Solar/Wind-Powered Strawbale Home for Sale in Colorado!

Friends of mine are selling their custom-built strawbale solar-and-wind-powered home on 40 acres in a mountain valley of Colorado. I wish we could buy it and live in that quiet valley, ringed by snowcapped peaks of the Wet Mountains on one side and the Sangre de Christo Mountains on the other! Life could be something altogether different from what it is here and now. Peaceful. Serene. Antelopes and eagles as neighbors. Wilderness hiking just a brief walk from the front door. No electric bills.

The trouble is that Gary and I both make our living in this town.

Their place is amazing. They even build a strawbale barn and garage. There's a greenhouse attached to the home, so that it helps to heat it (for free!) in the winter. There's a workout room, so they can stay fit enough for their hiking adventures.

I know they're sad to be selling their dream home, but its a medical necessity. Michael needs to move down to sea level, for his health. This home is at 7,800 feet elevation.

Do you know anyone who might be interested in an absolute dream home in paradise? Check out this website that I made for them, and please pass it along to anyone on your email list who might want to purchase it. Whoever buys it will be the luckiest, most grateful person you know!

http://www.strawbale4sale.blogspot.com

Guard Kitten Saves The Day

We awoke to the sight of a mule deer buck with a massive rack eating the lilac bush outside our bedroom window.

Maya the kitten got her first glimpse of a deer when Gary lifted her to the windowsill. She was fascinated. We then put her outside the back door. She trotted up to the deer, and stopped on a flagstone a couple of feet away.

When Bucky had his fill, he turned to go up the walkway. Tiny Maya arched her furry little back and stood her ground on the flagstone. The deer backed up. Maya sat down. The deer stepped forward, and she arched fiercely once again. He eyed her calmly, steadily.

I called and called, but nothing would persuade our Guard Kitten to leave her post. Eventually the deer glanced at me, invisibly shrugged his shoulders, and walked around another way. Maya immediately collapsed into a little limp heap on her flagstone.

She seemed relieved but proud when I ran over to pick her up. At great peril to herself, she had singlehandedly saved our home and lives from the ravages of a deadly killer deer! I did my purr-imitation into her fur, to show her I was proud of her bravery too.

Bucky made his way to the back of the garden and hopped over the 8' fencing with ease. I photographed his antlers backlit by the early morning sun, as he got ready to hop the fence.

A Welcome Addition to the Family

We'd been thinking that the time was coming to get a kitten. Our cat and dog both died in December. The bunnies are fun, but the don't bond and play with us the way cats and dogs do.

When I got back from Sedona, we decided to start looking for the right kitten. One night I dreamed all night long of playing with a calico kitten. I'd wake up and return into the same dream. The next morning I visited the Humane Society. There was one calico kitten, a long-haired little calico girl. She was sweet and sleepy and friendly, so we took her home. Somehow, Gary and I both thought of the name Maya, after playing with her for a few hours. Maya she is! As I type this, she is snoozing on my desk, paws on the keyboard.

She's been part of our family for over two weeks now. She's learned how to play without using her claws. It took awhile, but she's finally learned that bad things happen to her when she pounces on our fluttering eyelids in the middle of the night! And she's discovered that her bunny brothers run away when she tries to wrestle with them.

Our family rhythm is developing. Maya sleeps all night without waking us, at last. When she awakes, she spends half an hour being petted, purring loudly and tumbling in happy somersaults between Gary and me. This seems to be her bonding time. We eat breakfast on the back patio. Bunnies and kitten come out and lie together on the cement at our feet. Then they chase each other around the garden paths for awhile. When it gets hot they all traipse in the house, and we close the door to keep the heat out. In the evenings, we gather in the living room - humans on the sofa, four-leggeds on the rug. Maya goes wild for an hour, attacking everything in sight and leaping into the air for fun. If I take a bath, she hops onto the edge of the tub, then steps gingerly onto my chest. She stands there with dry feet and drinks from the bathwater, then hops back out. What an adventurous lass she is! Then we all go to bed. Maya starts her night's sleep by draping herself like a noodle-scarf across my throat or Gary's, purring.

It's hard to resist the baby-love she exudes. Her sweetness is healing our grief and bringing a new style of fun into our home.

Part 7: The Last of Sedona

The comfortable hotel in Sedona was no small part of the trip. The Red Rocks Lodge is perched on top of a mesa overlooking the town of Sedona. A circle of gargantuan mesas are eye-level from the hotel's mesa-top. West Sedona appears to be miles and miles below. My room was nicer than I'd expected, with a little gas fireplace in the corner and two giant beds. Sorry you missed it, Birdie! The beds were comfy, and the landscaped pool and jacuzzi area was just a few steps away. Young jackrabbits hopped around the lawn, reminding me of how fortunate I am to have pettable rabbit friends in my home.

My sister and I hung out on our joint back porch and sewed/ designed / glued gifts for our brother's birthday ceremony. After the ceremony, he came back to our room with us and admired all of his gifts. Here is a photo of a 50 year old Peter. I still remember holding him on my lap as my baby brother! Looks like he grew up and got all handsome.

The drive back was much like the drive out. I do love the peace and quiet of driving across country with only myself for company. Nonetheless, when I got home to my own husband, rabbits and exquisitely comfortable bed, it was a relief.

Part 6 - The Greatness of Wide Open Spaces

In Sedona, it's easy to feel expanded and relaxed. The scale of life is unique there. With gargantuan rock formations hovering above all, reflecting a thousand centuries of life, my existence is small. In that smallness, I feel like a part of those ancient centuries myself. My trail of footprints is one more element in the millenia since this land was once under water. One day it may be under water again. A diver from the future may find my bootprint on some underwater hillside, and wonder.

The upper photos were taken as the three of us aging siblings hiked into the wilderness beyond Sedona. The rock wall in the photo is next to where we ushered Peter into his second half of this life. The three of us sat on the sandy ground behind a giant boulder, near Oak Creek. We ceremonially told him what we appreciated about him in his first half of his life. Then we asked him what he wanted to take with him into his second half-century, and what he wanted to leave behind. Lastly, we gave him our wishes and our family's wishes for him in the coming years. He received gifts from family and friends that we brought along. Then we all sat against the boulder, eating and listening to the trees rustle amid birdsong.

Part 5 - Sedona AZ

Sedona Arizona at last! Sedona is a small town nestled between mesas and buttes taller than the imagination can comprehend. These dwarf even my beloved Colorado red rocks. It's hot and dry, but Oak Creek flows through the edge of town. In the Oak Creek Canyon, the air is cooler and moister. Breathing is an enjoyable activity there.

You can see my sister photographing the primary formation that overshadows the town of Sedona. The bottom photo shows me with my sister and one of our brothers, outside Sedona. If you look closely, you can see a small village beneath that rock formation.

Can you find the chameleon on the branch, in the top photo?

Part 4 - Badlands Visitor Center

I stopped at this Visitors Center in the New Mexican Badlands. The light is so stark there, that it makes for interesting contrasts. The air smelled like sage, cedar and dust for two days as I crossed the volcanic desert at six times the speed of the old wagon trains. Fast as I was driving, I felt rested by the lack of urban noise, color, shapes and lights. Nature can be peaceful in the desert, even through a car window.