The first October snow brought bitter cold temperatures. Those of us concerned about Colorado wildfires are grateful for the moisture, and hopeful the snow will assist firefighters in controlling the burn.

Let's reminisce about warmer days for a moment. The summer of 2020, we spent a lot of time in the mountains. As a result, we saw lots of wildlife. Some were repeaters.

A bunny decided to take advantage of all the convenient hiding places we created on our ranch. I saw it nearly every weekend. The bachelor deer herd enjoyed grazing our field.

Others were new to me, or had been elusive for many years. A fishing trip to Wyoming brought us up close and personal with mountain goats and beaver. 

​I didn't realize how large pelicans are until I saw them standing next to Canada geese.

The first day of our fishing trip, I broke my phone, which is also my camera. I didn't get any photos after that, but my husband did. Below are a few.

I had a dream I could not go inside my favorite natural foods grocery store because I didn't have a face mask. Then I remembered my husband had stocked all our vehicles with masks. I opened my glove box. Every mask in my car was soiled with motor oil. 

Part of this anxiety dream may have been inspired by my forgetting to take pretty home-sewn masks with me, and being stuck wearing the blue paper masks we keep in our vehicles.

Since having that dream, I have stocked my purse and vehicle with masks sewn by our elder daughter and myself.

I used material I purchased over the years with the intention to sew a quilt. That project never left the ground. Instead, the small pieces of material are being put to an unexpected use.

We can argue whether masks are effective or not, but the fact is they are required in my workplace, and at many of the places I shop. Maybe it's a little bit of rebellion to make the depersonalizing face mask a statement of individuality.

How about you? If required to wear a mask, do you go with the institutional look, or do you choose a fun look? Or scary, like my co-worker with the monster-face masks.

In late August, I removed the Facebook icon from my cell phone. It was too easy to constantly check on social media. So I detached. 

A couple weeks later, we went on a Wyoming fishing trip. There was no cell service. We were off the grid. To add to the isolation, I dropped my phone on gravel the first day, shattering the screen. 

I did not panic. I felt deliciously self-sufficient. Lately, I have been concerned at how comfortable I'd gotten with receiving news in bite-sized pieces. No one writes letters. Facebook posts are typically a picture and the briefest of explanations. More like captions.

I'm tired of a captioned life. If all people have time for is sound bites, glimpses of others' realities, I'll take a pass.

Instead of Face-booking, I've done a little sewing, more blogging, and more reading. When we drive anywhere that takes an hour or more, I read Grant, by Ron Chernow, to my husband. At over 900 pages, this biography is taking us months to read. And it is making us both think and learn about American history.

Being off the grid made me feel like I didn't exist anymore. Not in the bustling, frenetic world of electronic connections. I enjoyed being disconnected.

This little beaver slapped its tail on the water to warn me to keep my distance. I told it my kind used to make hats out of its kind. Fortunately for the beaver, fashions changed.

Maybe trends will change for people, too. Instead of superficial exchanges with faceless strangers via electronic devices, maybe we can get back to more meaningful communication.

The short stories in the September/October 2020 issue of Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine kept me guessing.

Was it murder or suicide, in Mrs. White Hart by Elliot F. Sweeney. London PI Kasper was recommended, in a manner of speaking, for the investigation by a dead, dotty homeless woman. The PI goes deep undercover, disguising himself as a homeless alcoholic. This is not too much of a stretch for the deeply troubled man. Kasper endangers himself in the pursuit of the facts. This is a moody, bleak, vividly related tale.

Storage, by Dan Crawford, is by contrast light and humorous. The brief, amusing tale is set in a museum storage vault. There is a pleasant twist at the end.

When I began reading Fruiting Bodies, by Jane Pendjiky, mushrooms and a disgruntled wife figured prominently. I knew exactly where this was going. I was wrong. The story is beautifully written. And the unexpected ending was set up perfectly.

The cover story for this issue is Call It Sad, Call It Funny, by Christopher Latragna. When Henry’s lady friend and fellow gambler asks him to help her out of a tricky situation, he travels around Saint Louis in 1955 in a cab, seeking clues to a murder. I particularly enjoyed the cab driver character, Vincent, who becomes essential to unraveling the mystery.

Sharon Jarvis created a likeable female curmudgeon in Who Killed What’s Her Name? The retired lawyer with a bad memory for names is pulled in for questioning concerning a murder. Fortunately, Ms. Korbin stored all her old files. Will that be enough to save her from being accused of killing a former client’s wife?
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I’m only a third of the way through this entertaining issue. I look forward to reading more stories guaranteed to take my mind off real world issues. 

Today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day. You're welcome, matey.

