a red velvet night looking at the mountains [from a screened in porch]

Monday morning was a good mail day. I got a hilarious list of how to stay sexy this summer by that Megan M. lady that was on Will and Grace and is married to Nick Offerman from Parks and Rec. Anyway, the last advice is to spend time in a yacht. Or a yurt. Spectacular yurt reference finder, Katie, I thank you for the laugh and the beautiful envelope.

Next I set my eyes on a hard backed, handmade envelope which was taped up mysteriously like previous mail that featured photos of Xena on the dog beds and here is what I found, much to my surprise:

At first glance, it appears to be a lovely montage of photos of the beloved Warrior Princess, but upon closer inspection, I noticed too many stripes and not enough mottled color. Curious. Looking closer, I see that that is my comforter, and my cat's bed, but some of these photos are of another familiar cat! Winchester, the beloved cat of the Walsh/Momsens (Catsitter Extraordinairres), has moved in and is sharing Xena's kingdom with her!!! I find this entirely delightful and am so excited that it worked out. Xena has not traditionally enjoyed sharing space with other cats, evidently hiding most of the time, but it sounds like she treats Winchester primarily how she treats the dogs: completely indifferently unless they come too close which forces her to hiss and bat at them. I think Winnie has a crush on her, but then again, I'm not there to see it.

In other news, Bryan and I had a dance party Tuesday night in the yurt. We got some terrible photos of it for you.

Last night we had dinner at the Duennebiers, sitting on their screen porch (even the floorboards have screens under them; these people know how insistent these skeeters are), looking out at the mountains. If I lived there, I'd never leave. When it came time for dessert, Kate brought out some cups to eat it out of, then some raspberries. Delicious dessert, right? But no, all of a sudden, she busts out BEN & JERRY'S RED VELVET ICE CREAM! The squealing probably woke the neighbors baby. Best night ever.

Then on our way home, as we passed the cabin named Poacher's Paradise Lodge, a barred owl was sitting on the side of the road (catching prey?). When we came up and stopped behind it, it took flight. We had seen an owl flying in that area recently, so to see if up close like that was a real gift. I haven't mentioned this, but there is an owl that hangs at the campground a lot, often at our site, taunting the dogs in the night. We want to listen to the haunting hooting, but the dogs insist on barking over it. Great.

Bread Loaf has a dance every summer here called the Suppressed Desires Dance. You are supposed to dress up as your suppressed desire, so my plan was to dress up as a whitewater raft guide, complete with dirty clothes, pfd (with a beer tucked into the top for when shit gets gnarly out there), board shorts, a baseball cap with a cigarette tucked into the side, and a paddle by my side. SEriously, it is my suppressed desire to quit my job and learn how to guide. The monkey wrench in there is that I forgot the pfd and paddle, so pretty much it's not going to happen. Anyway, Bryan's idea was some variation of this idea: tape a sign to his shirt that says, "I'm at home," or create a cutout version of us at home, away from here. Bahahahhaha.

Did I mention that I should be writing one of my really long final papers?