afternoon

it was a hammock kind of afternoon. hot in the sun, warm in the shade. breezes & the acequia rolling by. I managed to read one short story by mr. steinbeck, the chrysanthemums, before my eyes got too heavy. and then d joined me for awhile. (and hammocks are more fun when shared.) 

friday

just some pictures on a friday. mis flores.  next year I'll plant even more. 

as august ends

we took this picture, back in early July, because I wanted to show how tall the sunflowers had gotten. (I'd asked that my stretched-out sweatpants not be in the picture, but...)
the picture makes me smile, because I appear to be in conversation with the sunflower, clutching my hands in some expression of sincerity. I believe what was truly happening, was that I was timidly checking out a huge bumblebee which had dug itself into the sunflower's petals.

in these last days of corporate responsibility, I have little to do. so this morning i'm drinking coffee, watching the news and updating my blog. but I can already tell, that without some productive goals in my day, unemployment is going to make me feel like a slug. I got the floors clean yesterday, maybe today it will be the windows. and next week I'll see if our little library needs any help shelving books.

I should be sewing. but my machine is in the shop. I have a million little & big things to do for the TaosFolk 2013 show. it has driven me anxious this week, with all the sewing I have piled up, but with no machine. I'm sure this is some test of patience. I'm trying to pass the test. but fingers crossed, the Singer will be ready for pick up today.

gavilan walk

a bit ago, on a Sunday morning, we took a walk up the Gavilan trail, which I hadn't been on before. Gavilan is spanish for "hawk", and is supposed to indicate the steepness of the walk. since we only had an hour, we didn't get too far up.

but on the way, we looked for raspberries (but sadly, they were not fruiting yet, so we only found two). found an old mine shaft, which looked like a great spot for a bear--so I didn't really want to get too close. the whole area was once mined for gold & copper. I got entirely distracted looking through the mine trailings, and picking up magnetite (magnetic rocks!), copper-red rock chunks, and quartz covered in turquoise oxidation.

and there were trees, and wildflowers. and sunshine.

i'm on a monday of my last week of work. next monday i'll be wondering what to do next. saying goodbye to this job of seven years basically means boxing up a computer & cell phone, deleted years of files and no longer feeling obligated to a boss i'll never meet in an office I'll never see in a division that tore apart my team, and made me feel overlooked, unappreciated and, sort of lost without ties. so, i'll be better without this job. the only thing to suffer will be my bank account, and that, is just something to work on.

august garden

some garden pictures from august. 

our tomatoes towering over d as he does some weeding. and the once blooming to slowly tipping over, yellowing sunflowers, flowering cilantro long-gone to seed, bushy happy green beans, and the basil which doesn't seem to decrease, no matter how many armfuls I pick. and though the cosmos are fading, I'm still picking plenty of colorful zinnia bouquets. the tomatoes are ripening fast now, and we have a batch of sauce in the freezer, and ate a batch on spaghetti (with fresh bell peppers) last night. we have more sauce to come. I'm eating handfuls of cherry tomatoes every day, and having to give some away too. 

the monsoons have become less frequent. and the afternoons hot. though today a rain did come through. which gave the garden some happy relief. 

these are the pictures I'll look at again in february when I need something green & warm to look forward too. 

sunday picking

picked a lovely bounty this morning. the basil is overwhelming. and I'm freezing for winter months, when the green taste of basil will be appreciated. 

have been eating green beans for days. those might get frozen too, for some winter soup.

the cherry tomatoes are all mine, as d., does not care for them. (it makes me sad that he misses out on the sweetness of them)

quite happy that I have this garden, that is doing so well. it gives me a little bit of peace & satisfaction every day. 

today my newton friends are having our annual garden tour. we brave the heat & bicycle around town, visiting our friend's yards, eating and drinking as we go. always a wonderful afternoon. one that makes you go to bed early. am sad to be missing it. and have thoughts of making a special trip for it next year. 

friday

The sky was as full of motion and change as the desert beneath it was monotonous and still, — and there was so much sky, more than at sea, more than anywhere else in the world. The plain was there, under one’s feet, but what one saw when one looked about was that brilliant blue world of stinging air and moving cloud. Even the mountains were mere ant-hills under it. Elsewhere the sky is the roof of the world; but here the earth was the floor of the sky. The landscape one longed for when one was away, the thing all about one, the world one actually lived in, was the sky, the sky!

–Willa Cather's New Mexican sky, Death Comes for the Archbishop,1927

familia

my brother, sis-in-law and two little ones were able to visit us at the end of July. for all my worrying about what events to plan, we had plenty to do and plenty of time to do nothing much at all.  we went for walks, played in the acequia, ate new mexican food, made pancakes, & had late-night chats. 

we also took a swim in the Rio Grande. the water was chilly, and the sun hid behind the clouds often. mostly we just waded in up to our knees, or sat on huge, warm rocks. but little A., didn't mind any of it. she just jumped in and paddled around that river. 

took a walk through the Rio Hondo, which is just a short walk away from the house. lovely to watch & listen to their voices with all the green and the burbling water. 

walked up our trail a short bit. just up the mountain to the first huge cluster of boulders. the kids had to navigate a little rock climbing. and there we saw ancient petroglyphs painted on the rock, and the view of our valley. we could point out our house, as well as the mountains far away. 

we stopped in to visit the Bent Street museum, which is just near the Plaza. I hadn't visited yet. And knowing my brother & I's mutual fascination with the history of the West, had hoped this would be my chance. It is tiny, dusty, crowded with historic memories and most things aren't labelled. those that are, in handwritten or typed script, on yellowed paper. 

up past Seco, we stopped for a short walk through the trees, to a cave. and surprising me, even the kids wanted to climb up to it. 

on our last afternoon, a trip up to the Ski Valley. to see the tallest trees and smell the pine-y air. stopped for a german pint, and the kids, for ice cream. and enjoyed the late afternoon sun, as the storm clouds began to pile up over the peaks. 

overall, now all of my family has seen our home. the air & the mountains around us. and it feels better knowing they have a sense of this new place. and I got to have their voices, laughing, in our house. so it feels more like home. it was good to be able to share this with them. and in the moments of sadness, when missing them was more powerful than actually having them in front of me, I just had to remind myself that this is the chapter in life for now. and our time-together moments will be enough to carry me through. 

they told us they think it is beautiful here, and they loved it. and sounds like they want to visit again. and now, for me,  they don't feel quite as far away as they did before they came. 

las floras

living with flowers is a wonderful thing. 

friday

enjoying photos on the National Geographic Found tumblr page. This is a collection of photos from the archives, 125 years worth. And it is a little mesmerizing.

(top to bottom)

-a young woman admires flowers in a Baden garden in Germany, June 1928

-people sunbathe and boat on reservoir water in Red Rock Canyon in Kansas, April 1952

-an informal group portrait of Amish children in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, 1937

-a trainer controls a flock of flamingos for photo opportunities in Nassau, Bahama Islands, 1957

-a herd of 2,400 buffalo roam free near Gillette, Wyoming, December 1979

catching up

the sunflowers fading. dropping with heavy heads. 

a sunset that seemed unusually orange, just before the sky fell dark.

morning rises over our mountains.

hot air balloons in the blue clouds.

no longer allowed to roam outside (i'm preventing her from being snatched by a coyote, bear, or mountain lion) she makes her way around all the windows.  

didn't mean to neglect this little blog over the past two weeks. sometimes forget that this is relationship that depends entirely upon me, and without my efforts, will just sit still & be unable to move forward.

so here are a few pictures from the past two weeks. and i'll be back tomorrow.