The Perfect Pumpkin Pie

So it's that time of year again. Fall produce abounds everywhere you go. Squash of all kinds, curious gourds, apples, and the ubiquitous pumpkin. We grew our own pumpkins this year, pesticide free (bugs don't seem to excited by them), compost pile and all. So I have two symmetrical pumpkins waiting for my experimentation. My husband rotated them while they were growing to maintain such a nice round shape, and they're lovely. Now to chop them in two, gut them, and cook them to a pulp.

I don't seem to have a pumpkin pie recipe amongst all of my files of food. Go figure, I mean I only make them once every year or two, talk about incompetance...sheesh! The moment is upon us though. My co-workers have once again voted overwhelmingly to have a potluck. That haphazard and random collection of food that no one normally serves together, but when taken away from their natural habit find is perfectly acceptable gastro-intestinal delight. Maalox milkshakes will be served as a final course for those who deem it necessary.

I have them all excited about a FRESH, not canned, pumpkin pie. With some scouring of the internet, I have found a potential recipe for home-grown, fresh pumpkin, that has a lot of potential. It must be perfect, as a tribute to the long, (mostly) patient waiting for the pumpkins to ripen, not to mention to show off a little and I don't serve people nastiness. A little anal, yes, but worth the effort. So we'll see how it all turns out.

I Can't Remember My Trip to Everest

The reason for this is because you killed too many brain cells while enjoying your climb to the oxygen deficient regions of the planet. This is not worth of a Discovery Channel documentary. Wow, you have found yet another way to make people even stupider. Congratulations, now go take care of that frostbite.

My better half was pointing out these little details as we were watching a commercial for an upcoming show. When someone tells you that people were not meant to be at such an altitude, it would seem reasonable to leave it alone. Not so to the once-rational and coherent climber who continues on in its quest for vanity and self-gratification.

If you're one of these odd little people who like to tempt the fates and do not care about your brain cells, let me put it as simply as I can since that is all you can now understand. No oxygen, duh. That will be why you can not remember your trip to Everest, better take a camera.

Waste

I have a lot of thoughts while drinking a cup of coffee in the morning. Today it's about how a lot of people do not care about the land they inhabit, nor the wasteful attitudes that they perpetuate. No matter how many ads they see about being good stewards of the earth, air, and water, they still throw trash out their car windows and refuse to throw aluminum cans in the bin next to the trash can. How hard can it be? Recently I was describing the lackadaisical attitude of people who visit the area and don't care about the environment since they don't live here. Her response was, oh well, who cares anyway? "I care," I replied in frustration, which took her aback. My friend for a moment saw that environmental awareness and responsibility has a real human face and body, not just a bunch of abbreviated letters, that some people really do CARE. I was confused, I had spent a moment of my life telling a story to someone who I thought was understanding my ideals, only to realize that they don't really care either. Insightful, yet disappointing.

Well and good, how nice, tree-hugging, blah, blah, blah, you say? True, along with the flippant attitude people have about every place being their personal playground to trash, goes the death of personal respect for other individuals. The prevailing attitude is get out of my way, can't you see I'm talking about some really important matters on my cell phone (what kind of juice does your boyfriend's cousin like, in case he ever might stop by, and oh, can you staple everything on my desk together immediately, my shoelaces are too tight, and are you sitting or standing right now?). You know, really important stuff, we all talk about it, but some of us are polite enough to hold those thoughts just long enough to pause and communicate with the world we are stumbling through.

Doesn't seem like the land and cell phones have much to do with each other? It's all about respect, about integrity, and having the good manners of a guest, whether you're a guest in the forest, a place of business, or your family's home. If you're one of those who lack genuine respect for others and yourself, give it a try, and for everyone else it's a reminder to keep up the effort. Yes, it CAN be a little better world that we can change with our own attitudes. Take a moment and evaluate your own attitude, see what you can do to make it better, to be less wastefull.

The Last Good Place

I guess everyone gets tired of the area where they live. People go on vacations to get away from it. I'm not sick of the land (you don't get tired of the scenery in western Colorado). I've spent about two-thirds of my life in the mountains, love being outside, like the climate. I'm tired of the changes though, I'm tired of the changes that come with excessive population growth.

True, it is inevitable. Change must happen, but it's not for the better. It's destroying what once was beautiful, ruining the land, losing the charm. It's been gradual, now it's explosive. People have moved in from all over the country for the new jobs that are available, but they don't love the land nor understand it. Everyone is entitled to make a living, but maybe some things should be left untouched. When do you say no, we can't take any more people, when? When do we say no more rude people, no more people who don't like being here, no more destroying why I moved here in the first place? Now violence is becoming common place where it once was rare, overcrowding is absurd, and only anger and resentment are left. Still, it is inevitable, and we all knew it would happen, just not so soon or so fast.

So what once was a good place now is ruined, the magic and wonder is gone, and it may be time to move on. All you can hope is that you'll find some place that still calls to you, that makes you glad to get up everyday, that you still care about. A land where other people still care, who love it too. For each person the call is different, everyone has their own ideal. Maybe I'm too much of an idealist, but somewhere there is the last good place. I'll find it, but I'm an impatient person, and the desire to move on is overwhelming, all-consuming, almost an obsession.