Aug. 28, 2005 - 21:15MDT

LOOMS

It takes me a while in the morning to come to and actually wake up. I was in a dream state at the last of my sleep today. Not a nightmare but a dream where I was having to cope and think my way through all kinds of difficulties. I was dreaming how tired I was from all of those gritty things, so of course I suppose that is why I was so darn sluggish when semiconsciousness happened to me.

Slipped on my shirt, outer shorts and slippers stumbled my way to a pit stop and headed out for a cuppa, my pills and a banana. Heather said she brought the paper in and was heading to church. Gave her a hug good-bye, got my coffee and sat down to my Sunday breakfast with the broad-sheet edition that we get on Sundays. Never did get comfortable with those ungainly things, and probably never will.

And then the day happened. A bit of this and a bit of that and errand or two. Then at five o'clock we went to a birthday gathering for the wife of one of our grandsons.

Our daughter's hubby, her son-in-law and I sat at the end of the table and talked about the history of the area that we knew about. We jointly determined where the old Hernando's Hideaway was up, in Golden back when that song was popular, shook our heads over how Coors industry has pretty well filled that section of the valley in Golden.

Our son-in-law dug up some old books he had on Colorado history and one or two about Golden in particular, which was his home until he moved closer into town. I noted that once Golden was the Capitol of Colorado and also that rails went from Golden to Blackhawk, and Idaho Springs back in the gold rush days. It also mentioned the streetcars we called the Interurban trams that went from central downtown Denver to Golden by two different routes. I remember those fondly, the one on the southern route had a chance to gain a bit of speed and it was fun to ride that rocking swaying wooden twister.

More history talked about and read about, but eventually Heather said it was time to go and so like a good little man I gathered my oxy-bottle, cane and headed out to our car. Hugs and goodbyes all around and we headed homeward.

It was after dark when we got home and I did as I have been doing all summer, stripped down and went back into my outer shorts, thin shirt and slippers and tried to get comfortable.

Then it finally occurred to me just why my dream of difficulties seemed to carry on into the daylight. This morning my body was cold . . . . my mind shrugged that off. But after I got stripped down tonight, sat down at the keyboard there was no ignoring the fact that it is chilly in here. So I gave in, got up and got my light bathrobe, put it on and sat down in comfort.

Drat, it is still August even though it's at the end of the month, it IS STILL AUGUST. How can I be chilly ? Am I coming down sick ? I was a bit puzzled until I talked to my son on the phone (he lives out our way) and he mentioned there was a chill in the air this morning, so it wasn't me but the blinkin' thermometer that did the dirty deed.

The rose bush outside our dining room window didn't reflect the effects of a chill morn.' Glorious in full bloom, a bush full (not a Bush full,) yet I suppose I shall have to soon bid the roses goodbye for the season. I'm really not ready for this, I can handle heat a bit better than cold - sweat a lot, cuss a bit and keep the fan on high and even turn on the swamp-cooler when it's real hot. But there seems to be a chill settle around my shoulders in the cold of winter no matter how high the thermostat is set. Just not a man of the Boreal type.

Ahead of me I see that Fall LOOMS . . . . . . . . . .

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