Seasons of love ...

Andy and I have roommates!

Well, sort of, anyway.

For the past week two cute little birds have been scoping out our balcony, attempting to build a nest on various locals they thought were safe. In one misguided effort, they tried to set up shop on the top of our wind chime. That worked for about six hours until the wind shifted again, and all their efforts were literally carried away by the breeze.

Our female House Finch surveys the wreckage of an ill-fated decision to build a nest on top of our wind chime. It turns out smooth wooden surfaces don't make for solid infrastructure.

But Andy and I seem to have found them a perfect spot. By some stroke of outstanding timing, we made the fatal mistake of leaving our hanging houseplant outside overnight, last weekend. True, it was 75 degrees during the day, but it definitely cooled more than the plant would have like, effectively killing it.

We tried for the better part of the week to nurse said plant back to health, but failed miserably. Today, it breathed its last.

Which made the poor, newly-deceased plant the perfect condo for the next generation of Colorado House Finches! (That's what my attempts to research the birds has led me to conclude they are. If you no better, however, please feel free to share ) We decided to hang our plant up outside for the little family-to-be once we saw he-Finch return this morning on a house-hunting trip. He immediately checked it out, chirped once, and flew off to get his mate.

Our male House Finch, and apparent tenant, checks out the hanging plant we are offering as a summer home and nest box. Sorry about the poor quality of the photo, I was shooting through the window so as not to scare him away. Love that ruby-red coloring!

They've been back twice in the past hour with sticks and nest building materials. As long as they don't mind sharing their space with us, it could make for a fun summer, watching babies hatch, fledge and learn to be birds literally right outside our window!

Oh, and if anyone has any name suggestions for our new houseguess, please feel free to share.

Home again, home again

It always amazes me how long it takes to really move from one home to another.

We've been in the new pad for three weeks, now, and things are finally almost ready. Our dessert-colored walls are decorated with art work, 95 percent of our 100 boxes are unpacked, and two of the three pets have succeeded in injuring themselves. Yep, sounds like we're more-or-less home.

Still, given that we started this process a month ago, all I can say is it's about damn time! I have yet to figure out what it is that possesses Andy and me to pack everything we own into boxes and haul them up and down steps at least once a year. Ironically, each time we say "The next time, it'll be to the house we own." Maybe this time we will actually mean it.

Spackle and glow

It was quite the productive weekend in the Foster-Peterson household.

The big move is next weekend, but Andy and I were able to grab the keys to the new pad this weekend so we could paint and prep. We did the master bedroom in "Chocolate Truffle," the guest bedroom in "Peanut butter," and the guest bath in "Blueberry Patch." (Why, by the way, do paint companies name every color after some sort of dessert?) It really was quite the eye-opening experience.

Andy was raised doing pretty much every type of home improvement. Me ... not so much. So it really was a lot of fun to get the hands-on experience I did this weekend.

For example, I never realized that there is a specific painting technique, called "cutting," that you use when painting edges. As near as I can tell, it's a very scientific approach that involves taking a large breath, shutting one eye, cocking your head to a difficult angle and, in one smooth stroke, spreading as much paint as possible along the seam.

No surprise, but Andy is actually quite good at it.

He can create a nearly perfect line of paint without tape. When I tried, I ended up painting an inch of wall I didn't want painted. So, I was entrusted with the sponge roller (more my style, anyway) and my very own brush for touch-ups.

So the new place looks great! It's really coming along beautifully. It's a ton of work to move, but so far, completely worth it. Remarkably, next week at this time, it'll be over and done with.

Ice castles

Camelot on ice ... without the dancing former Olympiads. Note the wizard in the upper rampart, the torches on the front wall, and (hard to see but right up front) the two armed guards. There was also a knight on horseback and a full-sized coat of armor from the waist up that tourists could pose behind for photographs.

There's a cool little former mining town about an hour away from the Springs called Cripple Creek. What was once a gold rush community is now one of the state's three gaming towns.

Once every few months, Cripple Creek has a wild festival designed to drum up business for the few downtown businesses that aren't casinos. This weekend was the Ice Festival.

Look, kids, Dumbledore lives!

Basically, the idea was to bring in a half-dozen really talented ice carvers, give them a piece of downtown road and several tons of ice, and set them loose. Apparently the theme was fairy tales. As you can see, the end results were spectacular, whimsical and remarkably out of place outside of establishments named "The Brass Ass" and "The Virgin Mule."

Carver Thomas Barlow polishes the body of a Pegasus he carved inside a castle wall.

Nonetheless, Andy and I had a great time taking in the sights, watching the artists and - yes - hitting a few slot machines. (we finished $9.75 up, by the way, and promptly spent all our winnings on an overpriced martini and kettle corn.)

A soon-to-be dragon takes shape on a rocky ledge and below a shooting star. Note the pride flag in the meteor's tail!

It's happening, again

Yep, once again, Andy and I are moving. This makes an even dozen in the eight years since I finished grad school. Not bad, huh?

This time, however, we aren't moving across the country, the state or the suburbs. This time, we're moving across the parking lot.

Here's the deal: We have the chance to upgrade from a two-bedroom to a three-bedroom apartment with mountain views for less than $100 a month. We're gaining something like 250 square feet and easy access to the hot tub. This means we'll have not just a master bedroom and den, but a guest room where our guests won't be crammed between the TV and sofa, and a study/library where I can work from home.

