Tomorrow being the first day of September marks the beginning of a busy month. There will be a mini-vacation, possibly even two, my birthday, my grandson's birthday, my wife's birthday, and the beginning of Fall in the mountains.
As I say every year, Fall is my favorite time of year to be in Colorado. The leaves will be changing, daytime temperatures will be in the 70s, night times will be a bit chilly in the 40s and 50s, and there normally will be some snow in the mountains, not enough to cause the Elk and Mule Deer to start their annual migration out of the high country and into the low lands, but enough to make the mountains look like Colorado mountains should look.
Of course with Denver only being about 5500 feet in altitude those temperature changes will come later in September than they did in the foothills where I used to live which was about 3000 feet higher than Denver. But I have about 30 years of memories of living in the foothills and their still fresh in my mind.
September is when I would get serious about cutting firewood for the winter. When I heated my house solely with wood burned in two wood stoves. It took several cords a year to keep us warm so I would try to put up at least four or five cords just in case it was a bad winter. Needless to say I became very skilled at sharpening a chainsaw.
And of course September was the beginning of hunting season, mostly archery and black powder. Where I lived the popularity of hunting was second only to watching a Bronco game on TV, so all the talk around town was who saw a herd of Elk, and where, and when would the migration start.
I miss a lot of things about my life back then but one thing I don't miss is shoveling snow. I spent way too many years operating a snow shovel before I bought a gas powered snowblower, or before I had the money to pay to have it done. And all too often my aching back will remind me of all the hours I spent in sub zero weather shoveling snow off my driveway, but I take a couple of Tylenol and the memories fade away.
I did a small project this morning in my daughter's house. There was a large wine rack in the den that looked like it would hold over 100 bottles of wine which was there when her and her husband bought the house. They had no desire to own that much wine so I volunteered to saw out the bottle holders from the cabinets, so now they have extra space for something more useful.
Since doing what I would call "work", I'm now going to have to rest up for the entire weekend from the physical effort involved. And no telling how long it will take me to get over the psychological devastation of having to actually "work", not to mention the irreparable damage to my carefully crafted persona of being a lazy bum.
I erroneously mentioned yesterday that I wanted to leave Monday for Rocky Mountain national Park, which of course a person would have to be totally insane to do since Mondays Labor Day. Making a communication mistake like that is a sign that I have the onset of dementia, or I'm running for president. My actual ETD will be Tuesday morning after they've bulldozed all the wrecked cars off the Highway from the preceding day.
I got a picture of this Damsel fly hanging around waiting for dinner to come by.
And sure enough an unfortunate bug flew by and got invited to dinner.
I took my Granddaughter to Walmart this morning for a little shopping, since her brother is in kindergarten now he's missing out on trips to Walmart and trips to the park, but she wants to go to school like he does so I guess it all evens out.
I still haven't got around to changing the empty propane tank in the little Bronco for a full one. I hope I haven't waited too late already because I've learned that everybody wants a full propane tank before a long weekend and the tank exchange places sometimes run out of full tank's before the weekend is over, which means I wouldn't be able to find one on Monday when I'm hoping to be heading for the high country. But procrastination is what I do, and for some unknown reason things always seem to work out.
I'm not sure why that is, it seems to me I kind of stumble through life, going whichever way the wind blows, without any apparent plan or purpose and yet things always work out okay. In fact sometimes when it comes to full timing it almost seems as if the less planning I do the more fun I have.
One of the reasons for that, and I'm just guessing here, is I'm not very picky, yes there are things that bother me, loud generators come to mind, but for the most part I'm comfortable in just about any situation. The noise of a Walmart parking lot doesn't keep me from enjoying myself, if it's too hot or too cold I can deal with it, and if a boondocking spot is too crowded I look on it as an opportunity to locate an even better boondocking spot.
I absolutely refuse to let worry or stress into my life. There's nothing that will drag you down quicker and take away your ability to live your life the way you want quicker than worry and stress. And I'm not talking about putting on a façade of calm while I'm internalizing all of my problems, I'm talking about I'm not worried inside or out, problems simply don't bother me, I fix them if I can and if I can't I don't worry about them. I know it's easier said than done and I wasn't always like that but I love my full-time life so much I'm not going to let stress take away a single minute of my freedom