Muse, Music

Last week, when I was in unpacking hell, my friend Toni reached out to see if I wanted to grab coffee soon. Though I’ve known Toni for… oh, 8, 9 years?… I think we’ve met in person twice before. She lived outside of Chicago until moving to Loveland, Colorado about a year ago, so we are suddenly and fortuitously neighbors.

I cannot tell you what a relief it is to have some friends already established in the area. For one thing, those friends deeply understand what it’s like to uproot your life and move across the country.

For another thing, they’ve often already scoped out the best coffee shops. Toni chose Muse, owned by a sculptor and her family. I had a handmade pastry (“it’s my grandmother’s recipe,” says the barista) and a decaf London Fog in the sweetest mug. (In the photo, you can see the reverse of one of the many pieces of sculpture festooning the coffee shop.)

Tea with Toni was just what I needed. Toni has enjoyed an extensive writing career and understands the frustrations and joys of building a freelance business. She is intuitive, helpful and hilarious — I’m thrilled to be living down the road from her.

After lunch I met a colleague at The Music District, a jaw-dropping facility on the edge of the CSU campus. Musicians can find resources at the Music District to write and record music, put on performances, learn the economics of the music industry, you name it. The venue is stunning — a historic renovation of some of CSU’s oldest sorority houses– and the space seems state of the art.

Following that I took a 4-mile walk back home, checking out a few new-to-me shops along the way and just generally enjoying the sunny (if wildly windy) day.

P.S. On Dan’s last bicycle adventure he took a road bike, and ever since he has been itching to take the mountain bike out. Apparently there are pump tracks not even a mile from our house. In Cincinnati, mountain bike trips were a whole to-do, requiring intensive planning and furtive prayers to weather gods. Here, a decent ride is about as easy as checking the mail.





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