I would of course! Shoot, I’ve taken on Morgellons Disease and Mermaids, why wouldn’t I take on mutilated cattle. Actually, you may be surprised, I’ve been thinking about them since before my encounter with Morgellons or my fondness of mermaids. Let’s go back in time.

It was the fall of 1997. I’d just finished getting certified to teach and landed a position in Moffat, Colorado. The school made up more than half the square-footage of a one horse town (maybe not even one horse.) Isolated and in the middle of the San Luis Valley, it was the land of cheap real estate and strange stories.

Now enters the mutilated cattle (kind of an awful image, don’t you think?)

I guess I first heard about the stories after reading Mysterious Valley by Chris O’Brian (recommended by a friend to prepare me for my new home). I was a little taken by the sheer amount of strange stories associated with the valley. UFOs, bigfoot, crystal skulls and, yes, mutilated cattle- just to mention a few.

I recall one fellow teacher sharing, “Mutilated cattle are caused by disgruntled district employees.” I laughed.

I lived at the north end of the valley in Saguache. In looking at real estate, I considered an abandoned movie theater as a possible home/ business (good I didn’t make that investment!)I knew the real estate agent, the local artists, the local hippies, and the local ranchers. Living in an extremely small town, you get to know most of the occupants.

One friend I made was a sheriff Dispatcher. One snowy evening she whispered, “They found another.”

“Another,” I said lifting my voice just enough to make it a question.

“A mutilated cow. The snow covered the pasture. There were no tracks. Steam was still rising from the body.”

I think I sat up awhile in my bed that night. If it is aliens, why would they stop at cattle? Why would they let a simple wood frame house keep them from a really interesting specimen? What’s that sound in the kitchen? Yes, it is just that easy to keep me up all night.

So, the mutilated cattle are still out there (among a few mutilated horses). It’s a good mystery, don’t you think? Now I’m wondering if the four hour drive beyond Wolf Creek Pass and an extended stay might bring me into the proper state to write another novel. Humm. Yes, there are many interesting people...and stories. Maybe it’s time. Maybe I need to revisit the mutilated cattle.

*note- Cattle pictured above are from a Maasai market I visited in Tanzania. Aliens will not mutilate these cattle (the Maasai wouldn't allow it. No one messes with the Maasai!)

Morning is here. My current lifestyle is one of dragging myself to work and dragging myself home. It's tough. My life is out of balance. 

Last evening, I found myself hiking over to the Carpenter Nature at the north edge of town. It was quiet and I had the setting to myself (except for the occasional rabbit scurrying or bird flit from sage to sage). 

When I go out for one of these quiet adventures, I pause to take in the sunset. This was a special night though. Equally spectacular to the sun setting like a hallow to the "head" of the Sleeping Ute Mountain was a full moon rising over the La Plata Mountains to the east. I had my camera and took some pictures to post.

Speaking of the full moon, tonight I'm hosting a potluck. Since I'll be making some mango margaritas, I suspect the potluck will turn into a party. While I can appreciate the spectrum of quiet solitude to boisterous partying. Last night I needed some quiet. What I need tonight is a party.

Life is awfully good. I guess I can’t really compare it to anything…except maybe pre-life (can you remember what it was like before you were born? Me either.)

I have a couple of housemates. Tony lives in the basement. Jon is in the spare bedroom.

I connected with Tony by posting a little ad on Craigslist (something like “Room in exchange for your carpentry skills”). Anyhow, he showed up with a trailer of tools and a dream. He has helped with the home improvements a ton. He’s also a great cook and we’ve become good friends.

Jon has been a friend for about a year. We first met over a conversation at the local coffee house (shared our challenges of unemployment - is it true the new norm is plenty of middle aged folks who are struggling to survive?). Anyhow, we’re great friends. He contacted me a month ago saying he needed a place (as he’s navigating through a divorce).  While I’m at work as a teacher, he’s been helping Tony with the home repairs.

Anyhow, the house is really coming together! I’d not truly understood what kind of project I was undertaking. It is amazing through all we can accomplish with the help of friends (old and new). The big plan this week is to begin painting the exterior.

I’m sipping my first cup of morning java. Soon we will be dipping the brush in the bucket. I have a feeling it’ll be a landmark day. I am already having visions of big parties under the full moon…enjoying this big space I call home.

Be not weak my friends. Life is good. I am a writer. I am a painter. The writing is done. Now I paint. 

Have you ever had a theme running through your head? I catch onto these every now and then. My most recent is one I truly love- it is “No Worries”.

The core root of most profound themes goes back to Disney (actually, it goes back well before Disney, but humor me by following my logic). We all walked away from The Lion King with a short lesson in Swahili and didn’t even know it. “Hakuna Matata” rolls off the tongue like some like the joyous tickle of a back-seat teen who has just caught wind on a bump and is laughing their ass off (you know what I’m talking about…right?). I actually first saw the movie with a large group of teens who I’d chaperoned to the theater. While we were all touched to near tears with Elton’s “Can You Feel the Love Tonight”, within minutes of our bus ride back to campus some were singing “Hakuna Matata” (little did I know I would eventually spend time living in East Africa and make use of the phrase daily).

Jump to the present.  A couple of weeks ago, I went to dinner with a friend and coworker. I didn’t have my vehicle, so he offered a ride in his low rider. The side of the vehicle slick with a large custom paint job of “Puropedo”. I try to pronounce it, and Marco corrects me then tells me, “It means ‘No Worries’. My brothers and I have a clothing company.” I began to wonder, Is this a theme?

About a week ago I subbed for a class at the Cortez High School. In my spare time, I was preparing for a job interview with the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe in Towaoc, Colorado. A couple of young Native American men in the back of the class were talking about living in Towaoc. I was curious and asked them, “What does Towaoc mean?”

One of them responded, “It means ‘No Worries’” and a couple of the students began singing, “Hakuna Matata”.

Yesterday, as I sat in a parking lot with a dead battery and six Mormons on missions looking under the hood, I thought to myself, No worries. One dripped ice cream on his tie as another informed me, “A police officer from our Ward is coming to help out.” God bless the Mormons on a mission. I’m charging my battery at this very moment.

Hakuna Matata, Puropedo, Towaoc…whatever the language, no worries is a theme to live by. Tap it on your forehead, put it on the fridge, or simply say it repeatedly each and every day. No Worries- now these are words to live by!