I think most of you out there in reader land already have some inkling that growing old definitely has its challenges. This week Ol’ Dutch got an up close and personal reminder about growing old thanks to a quick trip to the Emergency Room. No one is sure where the saying about “not for sissies” came from originally, but it's been attributed to the famous movie star Bette Davis who also had a pillow with that embroidered on it.
Staffing and budget cuts at federal land management agencies aren’t just numbers on a spreadsheet, writes Tracy Stone-Manning, president of the Wilderness Society. They indicate empty ranger stations and wildfire teams stretched so thin they can’t keep up. Though people of all backgrounds celebrated when we stopped Congress from selling off our public lands earlier this summer, she warns, a clear pattern is emerging: Shrink these agencies until they cannot function, then claim that selling off or industrializing our public lands is the only solution. Stone-Manning asks people who care about public lands to demand full funding of national parks and forests and to stand together in defense of the places that belong to all of us.
Archery elk season is just around the corner, and Ol’ Dutch is as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Most days I think I resemble a squirrel trying to cross the road — flitting from chore to chore — just trying to fill the hours until I can get up in the forest. Even though it’s still two weeks away, I’m anxious for it to begin. What’s strange about that is that I’m also sad when it ends. You just can’t make a man happy, so it seems.
In December, residents of Teton County, Wyo., learned they were the wealthiest people in the country, making an average of $471,751 a year. That news instantly intrigued four longtime "dirtbag" residents of Jackson Hole. What would it be like, they wondered, if they lived and worked in the nation's second-wealthiest place—Aspen, Colo.? A visit to Aspen by road bike led them to reach at least one conclusion: Second-hand clothing stores are a must when you live cheek by jowl with the rich.
Sunday dawned clear and gorgeous and for the first time all summer, Miss Trixie and I had the whole day to ourselves. Which was a welcome relief after a hectic past few months shuttling Mountain Man Rafting up and down the river almost every day of the week. We lazed around some and didn't get out of bed early so it was a definite late start to the day. But fill the day we did as anyone that knows Miss Trixie understands that no grass was going to grow under our feet once we hit the ground running.
A few years back, my friend Norm told me that when he was growing up in northern New Mexico in the 1950s and early ‘60s, his family often drove up to the La Plata Mountains in southwestern Colorado. From there he could see all the way to the Sandia Mountains outside Albuquerque, some 200 miles away.
The older I get, the more my memory resembles Swiss cheese — full of holes and smells faintly of regret. I can remember running big projects and doing complicated math in my head once upon a time. Of late it seems that Ol’ Dutch can't even recall what he had for breakfast although that should be easy since it's always the same.
Just this past Sunday, Ol’ Dutch decided to have a boys’ day out without Miss Trixie. Well, in all honesty, she went off with the girls, and I was left behind — so the only “boy” I was out with was myself. But that wasn’t all bad. I do enjoy my own company. There are fewer arguments that way, and even fewer conflicting decisions about what to do.
There are certain days we all mark on the calendar every year — Christmas, Easter, birthdays. But Miss Trixie has one more circled in bright red, and in her book, it ranks right up there with …
Ol’ Dutch did not go on a toot and get hammered to the gills — tempting as that might sound some days. Nope, I got a whole different kind of pickled this past Saturday. Somehow Ol’ Dutch was canoodled into participating in a Pickleball Tournament by a well-meaning and sweet-talking woman that I had a chance meeting with one day.
Most of you know that Ol’ Dutch and Miss Trixie have managed to stay together now for a long 13 years. And those of you that know us personally realize that it is only due to Ol’ Dutch’s calm demeanor, good looks, kind disposition and loving nature. Well, something like that.
Hopefully by the time you all are reading this in the newspaper, Ol’ Dutch will have found his way to Colorful Colorado once again for my yearly sojourn. I have been delayed due to construction issues with our new house and hopefully that will be taken care of on Tuesday at the latest.
Well, it finally happened. Just like a lot of you predicted, Miss Trixie has finally left Ol’ Dutch. Well, I guess it's just temporary as she is out in Colorful Colorado while I settle some unfinished business in Texas. I have to say honestly, I am really lonely for that woman.
I am not sure exactly how we got here but from the time Ol’ Dutch was a child until now the affluence of the American people has grown astronomically. Recalling my younger days, I always seemed to get a basketball, football, tennis racket, skateboard or some other paraphernalia as a gift that could only be used out of doors. And, now looking back on that I am beginning to question that, just maybe, my mother was trying to get me out of the house and out from under her feet.
You probably don’t see wildland firefighters on the job because they usually work in remote areas. But with wildfires moving from the backcountry to backyards, the public is becoming more aware of the men and women who do this dangerous work. At the same time, people probably don’t know much about the very real health risks of the job. Now, it’s getting harder for anyone to know.
By now, most of you out there in reader land know that Miss Trixie and I have been delayed in our summer journey to Colorful Colorado. I have not been this late in going since I retired some 17 years ago and it's really beginning to wear on me.
On May 24, I completed the fourth year of my adventure, returning to work for CSU Extension here in San Luis Valley, in charge of rebuilding this Extension program. Let me tell you, the first two years went so slowly, and these last two flew by! Every once in a while, Ruthie and I still look at one another and say, "What in the world were we thinking? (It is always meant more as a statement than a question.) But at this landmark, it is a good question to revisit.
In 1787, Thomas Jefferson, primary author of the Declaration of Independence, wrote a letter to Edward Kerrington, the man Jefferson had sent as a delegate to the Congressional Congress in his place. In his letter, Jefferson told Kerrington to make a strong case for a free and uncensored press.
This past weekend Ol’ Dutch and Miss Trixie had the privilege of celebrating Granddaughter #2’s birthday with her. The actual day is not until June 10, but we feared we might be in Colorado by then and wanted to be sure and have a party. It just so happens that she and Ol’ Dutch share the same birthday, so she is always doubly excited to celebrate with us as she gets her presents and mine, too. Being 11 years old is a great time in life and she is living large.
Memorial Day, a day of profound significance, deserves our participation and active engagement. It is a day to come together as a community and honor and remember those who have made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom.