this luna's loca

Cloudy Mornin'

2009-09-29T19:44:00.005-05:00

Clouds were laying closer to the ground as the sun started coming up this morning. It was spooky and surreal.

*sigh*

Distractions while driving

2009-09-26T18:18:00.003-05:00

Oh yeah, driving to work every morning could be really boring ... if it weren't for the scenery. Those gorgeous sunrises! They make me wish I'd carry a camera every morning.

And the past couple of weeks the sunrises have been particularly spectacular, as you can see.

Labor Day Weekend Fun

2009-09-13T13:42:00.010-05:00

How do the days go by so darn fast? Even my son, who's 30, complains about time slipping away. When I told him it gets worse as the years tick by, he asked me if I use my clock for a fan. Not a bad idea ...

Mindy came to visit for Labor Day weekend (last weekend). When we have visitors we get to do so many fun things that we don't seem to have time for when it's just us. Chores and everyday life get in the way while we're thinking, "Oh well, we can always do that later." But it usually doesn't happen.

While Mindy was here we got to spend a whole day in the park with Mr. Wizard as our chauffeur. Weather was cooperative all weekend: cool nights and breezy, warm days. So it was great!

Here are some photos from our adventures. Enjoy! (We did!)

We watched Friday night's full moon rise over the Chisos Mountains as we sat on the Porch in the ghost town with friends and tourists.

Then we had dinner and listened to live music at the Starlight Theatre.

Saturday morning we drove the river road from Lajitas to Presidio and crossed over into Ojinaga. First order of business was lunch at Las Cazuelas: chilis relleno, barbacoa, cheesy enchiladas, guacamole ... good stuff!

Then to our favorite bakery for bolillos.

The employees there were busy making the next batch to bake in the giant wood-fired ovens. If we hadn't just eaten, the ones we bought would have never made it back home.

We spent the day Sunday in the national park. Mr. Wizard obliged us by stopping when we wanted to shoot some photos or do a little hiking.

Clouds were hanging over the Chisos Basin.

It was beautiful and eerie, like something out of a Lord of the Rings movie.

Then we headed over to Sotol Vista. Visibility wasn't great, but it was nice and coolish, and we pretty much had the place to ourselves for about 15 minutes.

Our next stop was Santa Elena Canyon, but we couldn't hike in because Terlingua Creek was way up, thanks to the rains the three days previous.

Castolon Peak, looking toward Terlingua.

We had so much fun!
And Mr. W had his own fun while we were exploring.

Moonrise Lightshow

2009-08-23T15:32:00.010-05:00

We really enjoy watching the full moon rise. Long before it makes its appearance, there's an other-worldly glow behind the mountains.

Sometimes we can see the glow nearly an hour before the actual moonrise.

The first moonrise we watched at Lunaloca actually took our breath away. We had no idea it would be so spectacular.

We watched the glow grow ... and grow brighter and brighter.

The moon took her sweet time to come up, but the wait was well worth it--an almost religious experience.

The first flash of the full moon was almost blinding, like a laser light shooting right at us.

That's when we decided to name our place Lunaloca. Because it was crazy. Beautiful crazy!

We didn't realize it until several full moons later, but when we watch the full moon rise from the ghost town, we can drive back home to Lunaloca. And then watch it rise again.

Yup. Life is good.

A backyard morning stroll

2009-08-02T13:33:00.005-05:00

Another inch of rain last night, slow and steady. The desert smells delicious!

hail

2009-08-01T13:01:00.003-05:00

The big rain cloud ahead didn't look extraordinary, so I plowed right into it on my way home from Alpine late Thursday afternoon.

Big mistake.

By the time it started hailing, it was too late to turn around, so I just kept plowing. Very slowly, until I came up on a car that had pulled over. I pulled in behind it to wait out the storm and take a few pictures.

Most of the hail was pea-sized, but there were some larger chunks mixed in. A very few were as large as softballs. They sounded like cannons when they hit the car.

After waiting 25 minutes and no sign of it slacking off, I started inching my way home.

Scary. Very scary!

Spooky sky

2009-07-25T08:49:00.002-05:00

Snapped these two photos in opposite directions the other night. The sun was setting with rain falling all around. It looked spooky and beautiful, and the wind blasts were actually chilly enough that I put on a sweater--in mid-summer!

We didn't get any rain at Lunaloca that night (July 20), but we've gotten some since.

The desert is still happy!

sentimental favorites

2009-07-20T21:42:00.004-05:00

Ocotillo green

2009-06-08T11:15:00.006-05:00

It gets still and humid sometimes while you watch the rain that's not headed your way, but it makes for a pretty photo, and you can see the green fluffy haze of ocotillo arms. The smell of rain was wonderful, and occasionally we heard thunder off in the distance.

Some of the ocotillo leaves are already starting to drop in places. Ocotillos can be so random--some leafed, some blooming, some dying, some bare--at nearly any time that isn't an extended drought; then their spiney arms are gray and bare. But right now, they're peaking green and looking fairly lush.

While we waited for the full moonrise last night I took lots of photos of a lovely sunset behind us:

I didn't take any shots of the full moonrise, though, because we were enjoying it au naturel (not naked, just without camera equipment!). It was beautiful--because it was cloudy, the moon glowed in shades of orange behind the mountains for a long time before it emerged. I do have some pretty good photos of moonrises from the past, but can't put my hand on them right now, so I'll post them later.

Coming Home

2009-05-29T19:36:00.005-05:00

Lunaloca is inside those mountains.

And it's Friday.

...

Bliss

2009-05-19T08:57:00.006-05:00

I get lots of emails from all over--friends, former coworkers, relatives, neighbors and the usual spam. This morning I read a short, simple message, emailed by a beautiful friend and neighbor, that really puts things in their proper perspective, so I'm sharing it here:

Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that they have been robbed.

The fact is that most putts don't drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to be just people, most successful marriages required a high degree of mutual toleration, most jobs are more often dull than otherwise.

Life is like an old-time rail journey ... delays, side tracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.

Amen!

(This sunset happened on Mother's Day -- a beautiful gift, don't you think?)

Goddesses

2009-05-14T11:04:00.010-05:00

There are so many beautiful, smart, funny, sexy and STRONG women who live in the Terlingua area. One of them, Janet Sullivan, organized an annual Goddess Party years ago, and over the years the traditional May gathering at Janet's has become an almost magical, legendary event. Sadly, Janet passed away suddenly this past year, but her neighbor and good friend Elizabeth (pictured above) stepped up and carried the tradition on at her lovely home this past May 3. The event was open to all female residents and at its peak, there were about 50 lovely ladies in attendance. Endless laughter, most excellent music, fabulous food and catching up with each other were the order of the day. Of course, there were many tributes to Janet, who was dearly missed even though her presence was strongly felt.

This was my first Goddess Party and even now, nearly two weeks later, I am still smiling. What an amazing group of women! I am proud, honored and humbled to live among these strong, resilient ladies.

Here are some snapshots taken that day. I bet you can't look through them without smiling. Enjoy!

Martha will host next year's Goddess Party. I'm already counting the days!

Fun with cats

2009-04-18T16:18:00.009-05:00

Just a quick post to let you know, yes, I'm still alive and well.

Here's what my crazy cats have been up to lately:

They love to hunt almost as much as they love to bring their catches in the house.

After filling the bird feeder, I usually sling some birdseed in the driveway for the quail. Paco and Fredo spent a good four minutes picking out their favorite seed to eat. Crazy! Are cats supposed to eat grain? I don't know, but they seem to like it.

The prickly pear is in various stages of bloom.

The pomegranate tree is blooming as well, and starting lots of new pomegranates, which we are certainly looking forward to. I stopped counting at 50 blossoms and baby pomegranates. If most of the fruit sets and matures, it'll outdo itself from last year's harvest of 30-plus fruit. Yum.

Splash of color

2009-03-30T19:06:00.004-05:00

The pitaya started blooming early last week, little splashes of unbelievably bright magenta in the brown desert.

Not only are the pitaya's blooms gorgeous, the fruit to come is absolutely delicious and similar to strawberries in taste, only sweeter. Very yummy.

Right now, here and there, the desert hills and gullies are dotted with the bright blooms. The blooms don't last long, maybe a week or so, but while they do, we're enjoying the welcome spectacle.

Desert Rebirth

2009-03-15T16:45:00.006-05:00

What a beautiful day this last day of my abbreviated spring break has been! The sunshine has been wonderful today ... and the vegetation around here is responding to the warmer temps and recent rainfall.

The giant cow-tongue prickly pear that grows in our 'front' yard is sprouting all kinds of growth--soon to be red tunas and new plump pads.

The elongated pads are what gives this particular variety of prickly pear its unusual name. I had called it donkey-ear cactus until I was corrected by a longtime local.

Bees are buzzing around the mesquite that's covered with furry caterpillar-looking blooms. When the mesquite leafs out, spring is supposed to be well on its way.

And this is a lush, lovely orchid--not! It's a close-up of a cenizo bloom (see photo below). It's been awhile since our cenizo's flowered.

Cenizos typically bloom when the humidity's high. This past week we had three consecutive days of 100-percent humidity, a desert rarity.

And this lovely little red bud-like thingy will turn into a pomegranate after it flowers. Last year our scrawny little tree gave us a record 31 pomegranates. Yum! Another eight, close to the ground, went to the javelinas.

And the oleanders are starting to bud out, too. They always add a splash of color to the place, and, along with the pomegranate, attract hummingbirds. Although they're fascinated by them, the kitties are scared to death of hummingbirds.

Unfortunately, when the cottonwoods start sending out shoots, it means trimming time. These poor little guys don't stand a chance.

Brown Ocotillo Postcard

2009-03-14T19:44:00.012-05:00

After a six-month winter dry stretch, we got about an inch of slow drizzly rain this week. It took about 36 hours to fall, a nice little soaker in this last cold spell. Hope it's the last cold spell. I'm ready for hot weather.

The sun came out this afternoon--we grilled steak and potatoes--and we enjoyed the short-lived warmth today.

Here are a couple of shots looking south from our place, at two different times this afternoon. In a couple of weeks there will be a change of color when the ocotillo turns green and happy.

Cloud Cover

2009-03-11T19:22:00.003-05:00

It's been a cold, wet, windy day today, and when I looked outside this afternoon, there was a cloud canopy over our mountains.

Rain!

2009-03-11T11:29:00.005-05:00

It started sprinkling rain around dark last night. The smell of it coming was welcome and delicious!

It drizzled most of the night and now, at mid-day, it's still drizzling and getting cooler. We have rain in our forecast for the next day or so, and it seems like it's raining over most of the state. We sure needed it.

In the desert, the response to rain by some of the flora is almost instant. Leaves perk, cactus pads plump, fragrances ensue. It's like a miracle. Just wait a day or so and my ocotillo forest will be sporting green, just in time for St. Patrick's day.

The kitties are confused. The pet door to the outside is open, but they're not going out. Paco and Fredo tried it briefly, but they were back inside where it's warm and dry (and there's food) in no time. Then Fredo walked up, looked me straight in the eye and asked, "What's the deal with this wet stuff, anyway? Mom?"

No outside work will get done today, I can assure you. I have a talking kitty to contend with.

My Babies ... The Way They Were

2009-03-02T05:11:00.008-06:00

My oh my, how time flies! I found these old photos of my precious babies and just gazed at them for hours ... or maybe just lotsa minutes. It seems like my babies were this size just days ago sometimes ... and now they're ADULT children. What was it that John Lennon said? "Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans." And it's so true.

Just look at my boy's smile! Snow isn't something that happens often in southwest Texas, but in 1985 we had an amazing 11-inch snowfall. It was a magical event that made me wish I was a kid, too, just like mine. A cold, wet, happy kid.

When I asked him what he liked most about the snow, he quickly told me, "Oh, I like eating snow. No, wait, I like throwing snow. No, no, I like SLEDDING in the snow! Oh, Mom. You ask such silly questions!" And even though my 30-year-old boy now lives in sunny LA, he makes it a point to visit some snow, somewhere, every winter.

Now, talk about a happy kid. My happy girl has always had her own sense of style, and she's never been afraid to be different. Being herself just makes her happy. Here she's wearing the almost-too-small-and-very-worn dress from her very first stint as a flower girl in the wedding of one of my former students a couple of years earlier.

She had turned two a few weeks before the wedding, and I was a little nervous, afraid that she was too young to pull it off. But she marched down the aisle, meticulously dropping flower petals like a champ, and as I stood at the back of the church I finally relaxed.

What I hadn't realized, though, was that the church lights would be dimmed down to nothing mid-ceremony as the couple exchanged vows by candlelight. In the hush of the moment, with only the flickering candles illuminating the minister and wedding party, my girl's little-girl voice could be heard true and clear as she sang, "Happy birthday to me ... happy birthday to me. Happy birthday, dear Ash-a-lee ... happy birthday to me!"

I was mortified. Everyone laughed and applauded, though, and my girl got a big hug from a very gracious and amused laughing bride. And then the ceremony continued.

