Our Bold Adventure Continues

I am happy to report that there is a decided absence of Halloween decorations in Boulder. Not a single illuminated, generator-pumped pumpkin in sight. No Halloween flags or banners. Only one yard I know of is covered in fake spider webs, and it's not that bad. I haven't seen any Halloween sweaters, either. (Maybe they don't know about Christmas sweaters here. One can only hope.) O is very excited about her bunny costume. For the past couple weeks whenever she couldn't find me, I'd hear her say, "maybe mommy's making my bunny costume. I'll go check." Once when I said it was time for me to make dinner she added, hopefully, "and my bunny costume"? M thinks her elephant costume is fun and all, but she's a little less anticipatory about the whole thing. My mistake is that O's costume is a WHITE bunny. Bunnies in real life come in all kinds of colors, I couldn't have selected black, brown, or even spotted? No, I went with the stereo...

We've been here long enough that I don't really get lost anymore. The house is unpacked (though not organized. Don't look in our linen closet). We have a regular grocery store, a regular hardware store, an established rhythm to our week. Though I still feel new, the exciting part, the beginning, is over. And loneliness is creeping in. Building new friendships is the hardest part of moving. I'm keeping in touch with people from our old life (lives) best I can given diverging circumstances, and there are specific people whose absence I feel acutely. That's the thing: I miss specific people, but I also miss just having friends. Heck, I miss having acquaintances. Our neighbors seem nice, and there is even a three-year-old girl two houses away. The people at Quaker Meeting are nice, too. My friend from college who lives here is quite welcoming, but she's busy with her own life and children. I haven't found a play group, or a book group, or a mom's outlet that...

This weekend funnydad said, "It's like we live in a postcard." He's right. The mountains are omnipresent, and they never cease to be beautiful. I can be grumpy, turn west, and that vista just takes my breath away -- cheers me up, if only for a minute. When, on occasion, fog obscures the mountains the whole town feels flat, both figuratively and literally. Things are out of sorts until the sun burns off the fog and gives us back our mountains. In New York fog would sometimes cover the top of the Empire State Building, and when that happened it would be fun, an anomoly, a "hey look" catch-it-before-it's-gone kind of sight. Weird, but if you weren't within sight of the Empire State Building you might miss it. Here, when the mountains are missing there's no escaping it. I feel ungrounded. Boulder's specialness is gone. May as well be in a small town anywhere. Makes me realize how tied to the mountains this community, its identity, and my understa...

Your favorite twins celebrated their third birthday on Sunday. We made a big deal of the big day, and the first thing O said when she woke up that morning was, "are we three yet?" Then, when asked what she wanted for breakfast, M said, "cake." Grandma and Grandpa Murphy were in Boulder for the occassion and we all treked a few miles up north for a day at a kids' farm. The Sunflower Farm in Longmont was a delight -- a rope bridge and tree house, goats and chicken to feed (with gallons of hand sanitizer for when they were done), a baby miniature horse just four days old (and its mommy), old tractors to climb on, tire swings to ride, hay bales to climb on, a hay maze to play in, ride-on toys to ride on, a play house with pretend kitchen toys for making pretend birthday cake, a sand pit to get messy in, a fire pit and marshmallows to roast, and (the highlight) ponies to ride! I'm trying something new here, uploading video. If it works, it'll be a wonderful w...