...lived in the most beautiful place on earth.

Don't argue.


Excuse me for a minute, I'm about to get sappy.


After years of military housing and suburban neighborhoods, I'm lucky enough to live on 27 idyllic acres in Colorado. It is, quite frankly, difficult to even begin to describe how much I love this place. It's home in a way no other place has been, which makes being in Utah even harder. I love the openness, the freedom, the animals, the smell, the sounds: everything--even the snow. You go outside and chickadees make you feel like a Disney princess as they land on your hand. It's a magical place, I tell you! Magical!


Certainly, this lifestyle is not without its pitfalls. There are few things more discouraging than arriving home at night during a blizzard only to realize your driveway (a small glimpse of which is in that photo above) is far too icy to get up and you have to walk up, which is difficult even on a warm summer day what with the steepness, length, and altitude. Most likely you'll be in your holey Chucks, or possibly even heels, and there's a good possibility you'll have just arrived from Utah and thus have lots of bags you need to carry up that will end strewn across the driveway as you slip and slide. On the other hand, it makes for incredible sledding--even if you are risking your life if you don't bail well before the road. Don't worry though, the UPS man will see you early enough to avoid squashing you. Usually.

Then there's afternoons like this, and it's all too easy to forget about the sometimes dreary winters. Summers here are nothing short of magnificent: never above the 80s, few insects, lush wildflowers everywhere, and the aspens provide a lovely soundtrack to your days. Many nights I sleep outdoors because I can't bear to miss the incredible stars. The only potential problem with summer is the bear, but we only saw it once this year, and it didn't even do any damage. I guess you might die from the lack of oxygen as you traipse around trying to look at all the gorgeous views, but that's entirely your fault. Weakling.

I can't listen to John Denver when I'm not here, even though he's actually a favorite of mine; a couple of lines from his "Rocky Mountain High" will have me bawling, which is always rather awkward for anyone who happens to be nearby. It's pathetic, really, but there's a reason I come here so often. Okay, yes, it often has to do with free food and laundry, but being here revitalizes me in a way that nothing else can. Also my parents' washer has a lovely handwash setting so I get to wash all my sweaters and dresses that normally require intensive labor to clean. But mostly it's just super pretty here.

And we haven't even talked about what's around my 27 acres (hint: mountains). Sure, this place is not for everyone. There's those freaks that continue to say the northwest is better or New England, or even California beaches. They're wrong, of course, but I guess it's good crazy people like that exist--more room for me here.