Aww ... and here she is again, this time being crowned Little Miss Sabinal, circa 1984. During the contest, as all the little hopefuls stood in line on the stage, my girl got sorta bored. She flopped down on her belly, propped her elbows to rest her precious little face in her hands, looked toward the judges with a big ol' grin, tilted her head, and WINKED. Needless to say, she was a shoo-in.

And, in case you're wondering, yes, she still suffers from terminal cuteness. And I mean that in a good way.

Next to his obligatory naked-in-the-bathtub photo, this is my very favorite shot of my boy. Would you just look at those beautiful blond curls?

Sigh.

All the magic of Christmas is in that sweet expression and hopeful look in his eyes. He'd been a shepherd in the nativity play that Christmas, circa 1980, and I have to say, he was a very good shepherd, too. Even at a tender age, my boy took the responsibility of being a shepherd quite seriously, even to the extent of keeping the other shepherds, a cousin in particular, from wandering off during the "boring parts" of the re-enactment.

When Santa Claus showed up in all his red and white ho-ho-ho splendor, my boy was enchanted and almost overwhelmed. Such reverence he had for the REAL Santa Claus! The children lined up, each ready to tell Santa what they wanted to find under the tree Christmas morning. But my boy, for the first and maybe only time in his life, was speechless, overcome by the mere presence of someone so magical and wonderful.

I remember having trouble focusing this shot because I was bawling like an idiot. But hey, I'd just given birth to his sister a couple of months earlier, so I'm claiming 'post-partum crazy' on that one. But I still tear up when I see this photo and remember such innocence.

And here we are, all three of us, at the county fair, maybe? I really don't remember where we were when this was taken. My boy's in the background; he'd apparently just run off to look at something more interesting than whoever it was pointing the camera at us. What a cute little butt he had. (Oh, how he's going to hate my saying that!) But more importantly, see how skinny I used to be?

Sigh.

Yup, that's the way we were. Hope you enjoyed the little memory lane stroll almost as much as I have.

Alpine Murals Long Gone

2009-03-01T09:53:00.002-06:00

It was so windy and cold that I spent a good chunk of yesterday afternoon looking for a couple of photos for a friend. He's asked and I'd promised (several times). It's taken so long to find them that I'm too embarrassed to show up in town until I have those *@# photos in my sweaty brown hands. As it turns out, I'd deleted them. Accidentally, of course, and that's another long story. Thankfully I'd uploaded them to a photo-service website, so I will at least be able to order prints for him. Whew--I will get to make good on my word after all.

Anyway, I didn't get much of anything else accomplished ... going through old photo files, for me anyway, can take on a life of its own. It's a time-consuming process, one that takes me down many memory lanes. Some memories are happy, others so painful that I couldn't even look at the photos, at least for now. Looking through archived photos turned out to be an emotionally draining process.

I saved some old favorites to my desktop, and I'll probably be posting some of them in the near future. In the meantime, here are some shots taken (circa 2003ish) of a couple of murals in Alpine that have been painted over since. Hope you enjoy a bit of Alpine's 'history' that's long gone now ...

Friday Night 'Lights'

2009-02-28T08:49:00.004-06:00

Mr. Wizard and I both made it home last night BEFORE dark--an amazing accomplishment on a 'school night.' Yay for us! The kitties were a tad confused, but very happy. They had stayed outside all day and just as the sun was setting, Paco managed to catch a field mouse in the maze of cane near the north end of our driveway.

It's hard for me to watch one of our cats kill a mouse. It can be a long, drawn-out affair while he plays with his trophy, allowing it to run a short distance away and then pouncing on it to catch it again. This goes on for awhile until the poor mouse is just too exhausted to play that game. Fortunately, last night Paco didn't play that long. He did manage to sneak the poor thing into the house through his pet door, and I chased him down and carried him, mouse in his mouth, back outside. He was so proud of himself.

After he'd eaten his kill and all the kitties were safely inside for the evening, I walked the perimeter of our yard to pick up scattered limbs and debris that had fallen or blown in during the week. And surprise! This is what I saw through the cane at the south end of our yard:

So I grabbed my little camera and snapped a few shots of the sunset. Only a few because the wind was picking up, bringing in a cool front that hit with a gale of winds that lasted all night. In fact, it's still blowing and it's mid-morning now as I write this.

We've had some beautiful sunsets and sunrises lately, thanks to the cloud formations, of course, and also because of the blowing dust in the air. It's awfully dry; we've had no rainfall since September, making this a more 'normal' desert year, complete with mandatory county-wide burn ban.

Because it's so dry and because Lunaloca is surrounded by a drip irrigation system that sustains our trees and plants, we've had many critters visiting of late, mostly javelina, deer and coyote. The past five nights, coyotes have serenaded us with their cacophonous yips and howls from just across the dry creek to the east. I love their enthusiastic sounds punctuating the quiet desert nights, but only when I know our kitties are safely indoors and out of their reach.

In this last shot, if you squint, you might be able to make out the crescent moon high in the sky.

If this shot had sound effects, you'd hear the wind howling and roaring, bringing chaos to Lunaloca and the Christmas Mountains.

Reality

2009-02-15T12:25:00.004-06:00

It's been awhile since I've posted to this blog. My road is paved with good intentions, and you know where that'll get me, right? But the sad truth is that while the rest of the country suffers an economic crisis, I am suffering a crisis of time management (or mismanagement) in the desert.

Since starting The New Job last month, I've been playing catch-up on the homefront. There just aren't enough hours in the day. You do the math: 12 hours devoted to The New Job (that includes the three-hour roundtrip commute), eight hours' sleep (if I'm lucky), one hour to get myself presentable/ready in the morning for The New Job (wouldn't be nice to scare the new coworkers, now would it?), and at least an hour to fix dinner, do dishes, maybe a load of laundry, and straighten the house a bit after I get home. That leaves two hours to do whatever I please ... if this were a perfect life.

Unfortunately, when those two free hours roll around (hmmm ... I don't recall having two free hours lately, but math is an exact science, so there should be two hours out there somewhere that I'm missing most days, right?), it's dark outside. That's a real bummer because my favorite things to do here at Lunaloca are outdoor activities: hiking, exploring, birdwatching, clearing brush, hauling rocks and gravel, raking leaves ("beautifying" the place), play hide-and-seek with the kitties, and photographing. These activities have come to a screeching halt since January 5. Mostly I've become trapped in a never-ending cycle of sleep, go to work, come home, eat and sleep again. I try not to think about this too hard or I'll end up the guest of honor at my own pity party.

Sigh.

And to top it all off, I feel guilty whining about the lack of daylight time at home when there are millions of Americans who have lost their jobs in the past six months, and more losing jobs (and investments) every passing day. And here I am, with a good job, whining.

Sigh.

But, the days are getting longer and the days are getting warmer and that lifts my spirits. In just a couple of months, the sun will be way up in the sky after I get home from work each day. By then (I hope), I will have adjusted to this new routine and carved out some free time to take advantage of the additional daylight time. And there will be photos! And happier kitties!

Until then, please hang tight. I'm working on that, too.

Bluebonnets and Big Cracks

2009-01-28T14:19:00.001-06:00

Early Sunday morning Mr. Wizard and I packed up coffee, water and zucchini bread (thank you, Annie!), and headed out to Big Bend National Park to explore and look for bluebonnets.

We drove down Old Maverick Road to Terlingua Abajo, an old farming settlement on Terlingua Creek just above the mouth of Santa Elena Canyon, hoping to spot some early bloomers there where we've found some in past years. No luck. So we headed westward on FM 170 (the River Road) from Study Butte past the ghost town and Lajitas and into Big Bend Ranch State Park.

Eureka! There were bluebonnets! Not many yet, and most of them were small and scraggly, but after I wandered off the road a ways near the hoodoos, I found a few that were close to two feet tall, but not many.

We haven't had any rainfall to speak of since September, so we were glad there were any at all. The flowers we did find were probably due to the Rio's September flood, when the roadside got a good soaking.

Long before we moved to the Big Bend, I came out here many Februarys just for the bluebonnets. I'm a sucker for 'em.

Along the River Road, there were other desert flowers blooming, too, welcome little splashes of color dotted an otherwise mostly brown and gold roadside, a reminder that we're presently under a burn ban.

And then as we were crossing Contrabando Creek just past the riverside movie set with its little buildings and facades, I shrieked, "Stop!" and Mr. W cheerfully obliged by pulling off the road. The cracks in the dried mud/sand below looked like a giant gray patchwork crazy quilt stretching down toward the Rio Grande.

I climbed down into the creekbed and the cracks in the dried mud were HUGE. And DEEP. I dropped a rock down a crack and heard it hit bottom way down there.

The cracks are impressive at this view, but even more so when I stuck my foot out for some perspective.

Okay, now you have a better idea of how scary it was to walk out on the creekbed. It felt almost like jumping from tiny island to island, or little iceberg to iceberg. It was a surreal feeling to stand in the middle of the creekbed, in the middle of a giant natural mosaic.

And while I stood there, feeling all overwhelmed and happy, I caught sight of a mountain lion making her way across the highway toward the river. Although I've seen many tracks in the three years I've lived in the Bend, I've not seen an actual mountain lion, so I was very, very excited. And even though my camera was in my hand, I never even thought about trying to snap a picture. I just stood there paralyzed by all the beauty around me and watched her (him?) disappear from sight. It was a magical moment.

Life is good.

'Round & 'Round & 'Round & 'Round the World

2009-01-21T22:21:00.002-06:00

Elvis the Element is a heckuva vehicle, the best and most fun automobile I've ever had. It's roomy, dependable, efficient and fun to drive. Mr. Wizard calls it my 'purse on wheels' because I stash all the items I can't live without (that are too big to fit in my teensy purse) in its confines. Need an umbrella? A flashlight (or three)? Toilet paper? Quilt? Bottle of water? Raincoat? Yup, these and many more items live inside Elvis.

A couple of weeks ago the Element's odometer reached a milestone: 111,111 miles. Yes, 111,111. Now I'm not all that swift at math, so bear with me, but according to my calculations (and if there were no Atlantic or Pacific oceans), I could have driven Elvis clear around the world--at the equator, no less--more than four times. Only, nearly every mile (except for the occasional trip into Ojinaga, Chihuahua, Mexico) driven was in Texas. It's a big ol' state. Whew, am I tired!

And except for human error (I'm lookin' at you, Mr. W!), Elvis has never been in the shop for repairs. We've had awfully good luck with the two Hondas we've owned, and odds are when Elvis finally bites the dust and goes to that big garage in the sky, we'll most likely consider another. Hmm, wonder if the Honda folks need us to do a testimonial?

So, when I say I'm in my element out here in the desert, I probably am. In my Element, that is.

Fridays

2009-01-16T22:49:00.002-06:00

There's just nothing like driving home from work on a Friday to make you optimistic and energetic. Especially when the weekend's wide open, and even more especially when it's a three-day weekend looming ahead.

Tomorrow I will drive 300-plus miles to El Paso to pick up Mr. Wizard who's been in Denver working at a trade show. Since his flight is due at 5 pm, mountain time, we made the executive decision to spend the night there so we can run some errands. The Element needs new tires and that tops my list of to-do's. It's nice to visit civilization once in a while, and even nicer to have access to 'luxuries' not found in the desert, like going to a movie, which we may just do. It's nice to have the drive home to think and plan and make a list; once I get home there are other things to think about: laundry, cats, dinner, put-off chores.

The 75-mile drive home from work passes quickly now that the days are getting longer. This past week I actually made it home around dusk, which is much nicer than getting there in the dark, like the previous week.

In my first two weeks of commuting I've seen many critters on or near the road: an elk (this really surprised me!), deer, javelinas, rabbits, eagles, coyotes and some kind of exotic antelope. They all remind me that I have to be vigilant, because sometimes they aren't, and I sure don't want to run over or into anything on the commute. The miles of wear and tear on my vehicle are damage enough.

Lunaloca is 4 miles off the paved road, and those 4 miles are the slowest and most beautiful of the whole drive home. I snapped this shot of mountain 'layers' at the top of a rise, looking westward, before I head into our valley where three hungry kitties are waiting at the door.

Tonight's Sunset

2009-01-10T22:13:00.003-06:00

New Year, New Job

2009-01-10T14:39:00.011-06:00

Southbound Highway 118 stretches toward the Christmas Mountains and home. Sorry about the bud-speckled view ...

The frequency of my posts will probably slow down, now that I've started a new job. The gig's at Sul Ross State University in Alpine. It's a 75-mile (one way) commute from my driveway to the SRSU main campus parking lot, so my day-to-day schedule has taken a drastic turn. I can see already that many, maybe most, chores will have to wait for the weekends.

The long commute's not bad, what with the great scenery and all. But it's not good, either; it's three hours of every weekday, and even though mine is usually the only car on the road, there are frequent javelina and deer sightings so I maintain a constant vigil for kamikaze critters.

The best part about the commute is getting to watch the sun rise and the sun set. Both events are usually glorious out here.

Of course, the kitties are very, very confused by this new routine, and they're very, very glad to see me when I get back home again.

A 'drive-by' shot east toward Nine Point Mesa, about 20 miles north of Study Butte. If you look closely you can see the nearly full moon shining through the clouds.

