It's not like there's nothing happening around here...

My husband actually reads my blog and tells me that I should blog more often. I think at least one of my college kids reads my blog too. I wish they would comment every now and then just so I know there are living beings reading this. (hint, hint).

My husband is very encouraging, sending me emails with subject lines like, "For your blog" and "You should really blog about this." I appreciate it, I really do. If I didn't have one million and one things going on at any given moment, I would really love to blog about all the wonderful topics he sends me.

The trouble is that real life keeps intruding into my blogolife. We've celebrated our oldest daughter's graduation from college (yay!!) on December 12th. We're very proud of her and her accomplishments. She majored in Physics and worked very hard, not only in her classes, but also working as an assistant manager for the university catering service. She managed to work her way through school without relying on mom and dad to pay her way. She is now applying to grad schools across the country, hoping to pursue studies in Medical Physics.

I'm promising more updates after the new year and hope everyone who reads this blog has a very joyous Christmas.

We're taking the family to the mountains for the week of Christmas. We'll be staying in a cabin at about 9,000 feet...lots of snow and cross-country skiing, sledding, ice skating...and maybe a sleigh ride. There is a lovely little parish nearby, in Granby called Our Lady of the Snow. We're looking forward to midnight Mass there and taking up half the pews.

A very blessed final week of Advent to you all!

Remembering Aunt Louise

Despite the fact that I'm the eldest of two daughters, who's the eldest of two daughters, who's the eldest of two daughters, and that I come from a looooong line of WASPs, dating at least back to the American Revolution, if not the Mayflower, I do have some colorful stories from my childhood.

I was reminded of one of my favorite elderly aunts when I was reading The Philosopher Mom's blog posting for today. My story isn't quite as detailed as Kalynne's because my memories are sporadic and disconnected, but quite vivid all the same.

My great great Aunt Louise was my grandmother's aunt (on my mother's side), although she was only about nine years older than my grandmother. Aunt Louise became like a sister to my grandmother when my grandmother's mother died in childbirth just before her little girl was delivered by cesarean. My grandmother was only three years old when her mother died. Her grandmother took her in and raised her and her baby sister because their father didn't feel he could raise two little girls on his own. My great great grandmother had already birthed fourteen children of her own and Aunt Louise, at age twelve, was the youngest still at home. We always visited with Aunt Louise when we'd go to Kentucky to see my grandparents. We'd drive there nearly every summer from Colorado, except for a few summers when my grandparents would come to visit us.

Aunt Louise was married to Uncle Bill and they lived in a big ol' white house with a big ol' white goose in the backyard who always managed to evade our attempts at catching her. Aunt Louise's four poster bed was so high there was a step ladder to climb up into it. She had an attic upstairs and would let me explore it by myself. I always loved sneaking away to the attic alone while the grown-ups were talking. I don't know if she put the toys up there just so that I could find them or if I really was clever enough to uncover those antique treasures. One of my favorite toys was a tiny cast iron stove that was fully functional (less the fire burning inside it) and it looked just like the one she had in her huge country kitchen. There were also little china dishes that seemed to me to be at least a hundred years old. I always felt like I stepped back in time when I would climb up into her attic.

Aunt Louise was a rather large woman...must've been at least 5'8" and over 200 lbs but she never seemed fat to me, just large and full of love. When she hugged me those huge bosoms of hers would swallow me up and I knew that everything was right with the world. She made the best sweet tea, fried chicken, corn on the cob, biscuits and gravy, grits and turnip greens and to top it all off--homemade blackberry pie--and that was just lunch. We'd sit in her spacious homey kitchen for hours eating, and as the grown-ups were talking about people and places I knew nothing about, I'd stare at the countless do-hickeys and knick-knacks scattered around her kitchen, hanging from the walls and ceiling and tucked into every nook and cranny.

Her husband, Uncle Bill, liked to hug me too, but I always felt uneasy when he'd hug me just a bit too long. Turns out when Aunt Louise had to put him in a nursing home because he was getting a tad senile, he tried groping all the nurses and he got himself into a heap of trouble.

I still smile when I think of Aunt Louise, and I'm relieved that my kid instincts on Uncle Bill were correct enough to know to push away when his hugs got a little too much.

