found this bloom today. cheery.
seriously, how does it know it is christmas time?

baked all the cookies.
cleaned the house.
got through a week of work.
and now i'm waiting for new mexico to get here. and every time I hear a car door, I get up to look.
so i'm not sitting still.


some dusty snow. helping the outdoors look as cold as it was.

tis the time of year to wish I had a wood-burning fire to keep warm by.
and to enjoy warm wool and hot cups of coffee. having reasons to warm up the oven and bake.

and I loved this shelf of winking & smiling santas.

I think I'm done with finding presents. so now I can just try and appreciate the sentiment of the season. a time to gather & a time to give. with hopefully little drama & chaos.


sunny walk on thanksgiving day.
along a trail supposedly on ancestral pueblo ruins.
we decided it might be a government farce.
but the firs, juniper & pinon trees were beautiful.
and I found a few pine cones.

when a kid, around this time of year, my mom would suggest my brother & I find holiday decorations by taking walk around the farm. that may be why I'm still looking for pinecones.

my thanks are for a family that have given me a lifetime of always knowing I am loved. for the friends that smile when they see me. for the joy of a niece & nephew. for the luck of having two places with wide open spaces, one framed by mountains, that both feel like home. and for a kansas-born new mexican who loves to take these walks with me.



a morning mile hike took us to Posi-Ouinge, once a large Pueblo settlement. It was lived in & left behind before the 16th century. on a desert cliff, overlooking a creek. with soothing hot springs waters nearby.

now we walk on large mounds of soft, sifted dirt, which were once 3-story homes housing thousands of people.

and the pottery remains are just damn everywhere.

fortunately the two of us share an ability to spend amazing amounts of time looking & finding. the possibilities of history filling our minds.

and like so many of us before, we left all of the found treasures behind. since they are not ours to take.  and they are left in groups. sorted, displayed & treasured.


I now prefer to travel by sleeper car. if only it were as cheap as coach.

remnant of a home with solitude. before roads.

and a sunny walk before lunch. on desert walked on by others for a thousand years.


six now

though sometimes I miss that chubby little baby to hold in my arms.
most of the time, I'm amazed at how he grows, runs, laughs,
explores & uses the words he's learning to read.


All Hallows

my lovingly carved pumpkin

my lovingly scary nephew

All Hallows
by Louise Gluck

Even now this landscape is assembling.
The hills darken. The oxen
sleep in their blue yoke,
the fields having been
picked clean, the sheaves
bound evenly and piled at the roadside
among cinquefoil, as the toothed moon rises:

This is the barrenness
of harvest or pestilence.
And the wife leaning out the window
with her hand extended, as in payment,
and the seeds
distinct, gold, calling
Come here 
Come here, little one

And the soul creeps out of the tree.


i took a few pictures this weekend too.

found this that I like, a little bit of a poem
by Bobbi Katz, October:

October is
when night guzzles up
the orange sherbet sunset
and sends the day
to bed
before supper


in his viewfinder

today I spent some time at the farm. mom & I cleaned up & organized the garage/garden storage. we brought in plants & swept up drifts of leaves & peacock feathers. while my niece collected feathers, my nephew needed to explore. so I handed him my camera, showed him how to use it & told him to be careful with it.

I didn't look at the photos until now. the barn above & the pix below are his creations. they all make me smile.



last night was the first freeze. tonight is the next.

so I picked the few zinnias still blooming. and my last handful of basil.

this is the time of year when things begin to slow down. and remember where the warm places are.


before I left, a new season started rolling in.

he came home from work late one night, coming inside saying, "you have to just see this!"

and so I threw on my jacket and stepped outside, forgetting shoes. and falling from the nighttime stars were huge, sloppy, soft flakes of snow. it was beautiful.

the next morning in the sunlight it all fell from the trees. looking like glitter.

I love that this will be my second Fall in New Mexico.

we bought locally grown Yellow Delicious apples from a farmer wearing a mustache & a cowboy hat. they were crisp & sweet. he told us to take a few "rejects" from the box on the ground too. so later I cut out the bruises, chopped up the good pieces, soaked them in cinnamon & sugar, and threw little piles in between layers of pastry dough. then covered in a sugary glaze, they were definitely worth that morning stroll to the farmer's market.


and, october.

cute, but nervous, pygmy goats at the wool festival.

beautiful wool in many shades of grey. from a farm in colorado.
didn't buy any wool. but bought things made from it.

Fall is in New Mexico. a view over the fence in the adobe's yard.

a very dark night. & walking into a warm home.


our middle september

campfire nights.
one or two rainy mornings.
perfect afternoon naps.
cooking big meals.
taking walks under the cottonwood & walnut trees, listening to bluegrass everywhere we went.
a memorable biscuits & gravy breakfast as the sky cleared.
on our last night, storms scared us enough to send home the kids.
but all was quiet.

one more winfield.

also, it was one year ago that little Fitz died. and I came home from the vet so sad. only to find an email from one of my favorite men finally asking me to visit him. and then started my new love in new mexico.


all set up

a lovely sunday morning at our campsite in the hollow.
and our still clean & organized kitchen area.

looking forward to campfire nights.
and long days under the walnut trees with friends.

but first today, work to finish.


away heat.

the heat faded. a magical cold front came through last night.
and we are all relieved.

my lawn is dead, and so are many things I so eagerly planted this past Spring.
but my geraniums are doing fine.

windows are open & the breeze is crisp.

feels like it is about time to go camping for a week on the Walnut.


sunday in august

in one small way, taking place in the season changing. 
gathering summer's basil. freezing it for winter months.
and making pesto for enjoyment now.

and recently this has become a favorite spot, for both of us.
though while she naps, I imagine & sew.

keeping busy to help the time pass into september.
in less than two weeks I get to see my slim man again.
& then we'll go to winfield.
where so many of our favorite people will also be.


here & there

zinnias in kansas.

hollyhocks in new mexico.

starting lists for winfield. hearing crickets in the morning. trees exhausted from heat dropping leaves. noticing how the afternoon light is becoming more hazy. all signs that summer is near end.

i'm looking forward to Fall.


a peak view

picture taken & then sent to me yesterday.

a pretty reminder.