Bears in the Bend

2009-01-06T11:55:00.003-06:00

Friends from the outside world (outside of the Big Bend area, that is) often ask me if I've seen any bears near our place. The truth is that not only have I found no evidence of bears near Lunaloca, I haven't even seen any black bears in the national park, where there are infrequent sightings. Not that I want to see a bear, mind you. I'm perfectly happy just knowing they're out there, somewhere.

But in the park, particularly in the Chisos, there are plenty of warning signs, and metal bear boxes are located throughout the campground for campers to stash their edibles or whatever bears like to get into. Actually, I think other critters are more of a problem when it comes to campsite 'vandals' of the four- and two-legged variety.

But this morning I happened across a blog entry at Desert USA with some interesting information and good common-sensical advice, especially if you're planning to camp or hike in the national park or anywhere in the adjacent area:

A black bear destroyed 2 unoccupied tents in the Colima Canyon area of the High Chisos (above 7,000 feet) in late December. This occurred in a solitary high mountain backcountry campsite, not in the Chisos Basin campground.

According to the campers, they had not left any food in the tents. Apparently it was the smell of the shoes that attracted the bear. The bear crushed both tents, ripping the fabric to get at the shoes. When the campers returned to their site, they found that one shoe was removed from the tent, chewed on, and dropped 20 feet down the trail.

When leaving a site for a hike, please put scented items in the bear boxes. Shoes and boots might be best left outside of tents so that if a bear is curious about that particular odor, they can smell the shoe and move on. The bear destroyed the tent because it smelled something in the tent and investigated. The fabric was an incidental obstacle between them and what they want to check out. Bears don’t realize that tents cost people money, nor do bears have an understanding of private property, they are just innocently doing what they have done for millenia…act like bears. Remember that bears have a much better sense of smell than humans, so while we can’t smell some things, they can. Do your best to think like a bear as you secure your belongings.

It is advised that campers flatten tents while on a day hike away from a High Chisos site to lessen the chance of property destruction.

Black bears have been feeding in October and November near backpacking campsites in the Chisos Mountains This year much of their natural food sources was concentrated along moist drainages and north facing slopes. Hiking trails pass through these feeding grounds. This caused an increase in the frequency of hikers reporting bear sightings.

Because of our traditionally non-threatening behavior toward them, bears have largely lost their normal caution and fear of humans. The unfortunate consequence is that the bear may develop a taste for items we bring with us and try to intimidate us so they can get at our food, which can cause injury to people.

Campsites Reopened
Due to the decrease in bear sightings starting in late November, the campsites at Colima Canyon, Boot Canyon, Emory Peak and Toll Mountain have been reopened to camping for the time being. If incidents with bears increase, closures may be reinstituted and additional measures taken to discourage bears from entering sites.

No visitor has ever been attacked by a bear at Big Bend National Park. There have been a few instances this year of bears mock-charging visitors, growling, or stomping their feet when people approach or surprise them. Read further for bear discouragement techniques.

What might occur if bears develop a taste for human food is injuries to hikers if a bear wants what a person is carrying, or if a person gets between the bear and food, or property damage to tents. This will only come to pass if visitors are reckless in how they take care of the items they bring that might attract bears. This includes food, soaps, items with odors like lip balm, even trash and dirty dishes not properly secured.

The NPS is asking hikers and campers to please follow the following guidelines if encountering bears.

1) You should not linger near or approach bears if they are feeding naturally or in a tree. Give the bears room and go around them. This is their home and we are guests in this park.

2) If the bear is lingering at your camp, or if the bear intentionally approaches you or anyone in your group, it is recommended that you run the bear off by making noise and throwing rocks/sticks toward it. Do not do things to make the bear mad like hitting it with sticks or rocks, charging the bear, or any aggressive act. Do not run away either. Be assertive. The goal is for bears to remember to be wary of us.

3) Hikers should not leave packs, food, trash, or any other attractants unattended at any time or for any reason. Bears that develop a taste for our food often become dangerous. The park’s bears have not become habituated to human food and we want to keep it that way. They should be eating grubs and pine nuts. This will prevent dangerous bear-visitor encounters. It would be a tragic loss if rangers had to track down and kill a bear that became dependent on our food and began to display aggresively foraging behavior.

4) If left outside of a bear box, make sure your pack is empty and that all attractants the bear can smell are in a bearproof storage container, including things like toothpaste, sunscreen, lip balm, water bottles, even canned foods. If you spilled food in your pack or you know it has odors that might attract a bear, store it in a bear-proof box. If it won’t fit, empty it entirely and leave all pockets unzipped and open.

5) Please report sightings, incidents (particularly bears that exhibit aggressive behavior), and any property damage to a ranger at the visitor center, including filling out a wildlife observation report at a visitor center.

New Year's Day in Terlingua

2009-01-02T12:36:00.005-06:00

Mr. Wizard's been under the weather this week. I told him to get a flu shot, but he's stubborn that way. But now, after this winter's bout with the flu, I think he may be reconsidering his decision; I bet he gets one this year. (This is another one of those times that I'd love to tell him, "I told you so," but my 2009 resolution is to be much nicer, so I'll give him a break, for now.)

We didn't go out for New Year's Eve; poor guy was sneezing and blowing and moaning and groaning. Actually, I'm exaggerating a bit, but just a bit. He really felt lousy.

We've spent at least five New Year celebrations in Terlingua, some before we moved here. It's always so much fun at the Starlight Theatre, one of my very favorite restaurants in the whole world!), and if it gets too crowded and claustophobic for us (you know how these big social events can get), we just wander down to the Boathouse, our usual ghost town hangout.

This year was different, and much much quieter. For one thing, Mr. W wasn't feeling well. And the other thing was that our friend Mindy wasn't here. This marks our first New Year's Eve in Terlingua without her, but she's had a very busy and strange year herself. I'm sure she'll be here next December 31st, when 2009 brings a full moon, and a blue one at that! We love full moons, and a blue one is just an extra-special treat.

But, yesterday, New Year's Day, Mr. W and I made the 12-mile trek into the ghost town to enjoy the day's activities. And what a day! A beautiful day, the temperature was in the low 70s--what a great first day of the year!

The photo up at the top was taken from The Porch, looking toward the Chisos Mountains in the National Park, one of our favorite views in the whole world. We watched the sunset backwards, facing east to watch the mountains turn colors--it's an amazing spectacle, one that should definitely make your 'bucket list' if you've never experienced it.

When we drove in, we were amazed that the ghost town was FULL of vehicles and people for the annual (black-eyed) Pea Off at The Porch. Lots and lots of people! Not only was there a record number of tourists present, the music of the Pinche Gringos kept them all there, dancing, singing and toe-tapping, the whole afternoon until well after the Pea Off ended.

We spent most of our time at friend Bryn's amazing studio/gallery, the Leapin' Lizard.

In the above photo, you can see Bessie the dog in front of Bryn's gallery. She is the owner of humans Bryn and John, two of our dearest friends. Of course, Bessie is one of our good friends, too! If the Leapin' Lizard looks a little familiar, it's because it used to be Diva Terlingua Gallery in another life ...

Along with some of the other ghost town business owners, Bryn hosted an open house on New Year's Day. We planned to visit the other places, too, but the food (oh my! what wonderful jalapeno poppers!) and company were so good at the Leapin' Lizard, we parked ourselves there and visited while chowing down. Oh yeh, and the beer was nice'n cold, too!
Here's Phil (or Felipe as he's sometimes called), one of Terlingua's frequent visitors, and Douglas, who lives way out on his Salvage Yard Ranch.

And here's Earl, our favorite beertender in the whole world, with Pablo, one of the nicest guys ever (and one of the funniest and brightest, too), and Felipe again, not looking very interested. I think he was tired of all the picture-taking, or maybe he'd just eaten one too many jalapeno poppers.

After we left Bryn's, we stopped by the Boathouse where we were humiliated after losing two straight games of pool to some visitors. So far this year, my pool shark record is 0-2, making me more of a pool flounder than a shark. Ah well, the year she is young.

Happy 2009!

Last Night's Sunset

2008-12-27T14:27:00.005-06:00

Yet another perk to living in the most beautiful spot on earth ...

See all the pointy things sticking up on the horizon? That's part of our ocotillo forest.

A Christmas Prayer from 1513

2008-12-25T09:33:00.005-06:00

In 1513, Fra Giovanni wrote a letter—what we’d now consider a Christmas card—to a friend and patron, containing a Christmas prayer. It's a wonderful sentiment and I thought you'd enjoy it as much as I do.

Fra Giovanni’s Christmas Prayer

I salute you! There is nothing I can give you which you have not; but there is much that, while I cannot give, you can take.

No heaven can come to us unless our hearts find rest in it today. Take Heaven.

No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in the present moment. Take Peace.

The gloom of the world is but a shadow; behind it, yet within our reach is joy. Take Joy!

And so, at this Christmas time, I greet you, with the prayer that for you, now and forever, the day breaks and the shadows flee away.

Happy Holidays

2008-12-24T10:11:00.003-06:00

Here’s hoping the fat guy in red brings you a special surprise this holiday season!

Thanks (or no thanks) to Mr. Wizard’s work schedule, we’ll be spending this Christmas at home with Hoodie, Fredo and Paco (the cats), although we did get in a quick trip to Austin last weekend and got to see our kids for a short time.

Mr. W and I wish you all a healthy and happy year ahead, and hope this year’s holiday makes memories as sweet as sugar plums! And please remember to drive safely and watch out for the other guy!

Click HERE for a delightful Santa phenomenon this year in New York City, about as far from the desert as you can get. If it doesn't get you in the Christmas spirit, then you need some more eggnog!

Flour Tortillas

2008-12-18T10:08:00.007-06:00

Learning how to make good (i.e., EDIBLE) flour tortillas was my new year's resolution for 2008. I know, I aim a little low ... or so I thought.

In my past endeavors, Mr. Wizard would try a bite or two and proclaim: "Too floury." or "Too doughy." or "Not enough salt." or "Too salty." etc., etc. But last night, miracle of miracles, he took a bite, then buttered it up and ate the whole thing. And after he was finished, he went back and got another one!

So after many, many tries, I am pleased to report that I think I finally got the recipe and ingredients right, and learned how long to let the dough rest before cooking them. I found that if you don't let the dough rest enough, they're nearly impossible to roll out--too elasticky. And they don't taste just right. It's a much finer art than I had anticipated.

You'd think after all this mixing and rolling that I could at least roll the little suckers into perfect round circles. Most of the time they're round enough, but there are still some that more closely resemble letters of the alphabet than circles ... I have the same problem with pie crusts. I'll have to keep practicing. And at least now that I've hit on the right recipe I can eat the mistakes. Past tries have lined my kitchen trash can, sad to say.

But now, if I'm not there yet, at least I'm on the road to success. Yum!

Mornin'!

2008-12-17T08:13:00.008-06:00

Brrr! It's cold at Lunaloca this morning. The porch thermometer reads 40 degrees, and that's on the porch where it's usually 5 to 10 degrees warmer in the cold months. No worries though, because the sun will warm things up, and this morning, what an entrance el sol made in our desert skies!

As soon as I caught a glimpse of the rosy sky outside, I grabbed the camera and snapped up these photos so I could share this beautiful morning sky with you.

I took lots of shots in a hurry. I was shivering and hadn't had my morning coffee yet, so I made it quick.

This morning's sunrise could be seen in every direction with pink and orange clouds everywhere. The photos below are the western and northern skies around 7 am.

It was like the proverbial rose-colored glasses; the brown winter desert was bathed in pink light. It was surreal and magical. And chilly.

The splendor stretched overhead, complementing the dwindling moon.

Good morning, sunshine!

And the water's fine!

2008-12-15T11:19:00.011-06:00

After months of preparation (it would have been weeks if we'd been younger, but oh well ...), the hot tub is installed, wired and full of water!

We filled it last night with water we trucked in from the ghost town. We didn't use our own well water because it's so full of minerals; we opted for the treated stuff instead to kind of jump-start the process. This tub is a two-seater and takes 200 gallons to fill it, so it took awhile to get all the water pumped in.

As soon as the tub was filled with water (and it was brrr cold water, too), Mr. Wizard checked the chemical balance and fine tuned it. We set the heater to 103 degrees, put the cover on, and hoped that by the following night (tonight), the water would be warm enough to enjoy.

This morning when we checked the water temperature, it was already 103 degrees. Yay! It didn't take us long to grab towels and bathrobes, shuck our clothes, grab some water (yes, we always drink plenty of water whilst soaking in hot water), pin up the hair, and climb right on in. It was heavenly! It was wonderful!

Of course, right away Mr. W's glasses fogged up ... and then there was that pesky rising sun shining right in our faces. We'd positioned the tub so that we could watch the moon rise. Unfortunately, in the early mornings, that's the very same position to watch the sun rise, too. (Note to self: grab sunglasses when enjoying a morning soak.)

Because we have no bathtub here at the Lunaloca, I have really been missing soaking in hot water since we've been here, especially during the colder months. Back in Austin, I would float in our hot tub at night and watch the few stars that are visible in the light pollution of the city. There's something very peaceful and therapeutic about floating in hot water, and I've certainly missed it.