So if anyone gets the Rockies itch, you have a place to stay.

Drop me a line and I'll shoot you our new address. It takes hold Feb. 21.

Brrrrr......

It's cold here.

I mean, honest-to-God, bone-chilling, teeth-chattering, human Popsicle cold.

The sort of cold we would have in Chicago for January and the better part of February. But it's not supposed to happen here on the Front Range. I mean, we're in a desert for God's sake.

As I write this, these are the current conditions according to KVOR news partners KXRM Fox 21.
(Don't you just love those weather graphics?)

Snow 6

Feels Like: -9°

It's been snowing for the past 18 hours, so we actually have an accumulation of fresh powder dusting everything. And it's supposed to stay below freezing tomorrow.

That said, I can't be too cranky about this cold snap, given that things are supposed to be back into the 40s where they belong by Wednesday. Suffice it to say, it didn't take long for my blood to thin out.

I just hope my Robin Redbreast friend from last week managed to get the 5 day forecast in time to buckle in.

Stay warm everyone! Spring will be here before you know it.

Me thinks he's confused

I saw one of these yesterday.

"A Robin Redbreast in a cage puts all heaven in a rage." - William Blake.
I saw the first robin of the year yesterday. This isn't him, because I didn't have my camera. Thanks to Google images for this pic.

Really.

In Iowa, good ol' Robin Redbreast was the first harbinger of spring. Our neighborhood otherwise-migratory bird showed up on a neighbor's porch railing on January 17, sang to me a little bit, and hopped away.

Now, granted, it was 62 degrees yesterday when I spotted him.

But here's my conundrum: Does this bird mean that spring comes really early to the Front Range or do they just not migrate from the Centennial State? I suppose it's possible we're the southern stopping point for Iowa's robins ... after all, we're technically considered part of the American Southwest here. (Which I love, by the way.)

But if Colorado isn't a winter haven for the hardier of the robins, is this something to worry about? Should it tell me that Global Warming isn't as much a joke as the Eastern Seaboard would probably have us believe this year? Or, should it just tell me that everyone whose said this was simply a ridiculously warm season is right and winter will return with vengeance next month and brutalize us?

Either way, it's supposed to be in the mid 60s again today, so Andy and I are taking Jack for a long walk through our favorite little town of Manitou Springs. Carpe Diem, I say; and here's hoping that if winter's wrath returns, my favorite harbinger of spring finds a warm spot to roost.

One week down

Eleven to go.

I started my new job on Monday. I'm learning how to review mortgages in early-stage foreclosure for possible misrepresentations. It's completely exhausting, but really interesting work.

I'm one of five new recruits getting trained up. We're undergoing 90 days of what is essentially real estate and mortgage boot camp. Needless to say, there's an unbelievably high learning curve, and I'm already overwhelmed by the sheer amount I've learned.

For me, the hardest thing to accept was that I wasn't able to jump directly into and know exactly what was going on. Journalism always came so easily. Sure, some stories were tougher to piece together than others, but I always knew the right things to ask and how to frame even a mundane story in an interesting way.

I have to keep reminding myself that nobody has it down pat the first week, and that's why the training period lasts for three months.

Have you experienced this? How do you deal with the challenges of learning a new trade when you knew your last one inside and out?

When I said I wanted a few long necks ...

Andy feeds one of the dominate cows while (from left) Eve, Lacy and Gary look on. Check out the grin on Eve's face!

... this isn't quite what I had in mind.

New Year's Day is my dear friend Eve's birthday. She turned 22 and was trying to figure out last week how to celebrate the big day.

Eve celebrates her birthday by meeting her favorite animals face-to-face.

Here's what you have to know about Eve: giraffes are to her what horses are to me. She adores them, lives and breathes them and has a deep-abiding fascination with them. The remarkable thing is, a long-time Coloradan and Springs resident for the past two years, Eve has never been to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo.

I've had the opportunity to scratch a horse's tongue before, but never a giraffe's. Apparently, this bull enjoys it too!

The zoo has a renowned herd of giraffes. Not only well-known because there are so many animals, but because they are very domestic. For $1, you can buy three "giraffe crackers:" Cookie-like patties of compressed alfalfa hay that you can hand-feed the animals.

Gimme that cracker!

So on Thursday night, Andy and I met up with Eve, her sister Lacy, brother-in-law Gary and close friend Ashley. We spent the evening on safari for the chance to get up-close-and-personal with the spindle legged goofballs of the Serengeti.

What struck me the most about the giraffes was how horse-like they are. They have similar coats, similar body language, and distinct pecking orders. They even use their ears the same way, twitching them to express anger, interest and emotion.

Scene stealers: These two calves couldn't quite figure out the whole cracker-thing ... but they definitely wanted to!

We had a great time feeding and playing with the animals. It's an amazing experience, and one I will very highly recommend for any future visitors.

Happy New Year

Well, it's officially 2009 and what a start to the year!

Actually, I must admit I slept through the real thing; thanks, in large part, to a crazy work schedule that had me at the station from 11:30 p.m. to 9:30 a.m. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. So, basically, I was passed out at 8:30 last night.

Andy, however, went to a party in our complex and won some cash playing poker. Not a bad way to start the year, huh?

So, it's belated but here's a new years wish for everyone:

May 2009 be filled with laughter, love, light and lore. May it be happy, healthy and hopeful. And may you be blessed with joy and peace today and always.