The whole day was special! Mother’s friend Kathy came to the hotel to visit with us in our room. While she and Mother reminisced about their days together in Arvada, Murphy was flying cross country to join the party for one leg of our trip. He arrived at the hotel around noon just as Kathy was saying goodbye.

The three of us grabbed a quick lunch and then went to Crown Hill Cemetery. In spite of living a short drive from the cemetery for many years, Mother had never visited her parents’ graves or the graves of her sister and beloved brother-in-law. We took advantage of being so close and found all four which meant the world to Mother. Cyd, Murphy, and I had never been to the cemetery either, so it was wonderful for us too.

From the cemetery we caravanned to Salida, a combo outdoorsy, artsy, ranching town at 7,500 feet. It’s a beautiful three hour drive south and west of Denver. Cyd and I decided Mother needed to nap, so we buckled her into Cyd’s car, handed her a neck pillow, gave her strict instructions to rest while Cyd drove, and told her she would be rewarded at the halfway point and could ride with Murphy the rest of the way. Well, well, well, she talked all the way to the halfway point not shutting her eyes for a moment. So much for bossing her around! She did jump in with Murf for the second half of the ride which she enjoyed to the max.

The drive to Salida was spectacular. The weather, consistent with the rest of the trip, was unseasonably warm with full sun. We spotted small groups (herds? flocks?) of antelope, saw awesome rock formations, and huge valleys where presumably zillions of cows graze. We could see for miles.

We got to Salida late in the afternoon, settled into our B&B, Mountain Goat Lodge, and then headed to Kimberly’s to meet Brennan, Mother’s 11th great grandchild, now five months old, for the first time. Talk about a mellow dude. We passed him around like a sack of potatoes and I, simply because he was in my lap at the time, got to feed him dinner, an unlikely combo of peas, mango, and pear. Kamryn, great grand #6, was very much part of the party too but stayed a bit on the sidelines until she figured out who we were. Just before dinner Kimberly mentioned the chickens needed to be put to bed. They like to go to bed in their old roost, resist at all costs going to the new, unpopular, roost which means they have to be carried from the old one to the new one. We helped and were as clumsy as you might imagine. It was worth a good laugh. Photo opp.

We chatted until we felt like the kids needed to go to bed and then we took off toward the B&B to get some sleep ourselves.