No trip to Colorado is complete without experiencing guns in some way or another. My childhood best friend, Orange Clouds, invited me to a Labor Day weekend gathering at her parents’ house. Here are some photos:
The above photo is of the little shack her father built for shooting, containing a mini-fridge full of the most stereotypically American beers, plus some trendy Ft. Collins beers her brother brought up from Denver. Her cousin and brother are on the deck. Funny thing about that deck…it actually used to be attached to their house. Orange Clouds told me that one day, her father pretty much just uprooted the deck and carried it right up the hill for his shooting shack. Ha ha!
Photos of the inside of the shack:
Her father shooting:
Manning the clay pigeon shooters:
Five points for anyone who can identify what’s in these photos:
I have one last photo, and Orange Clouds is probably going to kill me for this one. Just as no trip to Colorado is complete without experiencing guns, no trip to her parents’ house is complete without digging through old stuff from our childhood. I nearly pissed myself laughing when she showed me this:
Cute, eh? When Orange Clouds and I were thirteen years old, we had heartrending crushes on two boys our age. Those boys were always together, just like Orange Clouds and I were. Thinking back on it now, we’re not sure why we liked them. The one I liked was an idiot, and the one she liked had a serious “duck butt”. But at the time, they were oh so dreamy, and we were hopelessly nerdy and couldn’t have caught their attention if our lives depended on it. In those days, it was tradition for me to stay the night at her house on Fridays. Her mom always ordered pizza and we always watched old movies. On one such Friday night, we got down a box of craft materials her mother kept. The box was magical, containing cloth scraps, glitter, ribbons, buttons, and stretchy elastic bands. From this box, we made two dolls that were supposed to represent those two boys we liked. This is her doll. My doll, regretfully, did not survive the years, but I can still describe him. His body was made from a neon green sock, and he had long dark green legs made from ribbons. (Because the boy I liked was tall and gangly.) His hair was made from wavy black craft ribbon (the kind that gets glued on to holiday themed bulletin boards as trim), and his nose stuck out in a Halloween witch like point. I can’t remember if he had clothes or not. Knowing me, he probably didn’t!