Mixing a good cocktail is a work of art.
I still cannot make my favorite drink, Cuba Libre. Not as well as the guy did in Mexico nor as well as the guy at Ship's Tavern here in Denver. I have no idea what they are doing that is different, and I asked. Same with Bloody Mary. One person I know makes them better tasting than anybody else and when you ask him he says nothing special.
This is the the Bloody Mary at Mozaic. It is reliably excellent. I notice a lot of celery seed floating around in there with black pepper.
Joe drove us down Palmer Lake from Denver. Past the outlet mall, past Ikea, past Castle Rock, then an offramp earlier than the previous times. It seems this ramp goes into Palmer Lake obliquely, from the north not from the east, parallel with the highway the length of the foothills. I was anticipating a shot of the whole town at once to capture the sense of a multitude of small churches that impressed me before with only a few cars at each church on a Sunday, with houses sprinkled around and the most amazing rock formations in their back yards and nearly so many cars as the churches.
But that did not happen. We slid in past the bars clipping the edge. And it appears the whole lake is drained.
What happened to the fish in the lake? Were they treated humanely and transferred? Surely the lake had fish, or else what would be the point? Now I saw excavating trucks along the edges. Trucks that look like they're built for terraforming. Seemed impossible. The place is named after the Lake. Take that away and then what? Palmer dry Ravine? Palmer Lost the Water Dispute? Palmer Garigue. That's a word I learned from Principles of Gardening. It means a dry harsh limestone area and the type plants therein where climate in hot and harsh even though it might be near the Mediterranean. Some are formed by degrading marquis communities, another type that tends to form along valleys.
I did not take any pictures on the way in because nothing fit my sense of composition. Nothing would work. But I did take photos on the way out passing by the same building that for some reason seemed more photogenic in the opposite direction. All those photos are taken from the car either though a windshield or through a side window. The weather turned cold. The sun seemed to withdraw behind a smothering carpet of cloud. We are in the cloud. All the photos are muted with atmosphere that is usually absent. It was a most unusual day of pure gray sky with us right there in the clouds.
I got out of the car early to walk up to Mozaic and snap photos as a train passed through the valley, and show what it looks like out there by itself with nothing around it but nature. On any other day the photos will be different and even on a day gray as can be I was stunned all over again with beauty.
Palmer Lake is at the bottom. Coming straight home via Family Circus style circuitous desultory meandering through residential areas, the patches of green, reveals homes and properties for sale with the most incredible formations right there on their acreage. Impressive custom homes built for the location. Every corner you turn, every curve you follow is stunning.
The day before this, the hairdresser and I hit it off instantly. Gordy is the most gregarious barber I've ever encountered. I struck the right chord with his first cuing note.
"How are you today?"
"I feel lucky."
"Why?
"Because I got you."
"Thank you. But why lucky for getting me?"
"Because that means I didn't get 'Cold Fingers'."
"Who's Cold Fingers?"
Bink, bink bink, concealed finger signal pointing to the woman at the chair next to him. He tightened with suppressed laughter. There's nothing like dissing on somebody's co-worker by way of icebreaker. We are instant confederates.
We talked about everything in haste because they were busy and our time will be short. We talked about everything including "black brunches" in the news. We talked about everything including omelets. I said, "I make the best omelets that I've eaten so those off the menu for brunches. Nobody can match them. So they are always a disappointment." He said. "I never order omelets either because nobody makes them as will as I do. I used to work at a restaurant that did best brunch ever" We each knew we found a kindred spirit.
I should never have scrambled eggs outside of home either for the same reason. I make mine as a fast failed sauce and they are wet as I choose to have them. Everywhere else, and I mean everywhere, scrambled eggs will be dry. Reliably dry. Its a thing. Omelets and scrambled eggs, once you are expert, then nobody can touch your own. It is a problem that comes with excellence.
They just cannot.
This is on the way back from Mozaic Restaurant.
Some of the photos are blurred but I like them that way. The whole thing is about privacy anyway. The car was moving. We can stop any time we want, but there is so much to take in, we'd be stopping every minute.
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I like this one a lot.
Too fast for you, BooBoo, now shoo.
Now that's a garden. Imagine a garden so splendid that your little home is the gnome-decoration to it, and your little home is a palace.
People living amidst geological splendor, their landscaping carefully chosen.
I could keep going like this forever. There are hundreds of such photos, all taken on a single drive in short distance west of Castle Rock away from the highway and nestled into the foothills. It is the January 11th 2015, the dead of winter, and I am blown away by the beauty in holding.
On an earlier trip down by these parts between Denver and Colorado Springs around Castle Rock, my dog showed signs of the car getting to her. She would start to make foamy saliva and that told me her stomach was feeling uneasy, so I pulled over and opened the door. She flew out in the right direction, the woods, not the highway. From her point of view that emergency stop is our destination so I resigned myself to play awhile with the dog.
Beavers backed up a rivulet and created a swamp in a fold of the land with a very broad margin around it of dampened soil and slick black mud. My dog took off so fast through the mud she slipped on her back and slid with her paws swimming the air frantically trying to twist her body for foothold, but she slid the full length mud covering her body with mud and I laughed so hard at that dog I nearly split my sides open, and so cheerfully amused with my laugher and joy of being out of the car, she circled back up the hill and took another run and another slide just to keep me laughing at her. She discovered a new game. That guaranteed a very long side-trip getting the dog cleaned up enough to get back in the car and on to our real destination.
The view goes on and on like this endlessly. You imagine all the wildlife in there.
South of all this, in line with Palmer and with this, is Monument Colorado. You can imagine why it is named such. And further still is USAF Academy, and then Colorado Springs. The whole length between the two cities is being built up incredibly fast. Throughout all this area we see property being divided for development. There is still a chance to get a piece of all this.
Those photos are all optimized for internet use, reduced to 800 width for fast loading.