Because of his lupus, Mr. W's missed it, too, but he misses the water-jet action that helps his legs and back. His medical condition is such that his doctor prescribed hot water therapy for him, and it really helps with the chronic pain and lack of mobility he suffers.

I don't care for the bubbling and noise; I'm just in it for the floating and soaking. As soon as he turns those water jets on, I'm out of there.

Of course, there are the hot springs in the national park just an hour's drive away, but that's an hour's drive away. And the Big Bend hot springs close at dark. And there's usually lots of other happy strangers soaking there, and they sometimes stare at my fat thighs, or at least that's what I imagine they sometimes do. I'm funny that way.

We're really looking forward to tonight's star-watching while soaking in the hot water. I saw a couple of falling stars last night, but it was too chilly to stay outside long. Tonight we should be toasty warm while enjoying the therapeutic effects of the warm water on our tired ol' bones!

Feast Day

2008-12-12T16:43:00.018-06:00

Today's the feast day of the Virgin of Guadalupe, my personal favorite feast day. It's really a holy day on several levels. Her story is sweet and a bit twisted and involves no martyrdom (at least, not hers); it's also the story of a meeting of two great and very different cultures.

The Virgin of Guadalupe, now a Catholic saint, is the protector of the unborn. Hers is the only sighting of the Holy Mother in the 'new world,' too, so it's no wonder that she is also the patron saint of the Americas. Since her appearance in 1531, she's been a strong symbol of security and hope in Mexico and beyond.

Here at Lunaloca, you'll see lots of her around, keeping an eye on things:

The appearance of the Virgin of Guadalupe in 1531 to Juan Diego on the hill of Tepeyac in what is now present-day Mexico City is an event that bridged the religious worlds of the Spanish conquerors and the Aztecs. It's also a great story of how an unfairly suppressed culture was able to 'reinstate' their most important goddess and her temple in a way that was actually embraced by the Christian Spaniards. Those Aztecs were pretty clever.

Photographer and former monk Martin Grey wrote a fascinating account of her sighting that includes most all of the pertinent details (www.sacredsites.com):

"... the hill of Tepeyac was a place of great sanctity long before the arrival of Christianity in the New World. In pre-Hispanic times, Tepeyac had been crowned with a temple dedicated to an Earth and fertility goddess called Tonantzin, the Mother of the Gods. Tonantzin, like the Christian Guadalupe who usurped her shrine, was a virgin goddess, also associated with the moon.

"The Tepeyac hill and shrine had been an important pilgrimage place for the nearby Aztec capital city of Tenochtitlan. Following the conquest of Tenochtitlan by Hernan Cortez in 1521, the shrine was demolished, and the native people were forbidden to make pilgrimages to the sacred hill. Such practices were considered by the Christians to be devil worship. This policy of labeling pagan religious practices as demonic already had a more than thousand-year history in Christian Europe.
"On Saturday, December 9, 1531, a baptized Aztec Indian named Juan Diego set out for church in a nearby town. Passing the pagan sacred hill of Tepeyac, he heard a voice calling to him. Climbing the hill, he saw on the summit a young woman who seemed to be no more than fourteen years old, standing in a golden mist. Revealing herself as the "ever-virgin Holy Mary, Mother of God" (so the Christian telling of the story goes), she told Juan Diego to go to the local bishop and tell him that she wished a church to be built on the hill. Juan did as he was instructed, but the bishop did not believe him. On his way home, Juan climbed the sacred hill and again saw the apparition, who told him to return to the bishop the next day. This time the bishop listened more attentively to Juan's message from Mary. He was still skeptical, however, and so asked for a sign from Mary.
"Two days later Juan went again to Tepeyac Hill and, meeting Mary, was told by her to climb the hill to the site of their first encounter, pick a bunch of roses that would be growing there, and return with the roses to Mary. Juan climbed the hill with misgivings. It was the dead of winter, and no roses could possibly be growing on the cold and frosty hill. But upon reaching the summit Juan found a profusion of roses, an armful of which he gathered and wrapped in his shawl to carry to Mary.
"Arranging the roses, Mary instructed Juan to take the shawl-encased bundle to the bishop, for this would be her sign. When the bishop unrolled the shawl, the presence of the roses was astounding. But truly miraculous was the image that had mysteriously appeared on the inside of Juan Diego's shawl. The image showed a young woman without child, her head lowered demurely. Wearing an open crown and flowing gown, she stood upon a half moon. Soon thereafter the bishop began construction of the church.
"News of the miraculous apparition of the Virgin's image on a peasant's shawl spread rapidly throughout Mexico. Indians by the thousands, learning that the mother of the Christian God had appeared to one of their own kind and spoken to him in his native language, came from hundreds of miles away to see the image, now hanging above the altar in the new church. The shrine, rebuilt several times over the centuries, is today a great basilica that has space for 10,000 pilgrims. Juan Diego's shawl is preserved behind bulletproof glass and hangs twenty-five feet above the main altar in the basilica. For more than 450 years the colors of the image have remained as bright as if they were painted yesterday, and the coarse-woven cactus cloth of the shawl, which seldom lasts more that twenty years, shows no evidence of decay."

The soft-spoken Virgin became a symbol of the fusion of the two cultures, Spanish and Aztec, into the country and culture of Mexico. She's sometimes called the black or dark madonna because she appeared as an Aztec and spoke in Nahuatl, their native language. Many Mexicans still refer to her as the "Little Mother."

So it's no coincidence that, in 1810, when Don Miguel Hidalgo called for an uprising which led to the independence of Mexico from Spain, he adopted her pennant as the first Mexican flag. While spending a month in Guanajuato this summer, my daily trek into town would take me by the corner where Father Hidalgo's head hung in a metal cage as a warning to all revolutionaries. The Spanish rule of Mexico was bloody and unjust and often unreasonably cruel. But I digress ... don't get me talking about Guanajuato and the Mexican revolution ...

More than 2 million people are expected to make the pilgimage to the Shrine of Guadalupe on Tepeyac Hill this year, but they are not the only pilgrims, just the luckiest. All over the world, people will be honoring her, and not just good Catholics. I read this morning that more than 20,000 people will attend services at Dallas' Cathedral Shrine of the Virgin of Guadalupe where the cathedral is decorated with hundreds of roses.

And in other news, shame shame! Playboy magazine has issued an apology for its recent cover photograph of a nude Virgin of Guadalupe. The issue was released only in Mexico, where I'm sure it offended some of its regular readers. Click here for that story.

Here in Terlingua, prayers to her will be said and requests made as the full moon, the biggest and last one of this year, rises over the desert mountains on this crisp, chilly evening.

Creative 'Getting'

2008-12-06T11:16:00.006-06:00

Her: You know, I'd really like some Rosie's Overalls. I think I'll order some.

He: What?

Her: Some overalls to wear around the house while I'm working on stuff.

He: What's this 'Rosie' stuff then? I thought you said 'Rosie overalls.' That's what you said, right?

Her: Yes. They're some really neat overalls, designed for women, but with all the features of regular carpenter's overalls. See? [points to photo below]

He: [narrows eyes and looks suspicious] How much do they cost?

Her: Well, the coolest style is $45. There's another style that's more, but I like the $45 ones.

He: WHAT? For WORK clothes? For clothes you'll just work in and get all messed up? That's a little steep, don't you think?

Her: I know, but they're tailored to fit a woman's body. And see? They're shorter than men's overalls. [points again to photo]

He: [becoming exasperated] They're OVERALLS. They're just to keep your real clothes from getting ruined. And why would you need to work in something that's tailored?

Her: Well, they're really cute. And they come in pink or sea green.

He: [rolls eyes] Oh, I see ...

Her: And they'd make me look cute, and you like it when I look cute, right? [smiles cutest possible smile]

He: But $45 --

Her: Uh, well, they'd be a little more than that, babe. There's shipping and handling, too.

He: Good grief. Can't you find something cheaper than that? Like maybe, just old clothes you don't wear anymore?

Her: My old clothes don't have that loopy thing on the side to hang your hammer on.

He: [snorts and rolls eyes]

Her: Well ... I could go thrift store shopping next time we go to Austin and find some men's overalls in 'small.' That would probably be cheaper, but they wouldn't be pink or sea green.

He: I think you look good in any color.

Her: So I can get some overalls when we go to Austin?

He: OK.

Her: Promise?

He: Yeh, I promise.

Menu Item for the Recession

2008-12-03T08:42:00.009-06:00

Last night I made beans'n noodles for dinner.

Beans'n noodles is a wonderful dish: homemade noodles topped with flavorful pinto beans topped with crunchy buttered bread crumbs. Oh my. Totally delish! And cheap, cheap, cheap to boot--perfect for tight budgets and healthy appetites. Just never mind the calories.

My ex and good friend T introduced me to beans'n noodles, a traditional Friday dish in D'Hanis, a predominantly Catholic community. You know, a "no meat on Fridays" kind of place. My kids loved beans'n noodles. Who wouldn't?

(Of course, when I was in elementary school, we always had fish sticks on Fridays at the school cafeteria. I never connected the fish/no meat thing with Catholicism then though. I wonder if school cafeterias still do that?)

In D'Hanis, we usually ate beans'n noodles with fried fish, but last night we didn't have any fish in the freezer. Here in the desert, fresh fish is a rare commodity.

I hadn't made beans'n noodles since the kids left home, so Steve had not ever tasted this culinary delight before last night. I would have taken a pic of the dish, except we were too busy eating. It was wonderful stuff, just as good or better than I remembered.

Anyway, here's the drill:

Noodles:
1 cup flour
1 egg
Enough milk to fill an eggshell half

Make a well in the flour and mix in egg and milk until sticky dough forms. On a floured surface, roll out dough as thinly as possible. Cut dough into thin (1/4-1/2 inch wide) strips and drop into salted boiling water (I always add oil, a tablespoon or two, to the water to keep it from boiling over). Reduce heat to low and simmer 15-25 minutes. Stir every couple of minutes to keep the noodles from sticking together.

Mr. W's Boathouse Beans:
2-3 cups dry pinto beans
handful or more of salt pork or bacon (peppered bacon is oh so good)
2 onions (one diced, the other whole to eat later--onion cooked in bean juice is veryvery good!)
2-3 jalapenos, sliced
salt

Soak beans overnight or for several hours. Drain and rinse. Add fresh water to beans (enough to cover beans plus an inch or two) with remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. Lower heat to good bubbling simmer and cook until done, about 2 hours. (You'll thank me for that whole onion--mm-mm good!) Hint: if you have to add water during the cooking, heat up the water first; otherwise the bean skins will crack and you'll have UGLY beans!

Bread Crumbs:
4 slices bread (fresh, stale, whatever)
1/2 stick butter

Cut bread into small cubes. Melt butter in big skillet, then add bread cubes. Stir until crispy and well-toasted.

That's it.

This morning Mr. W asked me if we could have beans'n noodles every week or so. Hallelujah! He's a convert!

Just be careful the next day ...

Beans can be deadly.

Pistol Packin' Mama

2008-12-01T09:10:00.003-06:00

I recently got a Smith & Wesson .38 SPL, a small 5-shot revolver that looks like this:

I've been practicing and I'm a better shot than I thought I'd be. I've never really liked guns, but way out here there's a need to protect me and my cats from getting bitten or attacked by:

rattlesnakes
javelinas
coyotes
mountain lions
black bears
deranged criminals

Actually, I don't think there are any deranged criminals around, but if there are, I'm now prepared.

I don't want to KILL anything, so I have my little gun loaded with shot so I can just scare the intruders off. The only exception is any rattlesnake that tries to live under my house; those I will not tolerate. Just don't tell my snake-loving friends, okay? There's thousands and thousands of uninhabited acres out there and if a rattler is unlucky enough to choose my house, then he's just bought a one-way ticket to rattlesnake heaven, if there is such a thing. (See how this gun is already making me talk tough? wow!)

After the holidays I'm taking a concealed weapons class, not because I want to conceal a weapon, but because I want to know how to correctly handle my firearm. I've learned to shoot it and clean it afterward, and I'm pretty sure I have it stored properly and in easy access. I'm taking my second amendment right seriously.

Last Night

2008-12-01T08:08:00.010-06:00

Yesterday evening I watched the stars. Or I should say 'planets,' because Venus and Jupiter were shining brightly even before it got dark outside. I got a preview of what tonight will bring when the crescent moon moves even closer to the planets in our night sky.

It looks very peaceful, doesn't it?

The reality is that things were far from peaceful here, even as I was snapping photos of the sky. Mr. Wizard had borrowed a skid-steer to move our new hot tub in place late yesterday afternoon. Once we finally got the tub lifted, he had to carry it past the house without hitting any trees (or the house). Sounds easy, but with the big load in front, he couldn't see where he was going so I had to be his eyes. I nearly got hoarse, screaming directions (the machine is loud and Mr. W doesn't hear all that well anyway).

We finally got the hot tub in place, no small miracle. That thing weighs 680 pounds, according to the spec sheet. The only casualty was a cracked porch post at the corner of the house.