RIP Aunt Louise and Uncle Bill.

The Berlin Wall and Other Forms of Bondage

It was twenty years ago today--November 9, 1989--that communism collapsed. It was a rather sudden and inexplicable lifting of travel restrictions from East to West Germany, specifically within the divided city of Berlin, that caused swarms of people to head for the West. East German guards had to stand by and watch as both East and West Germans chipped away at the wall which had divided their city, their nation and even families for the previous twenty-eight years.

I remember watching the news reports myself twenty years ago today, dumbfounded. I knew it was monumental, but I don't think it struck me (being only 26 years old myself), how truly monumental it was.

President Ronald Reagan was no longer in office when the wall fell, but he is often credited with helping to pave the way for the wall's destruction. His speech of June 12, 1987, in which he famously tells Mr. Gorbachev to "Tear down the wall," is cited as one of the keys to Reagan foreign policy. There was certainly no doubt what President Reagan believed:

We welcome change and openness; for we believe that freedom and security go together, that the advance of human liberty can only strengthen the cause of world peace.

There is one sign the Soviets can make that would be unmistakable, that would advance dramatically the cause of freedom and peace. General Secretary Gorbachev, if you seek peace, if you seek prosperity for the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, if you seek liberalization: Come here to this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!

Pope John Paul II is also credited with helping to end communism. He was a Pole and a fierce opponent of communism who had lived much of his life under the oppression of a communist state. He was a beacon of hope to those living under oppression. His first words as pope were, "Be not afraid!"

Thank you God, Ronald Reagan and Pope John Paul II for helping to bring down the Berlin Wall.

May we never forget the spiritual, political and economic bondage that was communism.

But communism of yesterday has been replaced by government control of a different sort. Today, we freely give up our sovereignty and liberty under the guise of unilateralism and compromise. The European Union is a fine example of what happens when states turn over their sovereignty. Italy has been told to "Tear down crucifixes" from its public schools in the name of uniformity and compromise. President Obama is poised to sign the climate change accord at Copenhagen next month which would require the US to abide by carbon emission standards set by other countries for us.

We are on the brink of being saddled with what some analysts say is a $1 trillion price tag for government run health care, which would include health care rationing.

Our government seems more concerned about fighting a two-degree rise in global temperatures over the next 100 years than fighting Islamic terrorists.

According to a Wall Street Journal editorial in today's paper, Global Warming as Seen From Bangladesh, three billion people worldwide do not have access to basic sanitation and safe drinking water. These people would much rather have covered sewer drains and clean drinking water than worry about rising temperatures or sea levels. In fact, cutting carbon emissions will "likely increase water scarcity, because global warming is expected to increase average rainfall levels around the world." Too bad poor people everywhere.

If we are to learn from history, then we must never forget the scenes of utter joy as humanity was released from bondage on that day twenty years ago. And let's not allow our elected officials to enslave us again.

Pres. Reagan and me, circa May 22, 1985
~shameless plug~

We need a conscience clause!

At Mass this morning, our priest read a letter from the US bishops, commenting on the proposed health care bill, which was voted on late last night by the US House of Representatives.

One of the bishops' objections, our pastor pointed out, had been addressed by last night's vote. The Stupak Amendment rejected federal funding for abortions. However, there are still many objectionable elements in the current health care bill. One of these is the lack of a conscience clause for Catholics and other health care workers who object to participating in actions which are opposed to their personal beliefs and the teachings of the Catholic Church.

President Barack Obama promised America, in his commencement speech to Notre Dame, that his administration would promote a rigorous conscience clause for health care workers. There is nothing in the current bill which would allow health care workers to recuse themselves from medical procedures which violate their consciences. The consensus of the current political climate seems to be: no objection allowed.

The US bishops have declared that access to health care is now a human "right." What happened to it being a "work of mercy"? It is now a basic human right. The popular culture has long declared contraception to be "health care." Does this mean that Catholic taxpayers will be required to fund contraceptive drugs and devices, many which act as abortifacients? How have we slouched this far to Gomorrah that we now view contraception as a "basic human right?"

The US bishops have also declared that all "immigrants" are entitled to comprehensive health care. By using the term "immigrants," do the bishops really mean "illegal immigrants"? I can only assume they do, since many American citizens are immigrants, but no one would question their right to anything granted to citizens by birth.

