My 4th of July's tale

For the first time in my life, I had a close encounter with the symbol of America - the bald eagle. It was on 4th of July's Eve, when I took my kiddo - along with some good friends - to the local zoo. I've never seen bald eagles before; mind you, this Cuban (American) Mom has been so for only a few years.

I am not a huge fan of zoos; although I believe they do great things for animals, specially those that are not fit to live in their natural environments anymore, I can't help the feeling that I rather see those animal living in their natural habitats...

But this trip gave me - among a lot other great sights - the chance to see bald eagles and to witness the singing-barking conversation this lovely couple was having, up close and personal.

What a coincidence, I thought, just in the eve of the 4th of July, which is a dearest celebration for me, way beyond barbecues, friends and fireworks.

And when I told my son "Look, they are bald eagles, they are the symbol of America, the symbol of your homeland", he was really quick to note the obvious: "Mama, pero ellas no son calvas". (Mom, but they are not bald).

They really are magnificent animals. I tried to keep them in my mind as the symbol of this year's 4th of July, specially in the middle of the thunder storms that are loving us way too much this summer.

And when I was ready to start whining about the weather being the single item that didn't work with us and with the fireworks this year, I first read about a father who has lost his son in Afghanistan, right on Independence Day.

What on earth should I complain for, because of the rain on the 4th of July?
In this life, everthing is so relative... depending on the set of eyes you're using to look at them.
Thank you, Aaron.

Back... just back

Rainbow shinning the sky in a rainy tropical afternoon in Santa Maria del Mar, East of Havana.

Sick again -for a change- but back. Heartbroken. Hopeless, concerned and intrigued about the future of my homeland and loved-ones left back there. (And still deeply concerned about the future of my adopted homeland).

Thankful to God and whoever else is up there planning our destinies for allowing me to enjoy my father for more time.

Glad for the existence of the words "Abuelito, cárgame", and "Abuelito, llévame contigo". Those simple phrases in the voice of my two year old kept me sane during quite a few harsh days.

I'm back again, and ready to engage in full throttle to finish all the work -writing included- that I have pending.

Despite all those random thoughts, mother nature is benevolent.

She still gifts you with rainbows in the ocean, even from one of the most hopeless places on earth.

Where is my quota of global warming?

It's freaking cold over here!!! Colorful Colorado not-so-much-lately --scary stuff happening at DIA included.

I wonder, who stole my portion of global warming? We haven't had much warm in the past few weeks, and it looks we won't need a freezer for the Nochebuena leftovers. The backyard table will be more than enough!

Welcome to Colorful Colorado sign on Highway 666 south of Cortez, on the New Mexico border

The View

Have I told you before how many great views you can get in downtown Denver? Especially from the 23rd floor of the Grand Hyatt Denver?


That little ancient church has been one of my favorite spots since day one. It is a great reference point for us, girls, that need those markers to know where we are...

The early morning snow does nothing to the view... it's just part of Colorado life (although sometimes it makes a huge part of our life over here...)

It's more or less like Manhattan, Colorado-style.

And we're getting even more...

... there is a very happy camper around here, though... la Sweetie is just thrilled. It's her thing after all.

And she even poses for the camera and seize the opportunity.

In lieu of leaves, our little trees are getting some Christmas lights.

Don't worry about the garbage guy; when things get REALLY bad (which is not this case, this was just the first official snow) they have to pull in my drive way wearing... chains.

My shrubs are the most resilient on earth. The prove it every single winter.

Back home in Colorado

How do you know you're back home, at any given place in colorful Colorado?

When this is the first thing you see in front of your car,

at the airport parking lot.

I have a (mountain) crush

Víspera del Día de las Madres, 2008, next to the stream of the Big Thompson River that goes through downtown Estes Park. (Man, these heavy coats do not make me any favor, picture-wise... I still need to shed some pounds...)

I do have special feelings for Colorado places --amid the terrible weather this colorful land sometimes throw at us.

It's a kind of crush; a feeling of well being that never goes away, no matter how many times you make the drive and breath the air up there. (More or less like the relationship Marta has with Disneyland, you know? Who, BTW, it's an amazing cook and cookbook's author)

One of those places I'm in love with is Estes Park and Rocky Mountain National Park (NMNP).

Last week I attended a training conference there and I've got to tell you, in the four years I've leaving around here, I never get tired of this place.

It's like: "OK, I can hit the road and drive up there every single weekend". I love the road (US 34, that basically goes from the corner of my house to Estes Park), and I do love the re-energizing feeling I always get when I'm there.

It was hard to be away from my kiddo; the first time. Horrible, to be more exact.
But I compensated it with the views and the peace. It was not exactly a vacation, but indeed a very much needed break.

