The Garden of the Gods. I thought it was named because those sandstone formations look so out of place, the gods must have put them there. No. The name stuck when an enterprising young capitalist remarked that the area would be great for a biergarten fit for the gods. I love history-it makes way more sense.
We are back from Silverthorne, Colorado Springs, Woodland Park CO. Cyler tried to hide and stay in Woodland Park but I made him come home with me. Now he wants to move there. Doesn't he know that 80% of the residents are seasonal and that the rest are either ice-pick toting climbers with shark teeth on their boots, or neo-pagans who must live by a geyser to preserve their ritual powers?
Our neighbors were gracious hosts. We ate and slept well. I was kind of nervous about us all being there in a condo built for one family. I stressed about Soren not being patient with the 11yr old boy, about two families with different cultures, and both with Germanic matriarchs with control issues living under one roof. For 2 days I took the pill I use for performance anxiety--my doc and I discovered it helps me calm down and focus so I don't get so nervous eventhough I have never been diagnosed with ADD. (suprised? me too). But that with the thin air, I was yawning ALL THE TIME. I couldn't get a lung full up there at 8700ft above sea level. Not a pleasant signal to my hosts and not symoblic of what I was really feeling--joy. So one day I scrapped the med and tried a cup of coffee. NO YAWNING. I played Dungeons and Dragons with the kids and they had fun--my character is a female 6' redheaded human orphan named Bamki who grew up in a monastery (the kids call her Bam Ki-Ki referring to Bon QuiQui that that latina comedian does). She left before her training was over to have a "walk about." In the first hour of play my character lost half her hit points jumping off a roof and landing on her face. Reading over this, I am convinced I have ADD. So here we are back home-both thinking we should maybe move somewhere else. Old news to our friends--I think of all the good things about living in St George. Then I am reminded of how confused my mom was that after 3 days I only had a red bra and a pink one with purple birds to wash in terms of underwear. I just kept quiet, not wanting to tell her that her 40-something, well-travelled daughter with a master's degree prefers to go commando. Overfamiliarity is probably the worst thing about living in UTAH. That and the dry air, no trees, state income tax and the little-bitty airport.
Woodland Park is a beautiful town. Half hour from a great airport, trees and mountains everywhere, clean air, property available close to schools/everything a SAHM needs, good horse culture. No one will question the lack of underwear in my laundry basket. The worst thing about it is again the dry air-and oh, the winters that last from November to April. A minor (MAJOR) issue for me. I can see Cyler there. He was born for a place like this. He apparently married a tropical amphibian who prefers to have moist warm skin all the time. What are we going to do? "A bird may love a fish, but where will they make a home together?" --Tevia from Fiddler on the Roof-- Since I am the one that needs moist skin, I guess I am the fish.
And so began our last-hours-of-the-drive-home arguement:
Husband: "We need to save $"
Wife (appalled): "Here is THE LIST (aka sad ways I justify my cushy SAHM existence) you can refer to in case you ever have the slightest inclination to suggest that I waste $":
- I use baking soda for shampoo sometimes
- I get GreatClips haircuts most of the time
- I cook at home most of the time
- I make my own home cleaning/spa products
- I groom my own dogs (a feat I tell you, a feat)
- I weed my own yard (a feat I tell you, a feat)
- I give Ellery piano and horseback riding lessons myself
- I don't get botox or cellulite treatments although I am in hellaciously desparate need of both
- I don't have a housekeeper (this one is truly sad, not faux-heroic like the others)
I went on to ask what more I could possibly do so that he can buy dirt in Woodland Park and make me live where I may develop a drinking problem or become a hermit against my will. Poor Cyler-I see that now I may have been defensive.