Rather than guilt-trip American Catholic taxpayers into funding health care for illegals, why don't the bishops start a Catholic welfare organization which would fund health care for all persons, regardless of immigration status? It is the work of the Church to help the poor, but it is not necessarily the work of the state to do that.

Furthermore, why promote benefits for illegal immigrants who have already violated US law? Why not instead promote easing of the restrictions for US citizenship, so that more people would have access to the benefits of legal citizenship?

The Philosophy of Relativism and the Catholic Way of Looking at Things

Have you ever been in a discussion with someone about something important to you...say, politics or religion or education and you find that you and your colleague are in sharp disagreement, and you really don't want to start a row, so someone says something to the effect, "You have your way of looking at things, and I have mine and that's okay" ?

That happens a lot among polite people who don't want to lose a friendship or stop speaking to a relative because they didn't vote the same way in the last election.

You can't argue with someone else's experience. But when they start using their own experience as proof that their opinions are true in all cases, you've got a problem. The problem with relativism is that each individual gets to choose their own reality based upon their own experiences. In effect, each person becomes their own little god. And when they try to ignore the conflict that arises when different people have radically different experiences, they say, "You have your truth, and I have mine."

Taken to the extreme, this idea that opposite opinions can be equally valid is one of the aspects of relativism which has taken hold of our modern culture in our effort to promote "tolerance," "empathy," and "diversity."

On second thought, some opinions are not considered by our culture to be equally valid if they infringe upon the real or supposed rights of a protected class of people. Just try sending your child to school in a t-shirt that says something like "Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve."

Tolerance, empathy and respect for diversity are noble qualities, don't get me wrong. I want my kids to be tolerant of their annoying siblings, empathetic to the plight of the poor and respect people who don't speak English, but I don't want them to think it is good to be annoying, poor or ignorant.

Mark Shea spoke at Theology on Tap last night in Denver, and his topic was "101 Reasons NOT to be Catholic." He listed the various reasons people object to Catholic beliefs, such as: "The Catholic Church is against Choice," and "The Catholic Church says believers can lose their salvation." Or, "The Catholic Church is anti-sex," and "The Catholic Church wants people to have lots of babies." He juxtaposed these radically different claims, usually made by radically different folks, to show that perhaps the Church is really in the middle...and the observers are on the extremes.

Jesus promoted tolerance, empathy and diversity more so than any other person of his day. After all, he ate with sinners, told rich folk to give all their money to the poor and collected a motley assortment of followers to be his disciples.

The relativistic person who says, "Your beliefs are true for you and my beliefs are true for me," are really saying there can be two competing claims of "truth" that are both equally valid. They are really the ones in the extreme. But remember, no one really believes that in the important areas of life, (religion, politics and education, for example), opposing viewpoints have any merit. We're just trying to be polite.

But in those important areas of our lives, we need to assert our claim of truth. For example, those who claim that a woman has the "right to choose" abortion of her unborn child because she is the only one who really knows her situation and it is between "the woman and her god," are forgetting there is a competing "reality" in this situation, and that is the reality the unborn child experiences. If the promoters of relativism were really true to their beliefs, they would consider that others have competing claims that are equally valid and worthy of respect. The unborn child's claim to life should therefore hold equal weight to the claim of the woman for independence from the unborn child. In a span of nine months or less, the woman's claim for independence can be granted, and the child can be placed for adoption. In this incidence of competing claims for reality, it seems logical that both claims should be balanced so as to protect the rights of each to the greatest extent possible and doing the least harm to each.

The teachings of the Catholic Church, therefore, protect the rights of both parties to the greatest extent. Far from rejecting the claims of the woman for independence, the Church recognizes the reality of the unborn and fights to have the value of each person protected.

The lost tools of learning: will we ever find them?

I've been doing a lot of off-blog debating these days. It concerns the direction our little homeschooling co-op turned public school option program is going.

We have been happily partaking of the federal trough of taxpayer funded homeschooling resources through a great program called Home Option Program of Education. What began as a few moms sharing teaching efforts in a Christian co-op has expanded to utilize public funds for teachers and facilities and is now looking at creating their own charter high school.

