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It’s snowing in Boulder — nothing better from my point of view. At home in Cincinnati, we get endless gray skies punctuated with a bit of rain. Here, mounds of lovely fluffy snow with the promise of the return of the sunshine within a couple of days.

I shall spend my day doing Pilates (they have a whole Institute here for the stuff!) and writing. And inevitably, I shall end up writing about sunshine and summer in Cincinnati. I can’t stand the irony!

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As  break today from searing heat, we get tremendous thunderstorms to wake us up. This is not the sort of thunderstorm like we have in Colorado that will leave the sky when it is through. This is an Ohio thunderstorm which will leave when it feels like doing so, and not a moment before.

Anthropomorphising Thunderstorms gets you nowhere in real life, but it amuses the brain while the storm lingers.

The trip to the dentist for teeth cleaning suddenly takes on biblical proportions: I voyage through thunder and torrential rain to have my teeth cleaned. Maybe I should read Job to get a bit of perspective on this thing.

In Santa Barbara last week, I nearly froze from the morning fogs that can’t be kept out, can’t be avoided. I purchased an expensive sweater and wandered through Sid’s workshop in that and some thick ugly socks.

This evening, it’s 90°F here in the People’s Republic of Boulder Colorado and I am on the porch huddling in the shadows, writing. On the porch, I have a spacious view of the porches of the condo building on the other side of the alley from us. They watch us and we watch them.

The cat lady’s cat is out for its evening air and the couple directly across are having an involved conversation, but about what is impossible to tell because they’ve turned their couch so they’re facing away.

This is much better than being inside watching television (she tells herself as she stares into the laptop screen).

The air is lighter and cleaner here. I feel healthy just walking down to my favorite coffee house.

Actually, my favorite coffee house here is one of about four different ones around here. Five, maybe. Everyone has a favorite.

The plains intersect with the mountains right here. I can drive for ten minutes into the Front Range and be a thousand feet higher than I am sitting here in our home.

Two environments — plains and mountains — and several different coffee houses.

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Again and again. I love traveling, but hate the suspension of normal reality while it occurs. But we are here, nevertheless, as you see by the last post of beautiful Boulder Creek at almost-flood stage.

If only I could get the dog and the cats here somehow, we would be all set and have little reason to go back to Cincinnati, especially that now you can get Graeter’s ice cream shipped anywhere. Hmm, I’m talking myself out of Cincinnati as I type.

Benefit of staying here forever: I never have to drive through Kansas again.

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