Adieu

I cut my finger on a new knife. Not even using it, mind you, just washing the danged thing in the sink. Now there's a fairy princess Bandaid on my left index finger, right at the tip; makes it quite awkward to type. Obviously I'm soldiering on.
This blog may be near its natural end. Topic and timing are converging on that cliff where Thelma and Louise looked at each other and agreed on the abyss.
New direction, new expression.
Sayonara.

Boots Again!

Hey, it snowed last night! Looks like a good 4 inches. Too cold and icy for horse-driving, which had been on the schedule. We're off to the farmers market now to buy yak meat for the animals. Really. Then it's looking for soccer socks for M, who is playing indoor soccer with her colleagues this evening. Wowee. We should buy some ankle tape, too.

Let's Do the Time Warp Again

And again and again. When was the last time you thought of these musicians?

Lynyrd Skynyrd, ZZ Top, Robert Palmer, The Cars, BTO

I get to hear them every day in New Mexico! Takes you back a bit. Thankfully there's one (1) station that is firmly in the 21st century and in tune with something close to the cutting edge. So there's variety! Oh, and the English Beat was supposed to play here in December, but they never showed because they were snowed in on the east coast. Big relief for those of us without tickets.

2009 soldiers on. We've been invited to a gala Inaugural Ball (here in SFE) on the 20th, location to be determined...what could that mean? At least much of the snow has receded so one can wear the necessary heels.

When there was oodles of snow, just before Xmas, my little truck got a tad stuck in the snow in our driveway and I had to tuck some rebar under the back wheels for traction. See photos.












Quite something! Bodkin would practically disappear in the drifts. Her clearance is pretty low.

Thinking of the Hukilau tonight. Wonder where you all are?

Down the Road

The road to go down is now icy, slushy, treacherous. The little black pickup has tube-sand in the bed to ballast the rear wheels on ice & snow. The manual transmission is oh-so-useful when negotiating iffy roads. Most important, there is a little ristra hanging from the grill in homage to the northern New Mexico winter.
Little birds of hardiness visit our seed buffet on the portal. They are importunate, and we throw additional handsful of seeds out onto the snow, where they descend en masse and partake. Yesterday a miracle yellow-jacket somehow, some way found its way into the sitting room and buzzed around, arousing the curiosity of dog and human alike. It was found, gently nudged into a jar, given sugar water and tucked into the pantry to await the sun on the morrow. Strict instructions were given to release it only at midday when the sun was warmest (a relative concept in the depth of winter). Well, today at midday there was a fierce little snowstorm, so no go at lunchtime for the yellow-jacket. Tomorrow may restore it into nature.
Saturday, day after tomorrow, is the shortest day of the year. High hopes for the miracle winter yellow-jacket to find its way.
Stay tuned for posts on George Orwell: one's latest trend in reading, beyond Animal Farm and 1984, preceding them, actually. Has that whetted your appetite?

Not Too Shabby

A day to remember, without a doubt. And not just because I have a new truck. Nor just because it is Guy Fawkes Day in the UK (and Muir Beach). Remember, remember the 5th of November: gunpowder, treason and plot. Because we did something that put us back on the good side of history. You know what I mean. For someone who can really express all this read Mark Morford on sfgate.com. I defer to his sinuous prose.
Now...the truck! 96 Ford Ranger, 5-speed. My better half has an interim position that takes her a little way north of here to what we refer to as the Marin of Santa Fe (it's really Tesuque), and the Vespa is retired for the winter, so I got to get transport for around town. One toyed with the idea of an old British sports car, but cold reality gripped me and shook me: too low-slung for the terrain around here. Dang. So, of course, the next thing anyone would turn to is a little truck, no? The hay bale just appeared in the back yesterday afternoon — not my idea, but funny. Guess whose idea that was.

Cold today with a wall-to-wall carpet of gold leaves all over the ground from the aspens disrobing. November is such a great month, finally, again, not a month of more disappointment and cynicism. Oops — back on politics! Just can't help it now!

Now off to work to make the world safe for local foods. Thinking of all of you.

First Fire

This is where I go driving now. Can you stand it? It's about 1.5 hours north of here, beyond Ghost Ranch, and another 1000 ft. in elevation. No longer high desert. High something else for the girl from sea level. Ponderosa pines abound. And water! Saturday I drove two different horses, sire and offspring. Very interesting. They look very similar, and it was both instructive and exhilarating — fun pleasure drives along the country roads and concentrated, intricate maneuvers while training in the fields. Wish I could do that every other day. It takes me away from everything, keeps the concentration completely in the moment. Time passes so fast and so satisfyingly.
Sunday saw a fall rain, unusual here, and the temp dropped quite a bit. So of course I had to light the first fire of the season. Read and knit by the fire listening to a CD: The Thirty-Nine Steps. Very different from the movie. For once I like the movie better. And how cozy it was to listen to a book, feel the fire's warmth and knit away. It's time I finished this sweater: made of NM organic yarn I buy at the farmers market, it's for Marg. The shepherd I buy from is most anxious to see the product; so is M.
There is a sweet feral kitty who has adopted my office and the restaurant next door. She has been pretty well tamed by one of the guys there (I really must do an entire post on the restaurant next door — they are extra fab neighbors) who preps during the day. She is the noisiest, most vocal non-Siamese I've ever known. We all feed her and talk to her and are planning a warm nest for her for the winter. And we all have different names for her, of course. An office kitty is just The Best.

ID Needed

Just over a year ago there was a Pretty Darn Fun Party held on Vicente and 48th. Many very sweet gifts were given to me, amongst which is this little wooden version of Athena's mascot. I love it very much and to this day do not know who gave it to me. It is very tempting to blame a certain Tommy K., who had what he thought was a Very Cute Time playing around with the gift cards after quaffing much D.P. I love him anyway. So if anyone out there recognizes this or, indeed, is the donor, please get in touch. It is quite a cherished possession.

We are rather work-oriented this Sunday, but books in the garden is the imminent activity. Soup is on the stove (Soup Sunday!). We ought to visit the library, which reminds me: spelling bee at the SFePL on Sunday 28 September. Prize is $200! You-can-guess-who is already spending the prize money she is convinced I'll win for her. Charming & flattering. But then, I did best certain high-ranking SFDSers a year or two back. And this one is written — can you stand it?