I went to a few charter committee meetings during the summer to share my ideas for curriculum and a classical education, having used such a method, with some degree of success, for the past 18 years of homeschooling. As one of the early members of the program, and with four high school graduates under my belt, I figured they'd want to listen to my ideas.

Boy, was I wrong!

Little did I know the charter committee had already decided their course of action would have no part in medieval ideas of classical education, for they had already charted their course for "collaborative learning" and "critical thinking."

There's nothing like having to do a little research in educational theories and methods to fully convince one of the merits of homeschooling. I just did another re-read of Dorothy Sayer's essay, The Lost Tools of Learning. I'd forgotten just how delightfully refreshing it is to read her essay, first presented at Oxford in 1947.

I was struck by just how appropos this excerpt is today. Perhaps even more so now than it was in 1947:

For we let our young men and women go out unarmed, in a day when armor was never so necessary. By teaching them all to read, we have left them at the mercy of the printed word. By the invention of the film and the radio, we have made certain that no aversion to reading shall secure them from the incessant battery of words, words, words. They do not know what the words mean; they do not know how to ward them off or blunt their edge or fling them back; they are a prey to words in their emotions instead of being the masters of them in their intellects. We who were scandalized in 1940 when men were sent to fight armored tanks with rifles, are not scandalized when young men and women are sent into the world to fight massed propaganda with a smattering of "subjects"; and when whole classes and whole nations become hypnotized by the arts of the spell binder, we have the impudence to be astonished. We dole out lip-service to the importance of education--lip- service and, just occasionally, a little grant of money; we postpone the school-leaving age, and plan to build bigger and better schools; the teachers slave conscientiously in and out of school hours; and yet, as I believe, all this devoted effort is largely frustrated, because we have lost the tools of learning, and in their absence can only make a botched and piecemeal job of it.

I would love to say that after 18+ years of homeschooling, I've gotten it right and I am doing a great job of introducing my kids to the lost tools of learning, but the more I learn, the more I realize I don't know. I just hope my kids end up being smarter than me. Some of them already are!

A brief review of "A Raisin in the Sun"

My two high schoolers and I went to see a performance of A Raisin in the Sun at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts this past Thursday. There were also about 500 rather rowdy Denver Public School kids there, who insisted on hooting and hollering every time the house lights went down. Fortunately, they were better behaved when the lights went up and the actors were on stage.

I had never seen the play or the movie before, so I was going into it cold. But let me tell you, I'm so happy I went. It's not my normal choice of theatre; I prefer a musical or a comedy or Shakespeare...but this was a serious drama of racial tensions in the 1950's in Chicago's southside, but I found that it spoke to me on several other levels.

This is truly a timeless story. There is a scene where Walter Lee Younger, who is drunk, is going on and on about his "dreams" and how no one understands him, while his mother is trying to get him to listen to his wife who is trying to tell him that she is unexpectedly pregnant. Money is tight and this family is already stressed, and all his wife needs to hear from her husband is that he loves her and he will help her deal with this pregnancy. She gets no reassurance from him because he is so caught up in his own self seeking. She has already given the abortionist a down payment, perhaps knowing how her husband would respond.

The grandmother (Walter's mother) tells him to "be a man" like his father was and not let his "child be destroyed." She told him that they are a people who loves their children and not a people who destroy their children.

I couldn't help but think about the current state of the black family in America, where their abortion rate is 5 times greater than whites. Additionally, 80% of African American children are born to fatherless homes. If you want to make sure a child grows up in poverty and is at greater risk for violent crime and other social ills, then take the father out of the home.

I won't tell you how this story ends, but it is well worth watching. The classic movie version stars Sidney Poitier as Walter Lee Younger.

When life gives you lemons...sing a country song

I heard this song today on the radio. Sometimes you just need a good dose of country music reality. Truck died? Just got out of jail? Did you girlfriend leave you for your best friend? When you feel like whining or complaining, think about the words of this song, and "...suck it up."

