We live in town, but our house is on a dirt road. There are chic, high-heeled-shoe boutiques and western boot outlets. Some of our recycling is picked up at the house; the rest we drive way out of town (farther than Tunnel Road?). In theory it's permissible to ride one's horse downtown around the plaza. Posh restaurants abound. The museums attract aficionadi from around the world, and international art fairs draw gallery curators of note. The food is both on the cutting edge of culinary modernism and solid, traditional corn, beans, squash. And there are no fines at the public library.
It's a funny mix: excitement and melancholy.
Still haven't found a horse to ride.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
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