The cats were running rampant, excited by all the outdoor commotion and strange loud noise. At one point the three kitties were up three different trees. It was cool and brisk, their favorite kind of weather. You know how dogs will bark and run and get all excited when the first cold front blows in? Hoodie, Fredo and Paco are pretty much the same way, only quieter about it.

We keep our cats indoors during dark hours to protect them from coyotes, owls, javelinas and the occasional mountain lion that prowls our part of the desert. After the sun goes down, there's lots of hunting that goes on, and except for one baby kitten snared by a hawk in broad daylight, the kitties we've lost have been probable victims to these nocturnal hunters. When I took this photo, Paco was still outside somewhere. Not a good thing.

Mr. W tried to lure him in with food. Paco knows this trick. Last time we used it, it meant a trip to the vet to get neutered; he wasn't going to fall for that again. Finally he came right to me for a chin nuzzle, and I scooped him up and brought him inside.

Unfortunately, I didn't see Fredo lurking by the door, waiting his chance. He darted out and ran out of sight. I grabbed a flashlight and went back outside to retrieve our errant Fredo. This time Hoodie slipped past me and ran outside.

I'll spare the details, but it took a full 30 minutes to get all the kids inside, safe and sound and not too happy about it. They were over it by the time we fed them their nightly treat. During the night, it got down to the high 20s. We awoke to three cats at the foot of the bed, keeping our feet toasty warm. Of course, every time we'd shift our feet we were taking a chance on Paco growling with displeasure or Fredo attacking them; Hoodie could care less.

Thanks to the cold temps, we couldn't have lured those cats outside if we'd tried! Definitely not the case last night, though.

Still, it's a nice photo, even thought Jupiter is a little hard to make out. Tonight I'm hoping for a better shot. And I'll try not to let any cats out in the process.

The Stars at Night Are Big & Bright

2008-11-29T19:59:00.006-06:00

Some people are drawn to the Big Bend for stargazing. It's amazing how many stars seem within arm's reach here. On clear nights, it's difficult to not watch the sky.

Tonight the sky is extraordinarily spectacular, with two planets outshining even the Milky Way. I looked toward the south and just above the mountains on the horizon, Jupiter and especially Venus, about a finger's width apart, were dazzling. The moon'd already set for the day, but by Monday the crescent moon will join the two diamond planets to form a triangle.

The best time to view the southwest sky on Monday night (December Fools Day night!) is from near sunset on. If the weather forecast proves true, we should have clear skies in the Big Bend area.

Joe Rao at space.com wrote an excellent article about Monday night's planetary phenomenon. Click here for an interesting read.

Reindeer Abduction

2008-11-28T10:28:00.004-06:00

I took this photo a couple of weeks ago in Austin on northbound MoPac.

Should I have called Amber Alert?

Allen and Boris the Tarantula

2008-11-22T17:41:00.015-06:00

My oldest, Allen, turned 30 last Saturday. He always celebrates his birthdays with fanfare and fun. This was his first big O birthday as an adult (nope, 20 ain't that), so this year's celebration was bigger'n better than usual: spending time with grandparents followed by a four-day event in Austin.

As the mother, I was in a predicament as to a gift befitting the occasion. A symbolic gift. I was stumped. Ashley had found a perfect gift, surely I could, too.

We were packing up Elvis the Element to head to my parents' home in the Rio Grande Valley when the gift made its appearance--a big, brown, hairy desert tarantula. I scooped him up and put him in a plastic container with air holes punched in the top. Then I caught a small grasshopper and put it in the box with the confused tarantula, so he'd have something to do/eat on the 12-hour trip to Harlingen.

The whole drive south I was so smug, congratulating myself on finding the perfect gift. And why would a pet tarantula be the perfect gift? Well, Allen works in Los Angeles at Mojo Productions. He's a gifted screenwriter and his latest and most ambitious script is an original screenplay for a television pilot (that takes place in a ghost town in the desert, oddly enough) titled 'Tarantula.'
Wow, what an absolutely perfect idea for the perfect gift, right?

Well, apparently not.

When we got to my parents' house, they were horrified. A couple of hours later after Allen arrived at the airport and was presented with his perfect gift, he was horrified, too, only more so. I think his exact words (after he shrieked in horror) were: "Mom, you've always been a little crazy, but this is just too weird. You need to turn him loose right now. Immediately! He really freaks me out, and he wants to be--he needs to be--with his own kind!" After he shuddered, he glared accusingly at me.

After much discussion, we decided to set Boris (Allen's name for him) free out on the King Ranch. We'd be driving through there on our way to Austin for the birthday festivities, and the huge, largely uninhabited ranch seems like a fine home for a tarantula. We'd even spotted other tarantulas there on past trips, so maybe Boris could join a tarantula village; are tarantulas social creatures? My ignorance on the subject, other than knowing what they eat, is truly limited.

Poor Boris had to stay outside while Allen, Mr. Wizard and I had a great time visiting with my parents. My mom is just about the best cook there is, and we enjoyed some fabulous meals, including my very favorite dish ever, sour cream enchiladas. When Allen was born and Mom and Dad came to visit their first grandchild (oh yeh, and his mother, the one who'd just given birth to a whopping nearly nine-pound man cub), I requested Mom's sour cream enchiladas. No flowers, no gifts, just the enchiladas. They are just too yummy (and fattening) for words.

Here's my Mom and Dad:

They've been married 56 years and they still like each other! Actually, theirs is one of those storybook romances that, even after nearly six decades, is still going strong. They travel a lot and I think every trip is another honeymoon for them. They have the best times and have some of the best friends (as well as children and grandchildren) ever.

I wish we didn't live 12 hours apart, but it's hard to move the Valley any closer to my desert (and vice versa). We had a wonderful, quiet (and fattening!) two days visiting them. I always cry a little when we hit the road again, and I have a feeling Mom does, too, just as soon as we're out of sight. We're emotional that way.

So we packed up Elvis again, including poor Boris, and headed north toward our next destination: Austin.

By the time we found a suitable 'home' for Boris I'd come to the conclusion that I must have had a lapse of sanity when I took this poor tarantula out of his familiar surroundings, even though I might have saved his life (the kitties sometimes play with tarantulas until they fall apart).

Anyway, I documented Boris' release into the wild thanks to my new camera (a nifty Canon Sure Shot that weighs practically nothing and is small enough to fit in my pocket, unlike my big, heavy Canon EOS Rebel), and here are some of the photos:

Allen did the honors, setting Boris free to wander, live and hunt in the thousands of acres of semi-desert ranchland.

Boris seemed happy enough as he scurried across the sandy firebreak, headed straight toward the grasses and cacti ... and freedom from crazy desert ladies. Is that a smile I see on his little hairy tarantula face?

Allen watched as his birthday present scurries away. (Is that a tear in his eye? I seriously doubt it, unless it was a tear of relief.)

And the first thing Allen said when he got back into the Element? "Geez, Mom, I still can't believe you did that. I think the desert is making you crazy!"

Ha! Is it the desert, I wonder, or having children?

Home Again

2008-11-19T09:53:00.005-06:00

We just got back from a nine-day trip, most of it without Internet access. We visited my parents and all our kids and celebrated son Allen's 30th birthday. What a whirlwind!

Stay tuned for stories and photos from our adventures, which include releasing Boris the Hairy Brown Tarantula back to the wild. You know, heart-wrenching stuff like that.

But first, there's laundry to do and the seemingly endless chore of unpacking much-needed supplies from the city, followed by the nearly impossible task of finding places to put everything. What were we thinking? Looks like it may be time to plan an unloading trip to the monthly flea market ... (which usually results in finding at least one more 'treasure' we just can't live without--eek!).

It was so good to get to visit our loved ones, and it's good to be home safe and relatively sound!

Our 44th President

2008-11-04T21:06:00.007-06:00

There's a whole lot of work to be done to start healing our country before we can make it all better. It will be a long hard road. God bless America!

Day of the Dead Terlingua-Style

2008-11-03T09:56:00.010-06:00

I am tired this morning.

Day of the Dead celebration was yesterday at the Terlingua ghost town cemetery.

It's quite the event here ... huge altars are constructed and decorated by the locals who bring photos and favorite foods and mementoes of deceased loved ones. Incense and marigolds, sugar skulls and candles are everywhere.

Even though Dia de los Muertos is typically a Hispanic event, in Terlingua it's a community celebration for every imaginable nationality and background. Everyone brings food and beer and local musicians perform. Folks bring their lawn chairs and ice chests, so they can sit back and enjoy the evening's stories and camaraderie.

It's beautiful after sunset with glittering candles on every grave against the backdrop of adobe ruins and mountains. Incense is in the air and marigolds decorate the fence, graves and altars. The scene is warm and orange from firelight and marigolds.

There's lots of laughter and music, sometimes tears. Most folks gravitate to the huge campfire to tell stories. The town has had a colorful history; many 'characters' have lived here (and lots still do!), so most all the stories about those who've gone on before us are funny and touching.

I stayed until 10 pm, and there were still lots of people there. It's like a big reunion; folks who've moved away come back for this event and everyone has a great time telling stories about those who've gone on.

It's a wonderful and emotional event, as well as a yearly tribute to those friends and relatives we dearly miss.

November Fools' Day

2008-11-01T17:12:00.009-05:00

A long time ago, when she was a little girl, our friend Mindy designated the first of every month that month's 'fools' day.'

I haven't asked her why, besides the obvious, but I'd bet she just got the idea because of her firm belief in equality whenever possible. Why limit fools to just April?

Happy November Fools' Day -- smile and have a party!

Rare Privilege

2008-10-28T18:14:00.011-05:00

I voted today. Early. Today's the only early voting day down here in Terlingua; I think most other polling places in Texas get a week or two, but that's ok. I got to visit with friends at the community center and then I marked a real paper ballot, folded it up and put it in the ballot box. And then I visited some more.

I love voting in Terlingua. It's a social event, just like going to the post office or bank or store or restaurant.

I'm thankful that I have the privilege (only because I had the luck to be born here!) to have a voice in selecting our country's leader. Now, along with everyone else, I'll see if I 'picked a winner' on November 4. Oh, please ... let's not have to wait like we did in 2000 --until 2001.

Election Day 2000 fell on my birthday. And since Toni Price was still playing Tuesdays at Austin's Continental Club, it was the perfect place for my 29th birthday (yes, again). It was a cold, rainy night and as we drove home, I thought, 'well, looks like we'll have to wait 'til tomorrow to see who wins.' Sheesh, was I ever wrong!

But, whatever the outcome of this year's long, long, long presidential election, I will support the man we elect. Whoever wins, it's important that we all pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and face the future knowing that it won’t be easy. There are a lot of problems that we have been avoiding for too long. It is time to stop avoiding the future and to start shaping it in a way that is good for our citizens, our country, and our world. Working together, we can get it done, even if it takes a long, long, long time.

Sneakers

2008-10-23T08:53:00.003-05:00

(Thanks to Gary for sending me this hilarious video!)

Tarantula Fun

2008-10-21T12:31:00.010-05:00

Well, it was fun for the cats, but probably fairly traumatic for the tarantula taking a morning stroll across the yard.

Hoodie spotted the tarantula first and watched it while I made a mad dash to grab my camera. He was just sizing up the situation and getting ready to make a move when I got back.

Hoodie's mature enough to have mastered the art of caution, a trait foreign to the kittens. He's really concentrating. It almost looks like he's sticking out his tongue, doesn't it?

He is sticking out his tongue! Do you see that? I'll zoom in a little closer ...

Isn't that just the cutest thing ever? Do all cats do that or is Hoodie just super-intelligent?

After awhile, Hoodie got bored (tarantulas are slow and not very exciting) or maybe his tongue just got tired. Paco and Fredo were checking out the Hoodie-tarantula interaction and Fredo was next to come in for a closer look.

I think Fredo was just more interested in following/pretend-stalking the furry arachnid as it made its way to the (very sad) fig tree.

Then it was Paco's turn. He defended his spot on the limb.

Hey, this tarantula's kinda cute, I think I'll just "pet" him a little ...

And then Paco got bored and left. As the tarantula patiently climbed down the fig tree and continued on its way, the cats resumed their usual outdoor pastime: stalking grasshoppers and lizards, critters that are much more exciting.

Quality Time

2008-10-18T17:47:00.007-05:00

Mr. Wizard tripped and fell while leaving work Friday evening. He tripped over a cable in his office and fell across the corner of his desk, the corner hitting him in the chest, just off center. Nothing is broken, thankfully, but he's definitely banged up (he also banged his knee pretty good, but it's mostly the chest whack that's paining him).

All day Saturday I played Nurse Ratchett, keeping him comfortable, fetching stuff and waiting on him. He was even granted sole possession of the remote control for the TV! I was overly indulgent because, even though his injuries weren't serious enough to warrant a doctor visit, he was obviously in pain.

He's easily bored when he's chair-ridden, so I stayed inside to keep him company. But I have to say, it was nice to have this sit-down time to just talk, interrupted only by the occasional herd of cats galloping through the house (they like weekends when Steve's home all day; I think they just show off for him).

