Daily Laughs

I'm in the car and my brother, sitting behind me, keeps creeping on me with his tortoise.
"Hi tortoise," I say to it.
"Rawr," he replies. " Meow. Woof. Woof. Hiss."
"Dallin," I tell him, " I think your tortoise has identity crisis."
"No, he's just good at impressions," Dallin replies, then continuing where he left off, "Cow. Cow."
In the midst of all this, Dallin accidentally drops his tortoise.
"Baa. Help me."
Car trips with Dallin are never boring.

Then later this same day I'm asked if I would like to join my mom and grandma in a run to Costco to pick up a watermelon. Shopping with those two is like spending an afternoon with two comedians on laughing gas. And I'm not about to miss out on that.
Though, knowing our luck, perhaps we shouldn't have been so surprised, we were still disappointed to find that Costco was clean out of watermelons.
Grandma decides to ask if they have any more in the back somewhere, and for once, we're in luck. A shipment just arrived and they hadn't yet unloaded them from the truck. They'd be happy to bring one out for us.
"But what if it's not ripe enough? We've got to thunk them to check," says Mom after the kind Costco employee has gone to fetch our watermelon.
When our watermelon arrives, Mom gives it a good knock while Grandma and I wait for its interpretation.
"It's not quite ripe enough," says Mom.
She's told me how the thunk method works, but she's the expert.
We debate whether or not to put it back. "We could ask them if we could go back and thunk the watermelons."
Dallin gives her a look and suggests we not.
In mock reply, Mom lowers her glasses to the tip of her nose and looking rather like professor McGonigal, proceeds to enact her request, "Excuse me, I'm getting my PHD in the resonate tonal qualities of watermelon and was wondering if I could thunk your watermelons."

Dallin requests to hide in the car.
We were cracking up for a solid five minutes.
In the end, we did ask if we could go back to thunk the watermelons in order to compare their ripeness, but were told that we could not go back to the unloading area, and not just because of our seemingly absurd request.
After all that, we just had to keep the watermelon.
By tomorrow when we cut it up we'll know whether it is in fact not quite ripe. I'll let you know. But I'll say this, the thunk method: it works. And Mom's usually right.
Either way, it was worth the laughs.

Candidly,

Cookie

The Hills Are Alive

Early in July, we took a family trip to Telluride Colorado. Every moment of it was doused in deja vu and a light mist of nostalgia. We went nearly every summer when I was younger, and since then when I pictured paradise, I would picture Telluride Colorado, not just because of the breath-taking scenery, but because that place is packed with fun-filled memories of family. We haven't been back in quite a few years, and in our absence, time has donned rose-tinted glasses. I was slightly apprehensive to return and find it not as grand as I remembered, but what I found is that the mountain streams are flowing with the waters of Tuck Everlasting. Not much changes in Telluride. The mountains never age, and they are alive as ever. 

I found one of the few things better than a memory looked back on with rose tinted glasses, is a moment that doesn't need them, which I found was every moment in the quaint and beautiful historic town of Telluride. 

This was the top of our 10.4 mile hike. We had The Sound of Music going through our heads. 

They're a little hard to see in this picture, but one of my favorite things about Aspens are that all the little knots on them look  like eyes, keeping a solemn watch over the forest. 

When we got to the basin and heard thunder, we were worried it would rain. Not to worry, it decided to hail instead.
Meanwhile, the thunder was incredible. We were in this tiny basin just beneath the clouds and the thunder sounded like the mountain was going to crack apart, and it bounced back and forth inside the basin with the buzzing frenzy of a wasp caught between the blinds and the window pane. It was the best thunderstorm I've ever heard. 

My wonderful Dad, to whom belongs the majority of the photo credit. He is an excellent photographer. 

Telluride is a historic mining town, which means there are restrictions on how many houses are built, how far up the mountain you can build them, and whether the exterior matches the rest of this archaic little town. I think there must also be a rule that there must be AT LEAST six zeros on the price tag as well . . . I'm sure, because it's in Telluride, even this little mining shack would sell for a couple million. I think it would make a nice summer cottage, don't you? 

We found the biggest dandelions and we couldn't resist. Dallin found it's hard to blow when you're laughing . . . 

This was possibly the fluffiest, cutest little dog I've ever seen, and I got to hold him! I was in heaven. 

The gondola in the top left corner of the picture runs from Telluride, up the mountain, and over to Mountain Village on the other side, with a stop at the top. It's a family favorite. And the best part: it's free. 

The deal was, if you want your hair painted, you have to be in the parade. Jacob was all in, and Kaitlin had fun too. 

All decorated for the fourth of July parade. These people go all out. 

See that little black speck in the sky? That would be the start of the parade fly over. It's hard to beat a fourth of July parade in a town where main street is from the old west, the scenery is from a fairy tale, and the budget is from your wildest dreams.

If the parade was elaborate, the fireworks were INTENSE. Forty-five minute, non stop firework show, and the best one I've ever seen. Not to mention the rattling, booming echoes off the mountains, as if every tree was a rain stick, and every boulder a base drum. If I'd been blind, it still would have been the best show. 

After enduring rain, sleet, hail, heat exhaustion, starvation, a pack of ravenous wolves, an angry mountain lion, and enough photos to make your smile permanently crooked, we finally reached the top.
 We may be guilty of a little embellishment. 

This was the river that we had to cross on our 10.4 mile hike. It doesn't look like much, but allow me to complete the picture for you. This water is from still-melting ice caps. It is freezing, not to mention fast. IN order to keep our shoes and socks dry, we crossed it barefoot. It's hard to imagine something could be so cold that it is seriously painful, until you've experienced it, which I have. If that's not enough, check out the picture above. That's what we were crossing, not too far upstream. 

No wonder we got cold . . .

We found Dallin's twin. 

When we were little, Kylie and I would hike ahead to this spot and read. Now that we're all about the same pace, we didn't have time to get out our books to pose for the picture. Ah well, we made do.

Lovin these Aspen forests and that handsome little man who is not so little anymore. 

And that would be Telluride. Yep, that's all of it. 

It was hard to say goodbye. 

Candidly,
Cookie