National Park. It is a place I have very fond memories of as a kid and wanted to make the same for my own child.

One of her favorite things was to sit by the bridge and throw rocks in the water.

The bridge is now partially missing and was tossed half way down the mountain onto its side.

I've spent more time wandering the streets of Estes Park than any other town. I've literally spent more time here than the downtown of Fort Collins. Something about its small town charm and the mom and pop shops  make it worth the long drive up the canyon and we come at least once a month.

My friend Marsh Blake owns Blake Trading, the store on the far right. She sent me this pic to show the water mark on her store front. Notice the water is lapping over the bench in the middle-left of the picture. She had 4 inches of mud that had to be shoveled from her carpet once the water receded and thousands of dollars in damage to merchandise and displays.

In January, I took Kalynn up the canyon for the Estes Park Winterfest so she could ride the ponies, get her face painted, and watch the balloon animals be constructed.

The same parking lot is straight mud now.

When Jason got his Colorado fishing licence, the very first place he wanted to fish was Lake Estes.

It is so filled with debris, it's almost unrecognizable.

My favorite view in the entire state is completely destroyed.

Although put on the highest priority, there are so many spots on Highway 34 that are missing, it could take a year to repair.

A few months ago, I wrote a post about the little town of Glen Haven and how the tiny general store makes the best fresh cinnamon rolls I've ever had in my life.

Glen Haven was one of the worst to get hit. The Town Hall is collapsed, the general store is gutted, the fire department is completely gone, not even it's bare structure was left standing.

The roads were washed away. The empty hole on the left is where the fire department used to stand.

Kalynn's favorite spot to watch the creek and climb in the Indian tee pee didn't survive.

Now it is just a pile of broken trees and a spot for washed up remains to be collected.

At the bottom of Highway 34 where the canyon meets Loveland, is the Dam Store. The best store by a dam! Its tall structure in the back of the building sits just high enough to climb all the way to the top and see not only the highway 34 damn, but also the brown water pipe that runs through the Front Range and part of the Rockies.

The pipe is still standing strong, but the highway itself is missing. The debris that has traveled from the devastated cabins, homes, hotels and businesses all the way up the canyon is now piling at the bottom of the foothills.

As for my beloved Dam Store, they're still mostly intact! The back end of the building was taken off, but I've heard unconfirmed reports that the staircase tower and the front room of the store are still there. 

Up the Poudre Canyon, closest to Fort Collins, the damage is unfortunately just as bad. The road we travel to go camping is devoured.

All of the bridges in Fort Collins were closed for days because they were either completely missing or needed the foundation inspected before reopening.  

Kalynn loves the creepy creatures at the  Swetsville Zoo right outside Fort Collins in Timnath, Colorado.

Unfortunately, most of them were head deep under water when the were found the morning of September 13th.

We may require a little love, but we won't be held down for too long.

We've seen the sun poke through the clouds this last few days and it is reaching down with a helping hand to help us back up again.

Yes, we'll be ok. We're strong.

Mountain Strong.

Follow me now on Instagram! @thebrighterwriter

Rocky Mountain Way

Last Summer, I wrote a list of things I wanted to see and experience in this breathtakingly beautiful state of Colorado. I was fresh off the move to Fort Collins from Orange County, California and all I wanted to do was just day trip every tiny corner of "God's Country" that I could find. I wanted to really see for myself why everyone seems to be so in love with the Rocky Mountains.

Since then, I've learned. 

Oh, I've learned!

Colorado has no rival. 

There's no place in the world like the Rocky Mountain range.

It is absolutely stunning. 

And it isn't just the views, it's the people. 

Mountain people are of another breed.

So anyway, last week we took a trip up through Rocky Mountain National Park to one of the stopping points of the Continental Divide which was on my Colorado bucket list from last summer. Although I've driven the canyon up to Estes Park many many times in my life, I've always taken the same highway 34. For whatever reason, it never dawned on me that there may be another route up. So when my sister took a right at the Glen Haven split, I was a little unsure as to why. 

But then I smelled the smell and everything became very clear. 

I'm telling you, these cinnamon rolls are taste bud blowing delicious. They're gooey, they're sloppy, they're melt in your mouthy. I ate mine in record breaking time. 

The whole town has 5 buildings. The Glen Haven General Store, a fire department, a bed and breakfast, a trading post and a town hall. With a town population of 11 (I assume) there was still a line out the door for these cinnamon rolls. Cyclists, townies and tourists come from all over Colorado and Wyoming for these things. I'm not even kidding.   

There's a perfect cinnamon eating spot just around the corner with a tiny picnic table nudged against an old truck and Indian teepee.

Once we had our cinnamon and coffee fix, we headed up Devil's Gulch Road which dropped us off at the entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park for our ride up to Alpine Visitor Center.

The visitor center is a nice little resting place to decide whether you'll make your way to the other side of the continent, or return to your original side. It's only open from May through October because of Winter snow conditions and sits just 2 miles North of the highest point of Trail Ridge Road.

The views of the Alpine Tundra from up here are out of control, especially if you take the time to climb to the very top.

One of us wasn't very happy about it.

But we did it. 

The other one of us was twirling around because the hills are alive with the sound of music...

Just across the street of the visitor center is the beginning of the Ute Indian trail. It's believed that these Indians traveled by foot thousands and thousands of years ago to get through the Rocky Mountains going from East to West. To walk a small portion of something made so many years ago is truly humbling. It was one of those times I reminded myself that I'm just a tiny speck when it comes to the history of our giant world.

Last fall, an illegal campfire sparked a forest fire that burned from October to December. In late November, a crazy strong wind storm doubled the size of the fire and pushed it 3 miles in just over half an hour taking out a large chunk of the historic Ute Indian Trail. During its peak there were more than 600 firefighters on the line trying to contain the blaze. The Fern Lake Fire is the largest forest fire in Rocky Mountain National Park history.

Stupid people...

Anyway,

Next stop, The Continental Divide!

I was so excited to cross off something from my Colorado bucket list but my crabby kid was way beyond nap time, hungry, over the car ride and ready to be back in civilization with Bubble Guppies and her Cabbage Patch kids. I was annoyed and she wouldn't look at the camera. What you see is what you get.

The Continental divide runs high peak to high peak all the way from the Bering Strait to the Strait of Magellan and separates the drainage of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans.
There we were, me and my kid, on opposite sides of the continent and opposite sides of the excitement spectrum. It honestly couldn't have been a more fitting circumstance.

We also got to check out the Poudre Lake, which starts the beginning of the Cache La Poudre River. This is a river with which we are very familiar. The Poudre's headwaters are located right in our town of Fort Collins, we camped next to it last summer and we visited it on our day trip up Poudre Canyon. Cache La Poudre literally means "hide the powder" in French referring to a giant snow storm in the 1820's which forced French trappers to hide their gun powder in the river banks.  

All in all, it was a great trip with my family (of which you'll see no pictures of because I never got their permission) and I can't wait to do it again in the future when my daughter is a little bit older. Maybe next time we'll make it all the way to Grand Lake? You never know...