We spent most of the day talking about our plans for building the house and making reassessments of our finances, health and time, the three key ingredients for getting this house thing accomplished. I'd like to say we fine-tuned our construction plans, but we mostly discussed options and alternatives and new ideas. We're only going to do this once, so it's important that we do it right.

We didn't get a lot done, but it was a productive day nonetheless. And even though Mr. W was uncomfortable and sore, it was a good day. It's too bad that it took an injury to force us to sit down and re-evaluate. It makes me think that we should plan a monthly 'meeting' where we just put all our chores on hold to talk everything over and reassess our goals. With so many chores on our list, it's important to carve out the time to sit back and reflect once in a while.

We capped off the evening with a great dinner. Mr. W had brought back some lump crabmeat from his last foray to civilization, so I made crab cakes, aioli (too garlicky), fried eggplant (fresh from Pam's garden), and shitake quinoa.

I pan-fried the crab cakes in grapeseed oil, one of Steve's discoveries from Central Market. It's one of the few foods known that not only reduces the bad cholesterol (LDL), but raises the good cholesterol (HDL). Grapeseed oil contains a high level of antioxidants, including vitamin E, which makes it not only healthy, but very stable. It also has a high smoke point and a light neutral flavor that doesn't mask or clash with other foods. Saturday night was the first time we'd tried it at home and we were very pleased with the taste results. Hopefully we'll enjoy the health results as well.

Dessert was fresh mangos, yum. A perfect beige meal. We opened our last bottle of chardonnay and stayed up late (for us) for Saturday Night Live, something we haven't done since moving here.

Sunday was a bit more productive. Mr. Wizard was not as sore and we had our chores lined out. He stained the slab we poured last month for the hot tub (we're experimenting with colors) and I raked and hauled off dozens of wheelbarrow loads of cottonwood leaves from the west side of the house. Damn those cottonwoods! Love the shade but hate the mess! Since the west side is the back side where we spend very little time, it had gotten pretty deep and dense. I barely made a dent in it. Oh well, it's job security ... and the cats love it when I stir up the outside critters. Paco brought a half dozen grasshoppers and caterpillars in the house during the day. No lizards, thankfully.

Overall, it was a very good weekend in the desert.

Laugh of the Day

2008-10-15T17:06:00.002-05:00

Happy Birthday, Ashley!

2008-10-14T10:09:00.004-05:00

My beautiful and talented daughter had her 28th birthday last weekend. 28! And she's my baby, two years younger than her brother. I can hardly believe that it's been nearly three decades since my children were born. I guess that's what happens. If you're lucky.

And I have been lucky. My children have grown into responsible, intelligent and charming adults, both quick wits. They are so much fun to be around; I'm looking forward to spending time with them both (at the same time even!) next month in Austin. I am so very blessed!

Waking Up

2008-10-14T01:46:00.002-05:00

This morning I overslept and still caught the sunrise. Life is good.

Indian Emily

2008-10-08T09:02:00.007-05:00

I just read a fascinating story about an Indian girl who lived at Fort Davis many years ago. The story, told for years, has since been proved untrue. But it's still a good read, especially if you're a romantic. What a great movie it would make!

Click here to read the article written by an unnamed reporter for the San Angelo Standard-Times.

Strange Bug

2008-09-29T18:20:00.002-05:00

Do you know what kind of insect this is?

I've been trying to find out with no success yet.

Yesterday while trimming brush, I spotted this little fella crawling along at a pretty good clip. I've not seen a bug like this, so puffy looking and that irridescent greenish/bluish color was striking.

I chased him along (no way I could slow him down), trying to get a good photo. After about 10 shots, I let him continue on his way. I don't know where he was headed, but he was certainly making good time!

El Otoño

2008-09-27T09:43:00.008-05:00

There is a different feel to the weather now, a cooler crispness in the air. Can summer be over so soon?

The cats are frisky and the desert critters are preparing for colder weather, looking for safe havens. Last night during the first presidential debate, Hoodie caught a mouse. In our house. In the kitchen, to be more specific.

Obama and McCain and the nation's dire economic crisis had to wait while we praised our Great Hunter. He was possessive of his kill, growling at the other cats as he tossed the tiny dead rodent about (showing off, I'm sure).

Paco kept trying to butt in and get a closer look, so Hoodie took his prize into the bathroom, where he tossed and played with it in tighter quarters. Hoodie loves to throw his toys in the air and catch them, over and over. He's done this since he was small, and entertains us with his aerial acrobatics.

He flung the mouse up and it landed in the sink, where it immediately rolled into the drain. Luckily I was there and grabbed it by the tail just as it was slipping away. A lucky save on my part.

Hoodie didn't notice that I dropped the dead critter (uck!) on the floor. He jumped up to the sink and peered down the drain, looking for his lost prize. In the meantime, Paco quickly made off with the dead mouse, running down the hall, through the living room, and onto the porch. "It's all mine!" He was jubilant. Finally Mr. Wizard got it from him and unceremoniously deposited the tiny carcass in the trash can.

Hoodie strutted like the conquering hero he felt himself to be and plopped in the middle of the floor to magnanimously receive our adoration and praise. He loves being the king.

This morning he is still in 'royal mode.' Paco follows him around with bated breath, hoping for another kill.

Life is never dull in the desert, and it is good to be mouse-less once again as the cooler weather approaches.

Paul Newman

2008-09-27T09:32:00.005-05:00

January 26, 1925 - September 26, 2008

Remembering the life and legacy of Paul Newman, Newman's Own Foundation has issued a statement. The statement, from Vice-Chairman Robert Forrester, follows:

"Paul Newman's craft was acting. His passion was racing. His love was his family and friends. And his heart and soul were dedicated to helping make the world a better place for all.

"Paul had an abiding belief in the role that luck plays in one's life, and its randomness. He was quick to acknowledge the good fortune he had in his own life, beginning with being born in America, and was acutely aware of how unlucky so many others were. True to his character, he quietly devoted himself to helping offset this imbalance.

"An exceptional example is the legacy of Newman's Own. What started as something of a joke in the basement of his home, turned into a highly-respected, multi-million dollar a year food company. And true to form, he shared this good fortune by donating all the profits and royalties he earned to thousands of charities around the world, a total which now exceeds $250 million.

"While his philanthropic interests and donations were wide-ranging, he was especially committed to the thousands of children with life-threatening conditions served by the Hole in the Wall Camps, which he helped start over 20 years ago. He saw the Camps as places where kids could escape the fear, pain and isolation of their conditions, kick back, and raise a little hell. Today, there are 11 Camps around the world, with additional programs in Africa and Vietnam. Through the Camps, well over 135,000 children have had the chance to experience what childhood was meant to be.

"In Paul's words: "I wanted to acknowledge luck; the chance and benevolence of it in my life, and the brutality of it in the lives of others, who might not be allowed the good fortune of a lifetime to correct it."

"Paul took advantage of what life offered him, and while personally reluctant to acknowledge that he was doing anything special, he forever changed the lives of many with his generosity, humor, and humanness. His legacy lives on in the charities he supported and the Hole in the Wall Camps, for which he cared so much.

"We will miss our friend Paul Newman, but are lucky ourselves to have known such a remarkable person."

Meanwhile, at the National Park

2008-09-23T09:36:00.006-05:00

The good folks at the Big Bend Gazette, John Waters and Marlys Hersey, braved the swollen Rio Grande to provide a first-hand look at the flooding in Big Bend National Park. Don't try this at home!

Click here for their story.

Problems Upriver

2008-09-21T10:18:00.004-05:00

The following is an article, reprinted in whole, from Frontera NorteSur (FNS): on-line, U.S.-Mexico border news Center for Latin American and Border Studies, New Mexico State University, Las Cruces, New Mexico (It's worth noting that rain is continuing to fall in Mexico and more water may have to be released to prevent further flooding there):

The Ojinaga-Presidio Tragedy

Posted on September 20, 2008

Responding to a flood emergency, three important U.S.-Mexico border officials were killed in a plane crash in northern Mexico this week. Carlos Marin, Arturo Herrera and Jake Brisbin Jr. left El Paso International Airport Sept. 15 to assess flood damage and help coordinate emergency relief efforts in the Presidio-Ojinaga area about 250 miles southeast of El Paso-Ciudad Juarez.

The chartered aircraft carrying the men never arrived to its destination, prompting a search which located the small plane's wreckage two days later. Pilot Matt Juneau and his passengers were then declared dead.

Marin and Herrera were the U.S. and Mexico commissioners of the International Boundary and Water Commission (IBWC), a binational organization charged with overseeing US-Mexico water treaties and boundary issues. The IBWC is also involved in flood control, sanitation and other projects.

A 29-year veteran of the IBWC, Marin was appointed by President Bush to the head the agency in December 2006. Serving since 1989, Herrera was the longtime chief of the IBWC's Mexican section based in Ciudad Juarez. Brisbin was the executive director of the Rio Grande Council of Governments, an association of local governments in Far West Texas and Dona Ana County.

The US section of the IBWC is under the authority of the U.S. Department of State, which issued a somber statement after the ill-fated aircraft was discovered 23 miles northwest of Presidio and 13 miles into Mexico.

Roberta S. Jacobson, Deputy Assistant Secretary for Western Hemisphere Affairs for the State Department, praised Marin's leadership. The official's "expertise and gentle good humor," will be greatly missed, Jacobson said.

Funeral services for Marin have been scheduled for Sunday morning, (Sept. 21) at the Crestview Funeral Home in El Paso.

In a phone interview with Frontera NorteSur, IBWC spokeswoman Sally Spener said that her agency expected an acting US commissioner to be named "very soon." Spener, nonetheless, characterized veteran IBWC chiefs Marin and Herrera as "irreplaceable."

A former mayor of Marfa, Texas, Brisbin was described by several public officials as an effective advocate for rural and small communities in the Texas and New Mexico border region.

"He understood our problems because he came from a small community," said Art Franco, mayor of Anthony, Texas.

As the border community mourned the loss of Marin and his colleagues, floodwaters from a swollen Rio Conchos watershed ravaged Ojinaga, Chihuahua, and threatened its sister town of Presidio, Texas, across the Rio Grande. Rob Ponton, Presidio County Attorney and spokesman for the emergency response operation, told Frontera NorteSur that water levels had reached 28 feet -- three feet higher than those registered during the record flood of 1978.

In Mexico, six dams help control the Rio Conchos as it flows into the Rio Grande. The proximity of Presidio and Ojinaga to the two rivers' junction puts the two towns at risk in the event of flood conditions. Successful maintenance and management of Mexican flood control structures is of vital importance for both Mexico and the US, Ponton stressed.

By mid-September, hundreds of families were evacuated from Ojinaga, a town of approximately 25,000 people, as overflow from the Rio Conchos submerged four neighborhoods in water and destroyed up to 350 houses. Two government-run health clinics were likewise flooded. Traffic on a Mexican highway was halted, and the international bridge connecting Presidio with Ojinaga temporarily closed. Despite strenuous efforts, attempts to containthe Rio Conchos in Mexico fell short.

"Time got the best of us and the work couldn't be carried out as planned," said Ricardo Espinoza, a Chihuahua state legislator for the Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI). "The (National Water Commission) and equipment operators judged it necessary to leave the work areas for their own safety."

Espinoza later said government agencies and civil society organizations would step up material relief collections and financial assistance for an estimated 1,500 flood victims.

Damages calculated in millions of dollars were reported in Ojinaga, but no deaths were immediately reported in the town. Snakes, spiders and turtles were all spotted haplessly floating in the floodwaters. Swamped with water, Ojinaga's wastewater treatment plant sent sewage spilling into the Rio Grande, according to the IBWC.

On the U.S. side of the border, flooding was initially less severe but still affected farmland in and near Presidio. On Tuesday, Sept. 16, Presidio Mayor Lorenzo Hernandez ordered the mandatory evacuation of about 500 people from parts of the flood-threatened zone. According to Ponton, 100 people were temporarily sheltered at the Presidio Elementary School. The Red Cross, Salvation Army and a host of government agencies were all cooperating in assisting the victims, he said.

On Sept. 18, Texas Gov. Rick Perry issued a disaster declaration for Presidio County and sent a letter to President Bush requesting a presidential disaster declaration that would free up federal funds.

The IBWC reported that various government agencies were involved in an effort to sandbag Presidio and save the town of about 6,000 people from greater flooding.

Spener said that dozens of IBWC personnel were drawn from agency offices in Texas and New Mexico to pitch in with the Presidio operation. Spener ventured that work crews would be on the scene for some time to come. "We're not out of the woods by yet by any stretch of the imagination," she added.

Presidio County's Rob Ponton concurred with Spener that serious work lay ahead for emergency responders. Although water flows were stabilizing by Sept. 19, Ponton said that a rain-soaked Rio Conchos watershed was already backed up with three weeks' worth of excessive water.

Emergency crews, he emphasized, were laboring at a "very intense rate" to prevent a levee break in Presidio. "We're keeping our fingers crossed it won't happen," Ponton said.