Sounds Like Life to Me
( Darryl Worley, Wynn Varble, Phil O’Donnell )

Got a call last night from an old friend’s wife
Said I hate to bother you
Johnny Ray fell off the wagon
He’s been gone all afternoon
I know my buddy so I drove to Skully’s
And found him at the bar
I say hey man, what’s going on
He said I don’t know where to start

Sarah’s old car’s about to fall apart
And the washer quit last week
We had to put momma in the nursing home
And the baby’s cutting teeth
I didn’t get much work this week
And I got bills to pay
I said I know this ain’t what you wanna hear
But it’s what I’m gonna say

(Chorus)
Sounds like life to me it ain’t no fantasy
It’s just a common case of everyday reality
Man I know it’s tough but you gotta suck it up
To hear you talk you’re caught up in some tragedy
It sounds like life to me

Well his face turned red and he shook his head
He said you don’t understand
Three kids and a wife depend on me
And I’m just one man
To top it off I just found out
That Sarah’s 2 months late
I said hey bartender set us up a round
We need to celebrate

(Chorus)
Sounds like life to me plain old destiny
Yeah the only thing for certain is uncertainty
You gotta hold on tight just enjoy the ride
Get used to all this unpredictability
Sounds like life

Man I know its tough but you gotta suck it up
To hear you talk you’re caught up in some tragedy
Sounds like life to me
Sounds like life

Speed Dating or Courtship?

Have you heard of "speed dating"? According to Mr. Wikipedia (whoever he is!), "speed dating" originated with "...Rabbi Yaacov Deyo of Aish Ha Torah, originally as a way to help Jewish singles meet and marry." Supposedly it's been around since 1998, and made a huge splash when it was featured on "Sex and the City."

If you're not up to speed on this latest dating fad, don't feel bad. I've only recently heard about it, but I assumed it was for promiscuous work-aholics who didn't have time to develop real relationships or have anything other than a power lunch.

So, imagine my surprise when I heard my daughter's Newman Guide school's Catholic Campus Ministry was sponsoring a speed dating event.

I sure hope nobody takes it seriously, because for the life of me I can't figure out how chaste Christian courtship has anything to do with speed dating.

I think back on my very first date with the man who has been my husband for the past 22+ years. We sat at our table in an Italian restaurant (in Italy!) lost in conversation, staring into each other's eyes. We were barely aware of our surroundings, or that our waiter kept returning to fill our water glasses and ask us if we wanted anything else. The other tables had been stripped of tablecloths, silverware and glasses and the staff must've been eager to get home that night, but they let us sit there, lost in each other's gaze. It wasn't until we finally got up to go home that I realized the place was empty except for us, the waiter and the cook. They smiled knowingly at each other as we left the restaurant that night.

Keep your speed dating, I'll take mine nice and slow.

First Communion Preparation

We recently joined a new parish because we were looking for a parish home that would help us pass along the faith to our kids and give us a place where we would be fed the Gospel of Truth without apology. Our youngest two boys (ages 7 and 8) are preparing for their first confession and first communion and our 12 year-old daughter is also preparing for the sacrament of confirmation this year, so finding a good place was a big deal for us. We talked about it all summer and I looked into at least 7 nearby parishes.

We have such a busy family schedule that evening classes weren't going to work for our daughter for confirmation. Some of the parishes wouldn't allow a 7th grader to be confirmed. We also discounted two-year programs because of the time commitment and because it seemed most of them just filled the time with fluff programs that were designed to keep the kids coming rather than teach them the basics of their faith. My daughter was asking to be confirmed, so I thought it best to do it while she was eager to do it.

We could have prepared the youngest at home for first communion, since that's what I've done with all my others, but since our new parish offers CCD classes for all grades on Sunday mornings, right after Mass, we thought it would be easier (and more fun for the boys) if they were all in classes on Sunday. It is a sacrifice because it means we have to get everyone up early on Sunday for the 8:30 am Mass. But the sacrifice is worth it if it means our kids are getting solid teaching of the faith.

I'd forgotten some key items. First, the CCD teachers don't know us from Adam, so they have no idea if these kids come from a practicing Catholic home or a pagan home. Second, classes mean teachers talk, kids listen and write in their workbooks and kids have to read aloud.

Yesterday, my sons' first communion teacher told me they were struggling in her class. The comment surprised me because they have been asking to receive their first communion for well over a year. They weren't struggling with the material; they were struggling with the reading aloud and written assignments.

