Pie and Furry Foot, I Love You




Our landlords said it would only be a month (when we arrived here in Colorado), and God, I hope we're really only two weeks away from moving to our new quaint mountain town. We headed up the canyon for Sean's 26th birthday breakfast, because he had a hankerin' for the General Store's grub, but the secret motivation was to slip-in and see the progress on the cabin — which was none. Awesome.

Anyway, the trip was more than worth the drive regardless. Two reasons: pie and Furry Foot. So the "pie" part is pretty self explanatory. Pie is awesome and the General Store carries a fantastic variety of sweet and savory kinds. Maybe it's the fact that you can cover your pot-pie with green chili (which is like Colorado's ketchup, because it comes on everything) that makes it so good. Or maybe it's the giant wood-burning potbelly stove you sit next to eating it. Maybe the dusty saloon floor or hand-carved rockers... Dear god, who am I kidding. They're pie is just good.

Okay, but Furry Foot. Every time I go to town, I am always left mesmerized. After we ordered (our amazing pie meals), we then proceed to peruse the goods the General Store stocks for the locals and the passing-through. Past the can goods and hardware lies a basket of smudge sticks made of Sage and other dried flora. This is not surprising considering almost all grocers in Colorado stock similar products ("to cleanse the air, home, or spirit"). But what is interesting though is the small stack of paper next to the basket, describing the mix of sticks in hand-writing*:

"Sweetgass - Hierochloe Odorata: When burned, a good purifier, or burn twice a day as a thank you to everyone. Pearly Everlasting - Anaphalis Margaritacea: burning relieves headakes and is cleanser for everyone, also very good for warding off troublesome ghosts. Yarrow - Achillea Millefolium: burning will break up fevers. Red Buffalo Grass: decorative only."

That last description is priceless; After all that: "decorative only". So I'm moved — absolutely moved, and then at the bottom there's a personal note:

"I am the elder who lives in the foothills. In my garden I grow all the plants to heal everyone. Nobody sprays them with any bad poisen. I give thanks to the lives and spirit of each plant, and am grateful for my understanding. I love what I'm doing and I'm doing what I was born to do. Poet, gardener, artist – Furry Foot."

Yes — I am going to live in this town. If not for Sean's mountain-dream sake, I am going to live in this town to meet Furry Foot. Bucket list bullet added. Not to mention, the last picture here is of our new home... in 1893 when it was a gold mining community. Oh my god, I just want to move already.


*excuse Furry Foot's spelling