Postcard from the Butte

I'm perched on top of an unmade bed in a swanky condo in a mountain resort... cool glass of tea at my side... laptop in my lap. And I have the audacity to call this working!

Okay... truthfully, it's the quiet moment at the end of a challenging two weeks. When we last heard from our hero she was "coming down with some sort of cold/flu thing." That cold/flu thing quickly deteriorated to a nasty sinus infection which, three days before the start of an intense teaching week, sent me to the doctor with a plea for miraculous healing. Yikes.

The doctor declared me "yucky" and handed me an armload of pharmaceutical wonders. Ordinarily I try to avoid such things (my last trip to the doc was in 2006), but desperate times called for desperate measures.

 Bob from Montrose, pouring over his sketchbook at Crested Butte.

Thus fortified I arrived here in Crested Butte feeling functional, at least, and have been delighted once again to have great groups of enthusiastic, engaged, and FUN students at the Wildflower Festival. Thank you so much, students "old" and new... it has been so rewarding to work with all of you.

I've got one more day to go before I head back over the Continental Divide to home and all the other projects that were neglected last week when I was on "sofa arrest." I haven't forgotten about the door prizes I owe folks from the 500th Postiversary party, and there are plenty of other projects waiting for my attention, too. (I don't know about you, but I'm feeling like it's been WAY too long since any ink has smudged this space.)

 But first I'm going to go have another look at some wildflower-saturated hillsides.

Having a great time, wish you were here.