The disaster that struck Ojinaga and threatened Presidio was but the latest emergency to severely disrupt the states of Texas and Chihuahua during the 2008 rainy season. While Texans pick up the pieces of Hurricane Ike, the effects of summer floods linger on throughout Chihuahua. In recent weeks, storms forced thousands of people from their homes in Parral, Chihuahua City and Ciudad Juarez. The floods served as another rude reminder that living in an arid region offers no surefire protection against extreme wet weather.

***

Additional sources:
-- International Boundary and Water Commission, September 17 and 18, 2008. Press releases.
-- Office of the Governor (Texas), September 18, 2008. Press release.
-- El Paso Times, September 17 and 18, 2008. Articles by Diana Washington Valdez, Adriana Chavez, Ramon Renteria, and the Associated Press.
-- El Diario de Juarez, September 17, 2008.
-- Articles by Silvia Macias Medina and editorial staff.
-- Norte, September 17, 2008. Article by Angel Zubia Garcia.
-- El Universal, September 15, 2008. Article by Manuel Ponce and Francisco Arroyo.
-- Lapolaka.com, September 5 and 17, 2008.

Vote Early & Often

2008-09-18T20:06:00.003-05:00

Reminder:
In order to vote in the November 4 general election, you must be registered to vote by Monday, October 6.

This is for Texas residents, of course. If you live in another state, click here to find your deadline.

You're welcome.

The Rio Grande is Flooding

2008-09-18T09:33:00.011-05:00

Mr.Wizard and I took these photos in Lajitas yesterday. Highway 170, the river road, has been closed from Lajitas to Presidio for nearly a week, and will probably be closed for that much longer.

It's been raining here, but that's not what's causing the flood. Water is being released along the Rio Concho, the major Mexican tributary of the Rio Grande. Even with water being released from the Concho's reservoirs, dams and levees have been compromised, resulting in widespread flooding along the river in Chihuahua. We got word earlier this week that Ojinaga is flooded and more than 500 homes in Presidio have been evacuated.

This is the dam at Delicias, Chihuahua, which has been releasing water for a week and will likely continue until the flooding in Mexico (above the dam) stops. Unfortunately, for us that means the water will keep coming.

Here's another view of the same dam, other side.

Damage in Lajitas has been limited to the low areas near the river, including the golf course and several buildings. We had hoped to hike up the river to get more photos, but all the low water crossings are flooded, making a short hike impossible.

Big Bend National Park is not issuing permits to float the river, and Cottonwood Campground near Santa Elena Canyon is flooded. That happens occasionally. The park has also evacuated the Rio Grande Village area near Boquillas Canyon. The campground there is flooded and the water has even reached the employee housing area, where flooding is occurring despite the sandbagging efforts of park personnel.

While surveying the situation, a small plane carrying the heads of the U.S. and Mexico's International Boundary and Water Commission and the executive director of the Rio Grande Council of Governments went down, killing all on board. My dad knew both IBWC commissioners and he had worked with them for a long time in several capacities, making it a terrible personal tragedy as well.

Looking down toward the golf course in Lajitas. The river is actually way off to the right and not in this photo; this is just part of the flooded area.

This is looking toward Paso Lajitas on the Mexican side.

Swiss Army Kitty

2008-09-13T21:52:00.013-05:00

Introducing Paco, fierce son of Possum and mini-me of Roamie.

We know this little guy's family back to his grandmother on his mother's side. But his father is of questionable origin.

Grandma was Sukey, a rescue kitty. She gave birth to Possum and four siblings under a house in the ghost town. Sukey was a lean yellow bird-killer with a machine-gun purr and the irritating tendency to be always underfoot. I say "was" because sometime after the kittens were farmed out, she disappeared. When that happens in the desert, it's usually for keeps.

Roamie is another story. He might have been raised by coyotes for all we know. Or javelinas. An apparent desert feral, he just showed up one day and lived on the periphery of our lives for a year or so, knocking up young Possum and constantly tormenting poor Niko. Roamie was quite literally edgy; even after a year, he kept his distance and wouldn't let us near him. If we accidentally spooked him or got in His Space, he would hiss shamefully at us.

Bless his heart, Roamie's since been relocated as a barn cat. I know, I'm usually taking in kitties, not finding another home for them. We were driven to it. Niko, who has alpha cat aspirations, started developing nervous habits so disgusting I can't even tell you about them unless I know you really well. I have to say that without Roamie stalking Niko around here, life is more pleasant for everyone involved.

But, back to Paco ... Here's his very first photograph:

We don't know where Paco and siblings Fredo and Oso were born. As a teenage mother, Possum hid her shame by having her babies and raising them in secret. By the time Possum let us discover her kittens, their eyes were open and they were already scampering about. Possum was a cat that followed her instincts. (Yes, I say "was" because Possum has not come back from a July hunting trip. Not yet.)

As a mother, I have my own theory as to why Possum waited so long to introduce us to her babies. I think they got big enough to start pestering her so much she just needed some outside help. I swear I could see the relief in her face when we helped her discourage the little guys from nursing so she could get back to hunting and start being a kitty again herself.

Little scruffy Paco looks like Roamie's clone. He's a little skittish, but without his dad's sass. When it's his idea, he's a real cuddle-cat. He hunts grasshoppers, lizards, flies, ants and moths. And his brother Fredo. And Niko and Hoodie. Basically, he just goes after anything that moves. I've caught him twice swatting at something on TV.

He's got Possum's eyes. And a strong purr, almost as loud as his mother's and grandmother's. The past two days he's been on a grasshopper-maiming rage, giving the roadrunners some competition.

Still, he's a jumpy little guy. Not a bad trait for an orphan in this war zone.

Hoodie

2008-09-06T12:32:00.025-05:00

Thanks to his gentle and independent nature, Hoodie enjoys Favored Cat Status about 90 percent of the time around here.

He's lovable, he minds well, and he comes when he's called ... on his own terms, of course.

I found Hoodie and a sibling on Craig's List before I moved from the city. I was grieving Puck, our old Maine Coon, and here were two precious little furballs! After I got them home however, I discovered that they were much younger than their owner had said. When I tried to contact him, he'd inconveniently disappeared, cold cash in hand.

I was outraged. These poor little critters were malnourished and still needed their mother. They had to be bottle-fed every few hours, bathed at least twice daily, and kept warm and safe. Unfortunately, one of the kittens made it only a few days. I was heartbroken. The surviving kitten held his own and thrived, developing along the way an endearing personality and a Houdini-like trait of getting into–and out of–seemingly impossible situations. We named him Houdini, which was quickly shortened to Hoodie.

I guess I should explain that we're not very good at sexing our cats. When Hoodie was about 7 months old we took him to Dr. Sam, our semi-local vet, to have him neutered. You can only imagine my surprise the following day when I picked him up to find that he'd been spayed. But since he'd always been one to us, we decided it would be easier to continue to refer to him as a he. Poor baby probably has emotional damage. In our defense, he's always enjoyed his privacy.

In this herd of cats, he's our climber. When he's outside, he's often lying around on top of one of our vehicles, in a tree, on the roof of the house, or on top of the table or sitting in one of the chairs. But he does have a hunting streak on occasion and trots up with a mouse or lizard to show off and torment the other cats.

His first year here he tried his darndest to catch one of the quail that come up in the mornings to eat the feed I throw out for them. Quail are smart. They're not easy to catch. None of our cats has ever caught one, although they've all been tempted. Hoodie is the only one who's realized the futility of it all and let the quail be. He's almost as smart as a quail now.

He's also the only one of our cats who can squeeze himself down almost flat on the floor to get under furniture when he wants to be alone. It drives his best bud Niko crazy. (But then again, just about everything Hoodie does drives Niko crazy.)

We also like to watch his big fluffy tail, which seems to have a life of its own, like an elegant snake:

Kind of mesmerizing, isn't it?

None of the other cats' tails are nearly so expressive.

See how disdainful Hoodie acts? Just another part of his charm.

Bet you're wondering how I can keep a white floor clean in the dusty desert. Answer: I don't.

Hoodie's tail serves as a swiffer. Sorta.

Back to Reality

2008-09-02T12:24:00.009-05:00

I had designated today as Weed-Eater Day at Lunaloca.

The past few weeks of intermittent rains have encouraged grass growth, even in the desert, and there are areas around here now sporting waist-high grass, lovely green but potentially dangerous.

Why dangerous, you ask. (I know, you didn't ask. I just talk this way to myself. Deal with it.) This far from civilization, the grass can hide snakes (my primary fear) and critters that may be after my cats (no, wait, this is my primary fear). Ripping and shredding said grass to ground level with a whirling plastic string becomes a priority, particularly while it's still relatively mild temperature-wise.

Unfortunately, after a good hour and a half of grass ripping and shredding, rock scattering and yucca maiming, I ran out of line. Looked for more in all the logical places with no luck. I had to resort to calling Steve at work to find out where he may have stashed it.

Rats! I was really looking forward to surprising him later today with a yard that looks like one!

After finding the line (in the third place Steve suggested), I find that I can't get the darn thing apart to get the line in. Even with a wrench. I feel like such a girl. (He told me this would probably be the case, but once again, I really wanted to surprise him in some way, this time with my brute strength.)

Oh well. It's lunch time anyway.

Tomorrow is now designated Weed-Eater Day, The Sequel.

After declaring said weed-eater dead, Niko checks it out. He's not all that impressed.

Ditto for Possum's kittens Paco (top) and Fredo. They have better things to do. Can't stick around.

And Hoodie? He never even knew what was going on.

Parting Shots

2008-08-28T21:38:00.014-05:00

Now that I'm leaving for home soon, I'd like to share some of my favorite photos taken in Guanajuato. A snap-shot tour of one of the most beautiful cities in my world.

Beautiful children ...

Colorful images ...

Colorful history ... (For 11 years the head of Father Miguel Hidalgo, placed in an iron cage, hung from this hook at one corner of the Alhóndiga de Granaditas as a warning to the Mexican revolutionaries. This building, site of one of the first battles for Mexico's independence from Spain, now houses a fine museum.)

Great examples of Churrigueresque (Mexican baroque) architecture ...

Celia's beautiful gardens ...

And a view of the city center from the Pipila overlook.

El Sol y La Montaña

2008-08-23T22:46:00.025-05:00

The sun was out almost all day today, so as soon as the dew’d dried and it’d warmed up a bit (or to be more truthful: as soon as I got my lazy self out of bed—hey, it was Saturday), I grabbed my camera and walked the trail that winds down the mountain and eventually comes out in the city, ending on the main north-south street, Calle Alhóndiga, just north of Camino Real Guanajuato

(Trivia/local gossip: A taxi driver told me that this hotel, Camino Real, is owned by the daughter of former President Vicente Fox; and another person told me that her sibling now owns Casa Colorado, another exclusive hotel on the opposite side of the city in the mountains).

I’d walked this trail before, but didn’t have my camera with me and regretted it. Every time I walk it, there are new things to notice, new perspectives, new flowers, an uprooted cactus, strange tracks.

This is a view of the school, Instituto Miguel de Cervantes, from the trail. If you know where to look, you can almost see my little apartment.

Spencer, one of the students, told me that these cactus berries are good to eat as long as they're red. I tried some. They weren't bad and I'm still alive. Thanks, Spencer.

I often see hikers, joggers and even mountain bikers on the trail, but it was deserted except for me. And the big ants.

So many pretty surprises along the way ...

Here's another view toward the school. To the left of the photo you can see the stack from the mine in Valenciana.

Around another bend and still no one but me. And the ants. An Indiana Jones movie, minus the plot and action.

As soon as the path turned to the north side of the mountain, these little red flowers started popping into sight. Happy little flowers.

Across the valley, the Mina de Rayas and the cathedral at Cata comes into view.

I moseyed along, soaked in the vistas, took photos, got bit by big ants, broke my shoe, and barely made it back to my little apartment before I peed my pants. It was one of those times that I wished I were a man, if you catch my drift.

Later, after siesta, camera again in tow, I went the opposite direction, up the mountain to the cobblerock intersection at the Mina Valenciana, to the Loncheria Los Erizos to buy a couple of cokes.

Along the way there’s a trash trailer that’s for tires only, but there’s usually some household garbage scattered around. Enough food trash to attract opossums. Sometimes there's an unfortunately slow one squished on the cobblerocks nearby. Today there were two freshly murdered carcasses to walk around. Don’t worry, I don’t photograph road kill. It wouldn't do justice to the smell anyway.

As I neared the mine entrance, circled by little tourist tiendas, I heard a commotion and saw most of the shop venders standing outside, laughing, cheering and offering words of encouragement to three young men trying, unsuccessfully so far, to load up a horse into their trailer.

The horse was determined and let the handlers know it, as they pulled on ropes, pushed at the animal, and tried to coerce it into the trailer.

It took many tries with the horse balking and kicking and trying to bite at the ropes, and once the horse nearly escaped.

Finally the would-be vaqueros got their caballo loaded and slapped each other on the back and wiped the sweaty dust from their faces and clothes.

There was a round of applause as the vaqueros drove off toward Santa Rosa, and then the crowd dispersed. Several of the shopkeepers shook their heads, looking as disappointed as if they’d lost a bet.