Here are some memories from the views that accompanied me all the way up.
(More on my RMNP's adventures to come)

Skyline from Estes Park, in a windy and warm spring day of May 2008

"Twin Owls", a mountain formation that surrounds the valley where Estes Park is located. If you watch closely, you could see the two owls, looking to the west (right), with their big pechugas, really close to one another.

Allow me to introduce you the Big Thompson River, alongside US 34, in the way to Estes Park. The river gives the name to the place where the road was built: Big Thompson Canyon.

Peaks from Rocky Mountain National Park, seen from my hotel room window in Estes Park. In theory, we're in spring, but these breathtaking mountains usually keep their snow-peaks all year long. It's so wonderful to be up there! And I mean, right up there!

A close-up from the Big Thompson River.

Going back to the (whitest) weather...

A quick view of our surroundings during the weekend, up here in the Rockies.
Snowed beautifully, really. You've got to believe me.

Sweetie is having the best times of the years; followed by my kiddo, whose debut in a sled (yeah, right, the Colorado-snow-version of our childhood chivichana).

On Sunday, when I took these pics, we had hot and creamy chocolate with saltines con mantequilla for breakfast.

And ended up having a nice time (after meeting the quota of snow shoveling).

Bison's pics @ Terry Ranch

These are the American buffaloes (Bison Bison) at Terry Ranch, in Wyoming. The one at front is the leading bull, a 16-years-old huge animal. They even had a one day old baby, a yak —a model of bison from the Tibet) and one with white spots: a cross between a bison and a Longhorn Texas bull. Wow!

I learned from the guide that bisons can not be heard with horses, like they would do with cows. Bisons usually charge at the horses and kill them. These herds are kept in the ranch 100 days or so a year, the rest of the year they are just roaming in free range.

The ranchers put the water in their way, they smell it and then, migrate in the water's direction, while everyday, ranchers put the water closer to the ranch. Interesting, humm?

¿Se imaginan esos búfalos roaming free en los campos de Cuba? De los pobres infelices no quedarían ni los pelos que largan en el invierno.

Getting out there...in the ranch

Last Sunday, we went with some friends (Cubans from Miami & Cayo Hueso that we found living in a town 20 min. from our house... but that story is for another blog) to a bison ranch north of Greeley, close to Cheyenne, in Wyoming.

It was a relatively short trip —an hour on I-25— but my car was fully loaded with stroller, sweaters, water, a cooler for Nicolasín with puré de malanga, jugo de mango (home made, by abuela Miriam), baby formula, water, compota, etc, etc, etc...you know, por si acaso.

We took a train ride around the ranch (Terry Ranch) and it was nice. The weather was so great!!! Since I moved to Colorado I've learn to appreciate and praise the weather sooooooo much!!!!

Anyway, I saw bisons, up-close and personal, for the first time in my life, along with camels, cows, donkeys, miniature horses and even a wild red fox that has her family in the middle of the ranch. Oh! they also have ostriches!!The male was so scary...

Meanwhile, Nicolás decided he needed to spent most of the afternoon sleeping in his car seat, with Mami by his side. So, basically, the tour was for MDH and me, and our friends.

(FYI, I'm trying to upload pics from the bisons...but this computer tienen un mal de sambito and I don't know what's wrong with her).

We ate at the restaurant and tried the bison meat. For the record, I just tried a bit. Didn't like that much, especially after seen those majestic animals so close. ¡Me dio una lástima! In a future blog I'll explain my metamorfosis after "Fast Food Nation".

I know, I know... in Cuba we have been meat-starved for more than 40 years, therefore, we are supposed to be law-mandated-carnivores...but I couldn't help it!

And... (here comes the last "and"), I got upset with the waitress at the restaurant.

First, for some reason I don't know, she assumed we were worried about the prices —even though almost everyone at the table speaks English— and we acknowledged, from the very beginning, that it was REALLY expensive.

So, Maritza, my friend, bit her tongue and explained her we were worried about the size of the steak, not the prices. I mean, we are Cubans, but that does not automatically make us cavemen.

Then, she wanted us to eat the meat ON HER COOKING TERMS. C'mon! I know the difference between a meat medium cooked and a steak that is rare!!! Hellooooo, I've been a waitress too!!!

There went the plates to the kitchen again.

She insisted we ate the barely cooked meat because, according to her, bison meat does not have almost fat and if you cooked too much, it will be an official suela de zapato. But, el bisonte que me tocó yo creo que tenía el colesterol alto, porque mi bisté tenía una pellejera, que para que les cuento!!!

And last, but not least, I think she become upset when she heard us speaking Spanish. Poor thing!

End of the day: we came back home, montamos la mesa del dominó, and played until 9 p.m.