We’re chasing the water again, this time in Salida, Colorado. During a girls weekend, where I’d known most of the people there since I was 5-years-old, we went river rafting and looking for water sprites. The mermaids had fun with us that day!
We glided through the water while I was enjoying the scenery, peacefulness of the cliffs and national park forest. It gave me a lot of serenity and inspiration for Iona Fay & The Sea Sirens, book three. It didn’t last long.
Some of my friends got a little too spirited and decided to do some unexpected underwater exploration to help me out. Right after Meghan with an “M,” our river guide, told us we were the best group she’s taken down the river, we hit “Hemorrhoid” rock, and half of the people in our boat toppled into the water. Fortunately, we quickly rallied, dunking and hauling everyone safely back in the boat within minutes. Upon which, Meghan with an “M” informed us that no one has ever fallen out at hemorrhoid rock.
We were the first.
On the bright side, at least we didn’t lose people in the “Toilet Bowl.”
Hand to heart, prior 10:07 am EST there was only one omelette that held the title of “best omelette.” It is The Gastonian in Savannah. That title is now at risk!
The photos show the omelette Jessie made me. This Buffalo Mountain Omelette is now tied for first place!
Here’s what makes her omelette so delish: we went into her garden, freshly picked our own herbs (sage, onion, chives, banana pepper, jalapeño, nasturtium), a little butter, parmesan and cheddar, Jessie’s magic with a skillet, and we ate it with a view of Buffalo Mountain.
If you go to the retreat, a blissful day awaits guests while enjoying yoga, meditation and delicious food.
Thank you, Jessie, for your open heart and hospitality! XO
On Monday, we spent the night in the sky! We were looking for air fairies and swear we heard them on the top of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The air is so pure. It sounds strange, but, hand to heart, it is the best smelling air. It is intoxicating.
To get this view, I spent 30 minutes backing up inch by inch, leaving us less than a foot of wiggle room…or else we were going over a cliff. A blissful, beautiful cliff, mind you. But a cliff, nonetheless. I was neither keen on that, nor was I certain about the guidance from the man holding a downing beers, who was guiding me in the spot. It was touch and go for a while. Finally, we backed in and called it a night.
The next morning, we were up early, communing with the air fairies along the road. Can you hear their blue grass tunes in the wind?