Our world has been on fire. For those of us living in the American West, this is literally true. ​

I watched a documentary on the history of forest fires I highly recommend. The Big Burn demonstrates the complexity of this issue.

The fires in Colorado have calmed some, while the West Coast rages on. Not until you have stood on a mountaintop and seen the vast expanse of national forest can you comprehend the daunting task "managing" these areas present. 

Working on our "ranch" brings us a lot of satisfaction, and sore muscles. My husband and I both work desk jobs. We enjoy getting our hands dirty, making our little place in the mountains more comfortable. Plus, we get to see the beauty of nature, up close and personal.

I read the July/August Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine cover to cover. In these days of restricted travel, it was a pleasure to wander around the big wide world via fiction.

Mystic Dream by John F. Dobbyn takes place at a horse racing track. A legendary trainer fears he has lost his touch when his horses start losing every race. Charlie has staked his reputation and his life's savings on a dream filly. He might lose everything if his former jockey can't help him unravel the mystery.

If you go to The Library of Poisonville by Robert Lopresti, tucked away in mountain catacombs, you can check out references to classic mystery fiction by the dozens. An online friendship between two mystery fiction fans and first edition collectors goes live. Purist Richard Hanley's amazement at tech billionaire Emil Phoffner's collection turns to horror when Emil unveils his latest invention - a machine that generates books.

Second Sight, by David Edgerley Gates, straddles decades during the current day investigation of a body discovered when a concrete  garage floor is dug up for renovation. The story takes place in New Mexico, and is rich with the setting unique to that state.

The contrast with the setting in The Pledge, by Susan Oleksiw, is dramatic, taking the reader from the heat of the southwest to the frozen New Hampshire winter. This story spans time, too, although measured in months, not decades. A fraternity pledge is sent on a wintry hike by a member with an ax to grind.

Reckoning With Your Host, by R. T. Lawton, drops us in the middle of a battle between opium warlords. A family war rages between brothers, rivals for control of their father's domain. The narrator travels through a dense jungle in Southeast Asia, with lush descriptions that make you feel you're in the middle of the action. 

We travel to post-Civil War era Bentonville, Arkansas, in Nancy Pauline Simpson's story The Amputation Pit. The mystery involves the Civil War practice of tossing amputated limps into pits, so horrific and plentiful were the battle injuries. Old timers from that time period would rather forget their roles in a decades old murder.

Next we're in modern Chicago with Wayne J. Gardiner's story, Strictly Business.  A man happens upon a gangster's transfer of money in a publicly placed briefcase. Whether and how the man can extricate himself from a dangerous situation is the basis for the tale, set primarily in a tense exchange in the Four Seasons lounge.   

Plein Air by Elaine Menge follows rivalries between artists, as a student stalks his favorite teacher. It's not the location as much as the setting in the academic world of artists that takes us out of our own world.

A Beastly Trial by Mark Thielman is another historical mystery, where a medieval lawyer in France must find a way to please both sides of a tricky case involving murderous swine.

We travel to Hawaii for J. D. L. R., by Albert Tucher. A native Hawaiian police officer faces a honeymoon gone wrong at a popular tourist site - Akaka Falls.

In The Substitute Dealer, Jeff Soloway travels inside a mother's broken heart when her son is murdered. We slowly learn this woman is not your typical mom.

The final tale in this issue is the Black Orchard Novella Award winner The Red Taxi, by Ted Burge. The slightly futuristic premise of self-driving taxis takes place in San Francisco. A homeless private detective is hired to learn how a taxi turned murderous.

Lee Lofland's Case Files this issue is on the topic of the differences between police chiefs and sheriffs.

I enjoyed every story in this issue, as authors transported me to unique settings, historical periods, and situations. 

This time of year, thrifty gardeners begin canning the produce from their plots. Suddenly, gardens are bursting with an overabundance. Freezing or canning can ensure you enjoy a taste of summer well into the winter months.

My garden promises a lot of tomatoes this year. We'll see. One variety is designed for drying. All I have to do is cut them in half and put them in my food drying appliance, a simple device that blows warm air over trays of vegetables. I'll have dried tomatoes for a year.

​I definitely have an abundance of scenery. This winter, I want to remember all the green in this photo. I have heard that you remember better what you simply observe, rather than photograph. Maybe your brain decides it doesn't need to log that memory because you captured it digitally.

So a recent weekend, when I strolled around our "ranch" in the mountains, I tried to observe more than photograph. I want these memories for the middle of winter, when short days and cold weather get me down.

I couldn't resist this, though. It's the perfect combination of greens and blue sky, with wisps of clouds and the lovely pine cones adding interest.

I hope you're making memories this summer.