Reality check: these are two little boys who have only been in this country for 6 years. They are mostly average 7 and 8 year old boys, but they aren't independent readers yet. The younger one has some health issues (neurofibromatosis) which have been linked to learning delays and he has vision problems on top of that. He's also got some speech and language delays and has been receiving speech and cognitive therapy for over a year. On top of that, the parish is using the wonderful "Faith and Life" catechetical series. It's wonderful, and I've used it to prepare my older kids at home, but it most definitely isn't a second-grade reading level book! Additionally, some of the kids in their CCD class are in fifth grade.

The teacher told me, "It is the policy of our parish that a child must be able to read and write well in order to receive first confession and first communion, because they can't tell right from wrong if they can't read and write."

I repeated her words to her, "They can't tell right from wrong if they can't read and write?" I was astonished. I had never heard such a thing before.

This morning I called the parish religious education director to verify if this was the case, which indeed it is. Since we are newbies at the parish, (we joined the parish because of the excellent CCD classes), I gave the RE director some background on the boys. He seemed somewhat appeased by the fact that they have been asking to recieve communion for over a year, but he said he wouldn't make a final decision until he talked to the pastor and had a chance to meet with the boys.

I'm somewhat relieved, but also frustrated. I ended our conversation by saying that I had hoped we would be able to pass along the faith orally, rather than just by the written word, since that is how kids that age best learn. I can't help but wonder about kids who are more profoundly disabled or the many illiterate folks in the world who still need the sacraments.

I'm wondering if anyone else has experienced this? Have you ever been told your child can't recieve a sacrament because they can't read and write well enough?

When vulgarity masquerades as poetry

I've been in a quandry lately and I couldn't quite figure out how to express it in my blog without bringing discredit to others.

I was in a quandry at least until I read this blog today.

In her Conversion Diary blog, Jennifer Fulwiler reminds Christian bloggers to take heed the advice of St. Francis de Sales. In his book, Finding God's Will for You, St. Francis, tells us "...those who follow...hellish suggestions in the belief that they are heavenly inspirations can usually be recognized because they are unsettled, headstrong, haughty, and ready to undertake or meddle in affairs. Under the pretext of zeal, they subvert everything, criticize everyone, rebuke everyone, and find fault with everything. They are men without self-control and without consideration, who put up with nothing. In the name of zeal for God's honor, they indulge in the passions of self-love."

You see, my daughter attends a university named for St. Francis de Sales. She had an unfortunate experience recently, in that she attended a poetry reading on campus featuring a vulgar "poet" who goes by the moniker Oveous Maximus and whose rap lyrics were full of graphic sexual images. I wanted to scream out to the rooftops and tell the world just what I thought of Mr. Maximus and the University that brought him there to pollute the minds of their students. But St. Francis de Sales' words cautioned me to slow down, take a deep breath and think about the effect my words may have on others. As one who considers herself a Christian blogger, I need to consider every word I write so as not to take myself too seriously or assume all my words are "heavenly inspirations." Yet I am still a fiercely loyal mother and I can be pretty scary when I get my ire up. Consider yourselves forewarned.

In this digital information age I was able to view his poetry on youtube. Surprisingly, he has also has some good poems, like "Dulce de Leche," which exhalt the dignity of womanhood. In fact, he tells one audience the reason he chose the name Oveous Maximus was to do precisely that: Oveous coming from the Latin ovum, which celebrates the life-giving role of woman. Maximus elevates the role of woman to near god-hood, or so he says.

Yet one particular poem that upset my daughter was titled, "Letter to My Future Ex-Girlfriend," and it begins similarly to "Dulce de Leche," but then it veers dramatically to the vulgar and begins to take a more violent rhythym while describing unsavory acts which he would like his girlfriend to perform on him.

My daughter's complaints to the Multicultural Office that sponsored the event have thus far been met with a condescending pat on the head, and "...how nice it is that you feel secure enough to express your opinions because that's what college is all about and yet we must remember that he has the right to express himself as well..." So, we are continuing our attempts to relay our displeasure to the University and to get them to recognize that Mr. Maximus is not the ideal role model for Catholic youth striving to be holy.

It wasn't until I was discussing this for the upteenth time with my husband last night that I realized there was some good in Mr. Maximus and I should recognize that when I write about him. However, a bit of dog poo in a batch of brownies can destroy the entire pan even if it's only a bit. And some of his stuff is, well...dog poo.

