I spent most of the weekend with Kelsea up in the mountains, poking around Gilpin County and aspens and old mining areas. We had some famous conversations, such as:

Me: I cooked dinner for MKL the other night.

Her: Good…..where are we living now?

Clearly, she has as high an opinion of my cooking skills as I do. And dinner was actually pretty good, with no conflagrations or skin loss.

And then there was this gem of miscommunication:

Her: Can you hug bears?
Me: I don’t think so. They’d probably eat you.
Her: But is it illegal?
Me: No, but still, THEY’D PROBABLY EAT YOU.
Her: Don’t people do it anyway?
Me: Well, I suppose people have, but they’re probably mostly dead.  Oh….wait….did you say hug or hunt?
Her: I said hunt.
Me: Oh. Never mind.

I hope to be able to share a photo essay with you shortly, but I seem to be quite behind in posting my writings. I’d invite you all to come to the Bungalow to read the handwritten versions, but I only have one extra bedroom.  I promise  I won’t cook for you.