If you'd like to see an excerpt of my daughter's letter to the Mulitculturalistas, here it is.

Hiking Jurassic Park

Geologic point of interest on the south side of I-70.

We have some amazing hiking trails right in our backyard here in the Denver area. Yesterday we went on three hikes: two short hikes and a longer hike. The two short hikes were along either side of Interstate 70, to step back in time and see the geologic formations that were unearthed when they blasted through a hill in order to connect the interstate highway system in 1971. The other hike was a 4.2 mile loop near Red Rocks amphitheater. All three hikes are literally minutes from our home.

Close-up view of the layering.

First we stopped at a geologic point of interest on the south side of I-70 as it enters the mountains west of Denver. The last time my husband and I had been there was about 15 years ago, before any of our young hiking companions were born. We were excited to show them the signboards which explained the different colors of layers of rock that had been uncovered when road crews blasted through this chunk of mountain when they were finishing building I-70.

We were amazed at the amount of erosion that had occurred since that time. All the sign boards were gone and large rocks had fallen into the paved path. The guard rail had warning signs about not getting too close and in many places the path was covered by sand, loose sandstone and shale. Nevertheless, we could see the cut-out on the north side of I-70 and that there were still signboards on that side. We decided to visit that side at the end of our hike. A rock on the trail.

White sand from erosion on the trail.

We kept a close eye on the weather because the beautiful blue sky of the morning was quickly filling with clouds as the afternoon came. Honestly, I didn't think we'd be able to complete our planned 4.2 mile loop with our youngest guy. He's not a really strong hiker and I wasn't about to carry a 7 year-old (no matter how small he might be!)

The Red Rocks trail head.

We found the trail head near a parking lot just before the amphitheater at Red Rocks. If you haven't heard about the natural amphitheater at Red Rocks, it is a world-famous concert venue. The Beatles played here. And the Fray played a sold-out concert here. Yesterday, another sold-out concert was preparing for an evening performance.

Side view of the amphitheater from the trail.

The scenery was gorgeous! Sometimes we get so busy with our lives that we forget to look up at the stars in the night sky, or simply look around us. This hike is so close to our home, but the landscape is so amazingly different and beautiful that I couldn't stop taking pictures and exclaiming, "Oh! Look at that rock!"

Dung beetle?

There were still wildflowers blooming, and what I think must be a dung beetle, though I haven't taken the time to look it up yet. But this little fella was crawling around a pile of poo and I couldn't resist taking his picture.

Looking down on our van.

Soon the path began to climb rather steeply. Our brave hikers kept up a good pace and once we got to the top of the ridge we knew we had to keep going. The sky was darkening and a brisk wind came up, but the view from the top was stunning.

Buckley AFB "golf balls" in the distance.

From the top of the trail we could see the cut-out on I-70.

The path down was called the Morrison Slide Trail, but fortunately we didn't encounter any rock slides. There were a few tricky bits that made us happy to have our walking sticks with us!

We made it down the mountain and to our van just as it began to sprinkle lightly, but we were enthusiastic about seeing the other side of I-70 because we felt very brave and strong for having finished such a hike with our three young companions (and dog).

Happy hikers!

The north side of I-70.

The drive to the other geologic point of interest was very short...probably less than 10 minutes. When we got out of the van we were met by very strong gusty winds, which made the boys giggle and squeal with delight! I held on tightly to small hands because I was a bit concerned that someone might be picked up and tossed onto the highway below. Fortunately, we were able to walk in the wind and we had rain jackets because it was now starting to rain rather steadily.

The signboards are still in place on the north side.

The signboards were in place, which described in great detail the both the age and the composition of the rocks we were looking at. These rocks were formed over a period of about 45 million years...they represented the time period from 140 million to 95 million years ago, which spans the end of the Jurassic period and the beginnings of the Cretaceous period.

The formations we saw are part of the Morrison Formation, which includes nearby Dinosaur Ridge, where you can see actual dinosaur footprints imbedded in the rock along the roadway.

Cold and tired but happy.

It's a good thing we went on our hike yesterday. Today, on the last day of summer, there is snow in the foothills!