As if the thunder wasn't a clue, it began to rain big drops and I walked as fast as was safe on the cobblerocks. I had forgotten about the dead trasheaters in the road. and when I grazed the fence on one side I startled one of the yard dogs or roofdogs and the concert of yapping and thunder began. It was still underway. to some extent, a full ten minutes after I reached my apartment.

I think these dogs must get in trouble if they don't bark at everything. They bark throughout the day (and night), for whatever reason. It can't be any kind of alarm. I haven't seen a person yet come out to see why the damn dogs are barking.

Dog Days Are Over?

2008-08-20T12:28:00.015-05:00

News from home (i.e., Terlingua) usually makes my day while I'm here in Mexico, but not today. I'm saddened to find out that dogs (yes, our best friends) have been banned from the Terlingua Porch. Again.

Dogs have been banned from the Porch before. I vaguely remember seeing a sign posted to that effect for a short while. But, like others, I assumed this applied to foreign dogs unfamiliar with Porch etiquette. Certainly not our local dogs.

Since we have only cats at home, I've sorta adopted many of the dogs of Terlingua: Duke, Stormy, Bessie, Jake, Angel, Sugar, Momo, Jesus, Lluvia, Brown Dog, and more. I love these dogs. And most of the time, when I get to love on these dogs, it's at the Porch. They're regulars, kinda like Uh and Dr. Doug. The Porch just isn't the Porch without 'em.

Now there's a new rule. And supposedly it's supposed to stick. I suppose.

This newly enforced rule follows an incident last week when a local dog bit a little girl's face. Those are the facts. But for the whole story (since I wasn't there), I have to rely on hearsay.

Here's what I heard: The child's parents (tourists?) were eating and drinking in the Starlight and allowed their precious daughter to wander off. In a strange place. The child approached a Porch dog and took away his/her bone. The dog reacted by snapping at her and unfortunately (for everyone involved) nipped her face.

The parents were appalled. The child was distraught and hurt. The dog was put down. An edict was issued barring all canine creatures from our beloved Porch.

And yes, it's quite upsetting that a child was bitten at the Porch. I'm upset about that. Everyone is. But I know from experience that you should never take food away from a strange dog. Or cat. Or even another human being. And if I know that, doesn't everyone?

And another thing. Why was the child unsupervised? At the very least, you'd think someone would have had a lazy eye on her. Not that I'm trying to pin the blame, but as a parent, I know that when my child was out of my sight and not under my protection, anything could (and almost always did) happen.

I'm sad about the whole situation. I don't think it's fair to say that the edict is an over-reaction, but I think that dogs are kind of like children; they should be somewhat supervised. Particularly in public. And most particularly around tourons and their kids.

Guanajuato Saturday Night

2008-08-16T22:13:00.008-05:00

Each Saturday night I've been here I'll sit at my laptop writing and listen to the frogs almost, almost, drown out the sounds of a city-wide fiesta. Over the course of these past three weekends I've come to realize that it's only the sound of Saturday night in Guanajuato.

Even up here in Valenciana (and isn't the view spectacular, by the way?), you can hear the boom boom boom of the heavy bass of the music, plentiful gritos and other sounds of festivity in the valley below. And at irregular intervals, there are fireworks on this full moon night.

And of course, this Saturday night is special; it’s the last Saturday before school starts. It seems every event in life is celebrated in Guanajuato. It’s a rejoicing of life, another day conquered, And, still, we’re here to live it to its fullest.

Life here is a celebration, or at the very least, an excuse for celebration.

Guilt Trip?

2008-08-16T20:19:00.008-05:00

I'm finding that one of the best things about staying alone anywhere is the 'clean house' factor. I surprised myself to find that when I swept all the floors in this apartment, there's hardly any dirt. Not only is there a lack of dust, there's no time for things to dry out enough to make dust--enought to blow in the air. It makes for a really cool, clean humidity (that, by the way, is great for this desert-parched skin).

Other than traceable amounts of dust, lint and my hair, there was little to sweep out. After mopping, the place seems almost sterile. I mean, you wouldn't even feel guilty using this place as a makeshift operating room; that's how clean it feels.

I miss my cats.

I miss the constant fussing at them (with a heartful of love), the constant reminders that they are a part of my life. Of course, I can think of lots of reasons why I don't miss them, too, but isn't it just that way with the things you love? And it's possible that my cats have taken the places of my children somewhat. I'm willing to admit that. Maybe it's just maternal, this need for having little ones around.

On the other hand, I do also have to admit that I don't miss the constant cleaning. It's been almost like having a maid, but without having to stretch the budget.

But I still miss my cats ... there's just no accounting for irrationality, is there?

Local Art

2008-08-13T22:03:00.013-05:00

Each week, the Spanish students here at the institute have a couple of field trips. Last week, we traveled a short distance from Guanajuato eastward through the Sierra Madre Mountains (toward Dolores Hidalgo–a beautiful drive!), to a small town called Santa Rosa. There we visited the Aguilera family's ceramics shop and factory where their line of beautiful ceramics–Mayolica–have been produced by this same family for more than 45 years. Don't confuse Mayolica with talavera, though, because they are two different types of ceramics.

The name 'Mayolica' is derived from Mallorca, a Spanish island on the commercial naval route to Italy, where Mallorcan ceramics are created. When the Spanish brought new skills to the indigenous people of Mexico, the Mallorcan technique was taught to a very few craftsmen, and the Aguilera family is continuing this beautiful tradition today.

The clay is dug locally, mixed and–in this case–thrown.

From digging and mixing their special clay, to 'throwing' or casting individual pieces to painting, this large family has an impressive collection of pieces for sale in their store. Most of their pieces are exported throughout Mexico and around the world. In the U.S., Earth and Fire Imports in Terlingua (www.earthandfireimports.com) offers Mayolica ceramics at very reasonable prices.

The clays of these fine ceramics are processed by decantation. Once the thrown and molded pieces are dry, they are given a first firing in a large gas-fired kiln. Next the pieces are coated with a bisque glaze and painted in the five colors traditionally used in Mallorca: blue, green, mother of pearl, yellow and black. More recently reds and purples have been incorporated in the designs. Once the pieces are painted, they are fired a second time at a higher temperature that sets both the glaze and the vivid colors.

This is the newest generation of the Aguilera family. They are coating tiles with bisque. Then they stack them to dry before they are painted and fired a second time.

These pieces are waiting to be decorated and fired. Some of the pieces, like the soup tureen on the lower shelf, are molded.

Before the designs are painted, they must be drawn. This is the first step in becoming a ceramic painter/artist.

Next they are painted.

True Mallorcan pieces use only five vibrant colors, but over the years the Aguileras have added more colors to their repertoire.

When we visited, there were at least ten artists painting different pieces. Each artist has his or her own unique touch and specializes in certain designs. The patterns range from fruits, florals, religious and typical scenes, animals and fish, and even Day of the Dead designs. The scope of the designs are as varied as the artists' talents. It was amazing to watch them at work.

Each step of the process is completely manual, and since each piece is decorated by hand, each piece is a unique work of art.

It was truly inspiring to see a real-life family business keeping up the tradition, and maintaining and improving the quality of their work as time goes by. Families are such an integral part of Mexican culture and this family business seems to have made working together and passing along their skills to each generation a viable and successful business.

Here's a finished piece. Because Don Quijote is a local icon (Guanajuato hosts the annual Cervantino festival), there were several pieces of the would-be knight.

And of course, after touring the production side of the business, we had to visit the store. There were so many beautiful pieces to choose from, it was difficult making a decision at what we just really had to have.

Here's a view (the only shot that came out) inside their store. Unfortunately, it's hard to see how rich and vibrant the colors are; sorry, you'll just have to use your imagination on this one.

I bought one piece, a baking dish (oh, and did I mention that all their ceramics are lead-free and oven-proof?) with a Catrina, the famous gussied-up Day of the Dead lady.

If only I had more room in my GMOG suitcase, I'm sure I'd have come back with more!

¡Cuidado!

2008-08-07T16:56:00.006-05:00

The wireless signal to my apartment in Guanajuato has been flaking out on me lately, and it's been strange to not have Internet access to any world or local news events (I have no television or radio), although I'm sure the world is not missing me. No news of the presidential race in the States, no weather updates, and I have no clue what Britney Spears and Paris Hilton are up to! Thankfully.

The good news is that I've had quality time to study Spanish and work on building up my vocabulary in that lovely language. There are so many words that are similar to their English counterparts, you'd think that would make it easier, but it really doesn't. Those old pronunciation habits have a way of shining through no matter how much I try to roll my "R" or slip into that Spanish rhythm.

And, as in English, there are so many Spanish words with double meanings. I think it's oddly appropriate that the word for "I hope" (espero) is the same word for "I wait." Because isn't that usually the way it is? I mean, you wouldn't wait if you didn't have hope, right?

Last night I noticed a dark object on the floor at the corner of my bed. Thinking it was a torn piece of dark fabric, I reached down to pick it up. Just in time I realized that it was alive! Yipes! I hadn't even suspected a scorpion! (Guess I've been away from the desert too long.)

I was glad that he posed long enough to have his picture taken, and then I took care of him. From now on, you can bet that I'll be checking my shoes before putting them on. Ouch!

Mercado Hidalgo (or Sensory Overload)

2008-08-03T17:16:00.011-05:00

I remember when my son graduated from high school, a family friend gave him a Dr. Seuss book, Oh, the Places You’ll Go!, and an atlas. I always thought that was the perfect gift combination for a youngster about to go out on his own. (Well, not really ‘on his own,’ but you get my drift.) Thanks, Pat!

That’s kind of the way I feel here, thousands of miles from family and friends, experiencing new adventures complete with sights, sounds, smells and surprising occurrences.

Yesterday I went to Guanajuato's famous market, Mercado Hidalgo, in the heart of the city. It’s a huge building, and if there were such a thing as a city block in Guanajuato, it’d take up a whole one. Its exterior looks a lot like a European train station.

But on the inside, it’s anything but.

This is the ‘typical’ Mexican market, with cheesy souvenirs, colorful clothing and gift items, leather goods, yummy food and drinks, and fresh fruits and vegetables. There are more delicious smells contained within this building than anywhere I’ve ever been. If you close your eyes and inhale, it’s hard to tell where you are, there are so many different aromas competing for your attention. It makes me feel like I’m ten again and at the carnival.

In the produce areas I always smell the fresh cilantro and onions first; it’s a very comforting smell. Get closer and the smell of fragrant mangoes, citrus and peppers wafts right into your nose-holes.

Around the food booths, there’s the smell of salsas, seafood sopas, roasting meat, carnitas (my favorite), and warm bolillos (chewy bread rolls) begging you to come hither. Walk down by the leather goods and take a deep breath, and you think you’ve stumbled upon a herd of chaps-clad cowboys.

I have to admit that I do usually avoid the butcher shops in the back of the building. Now, there's a smell that I really don't cotton to even though I am a meat-eater. I just don't like the smell of it raw. Yuck.

I love this market, because there’s always something going on, either inside or out. There’s always music and there’s always lots of chatter between vendors and customers, or between vendors and vendors. And everything moves at its own pace. It’s almost like being in another country! (wrote the silly gringa)

Some of the vendors are friendly and fun.

To others, it’s just, well, it’s just a job. ("Is it quitting time yet? And when are all these crazy turistas going home?")

There are two level at the mercado: the ground level and the second level that circles around the edges of the building. There are three staircases that lead up to the second level, for your shopping convenience.

But everywhere it’s a fiesta for the senses … next time I go back I'll get a couple of bolillos! Don't know why I didn't the first time ...

Rain Good

2008-08-02T10:39:00.003-05:00

The rainy season in Guanajuato is just that. Rain and more rain. One of my first purchases here was an umbrella (sumbria) for that very reason. Last night's thunderstorms knocked the power off a couple of times, but not for very long.

But here are some of the benefits of the rain: the flowers are incredible!

Aren't these bougainvilleas gorgeous? I thought so. Here are more flores for you to enjoy!
And all of these are in Celia's beautiful gardens. She attributes her green thumb to the plentiful lluvia (rain), but I think she's definitely got the knack, although the rains don't hurt any. Heck, even her cactus is growing moss!

Keyboarding

2008-07-31T14:48:00.000-05:00

It's not all fun and games here in Guanajuato. I mean, I've found a serious problem here. Well, not just here, but everywhere in Mexico. And in all Spanish-speaking countries for that matter.

Here's the keyboard that gives me fits every morning when I use it from 8:30 until 12:30. Why? Because it's a Spanish keyboard and not all the symbols are in the same place as an English keyboard. It can drive me crazy, particularly if I'm in a hurry. The key that fouls me up the most is the apostrophe key. I never knew I used so many contractions. But look: I've already used six contractions in this entry, and I'm not even finished yet. Wait! There's number seven, followed by the eighth. Oh, good grief.

Look closely (and you can do that by clicking on the photo), and you'll see that the apostrophe is below the question mark key, and in the apostrophe's "normal" spot (on my keyboard, anyway), there's an N with a tilde (Ñ). I'm usually pretty nimble on the keyboard, but not on this one. And anyway, that's not even the normal question mark key; it's where the dash and underline keys are supposed to be! And that's just the tip of the problem iceberg when I type on this keyboard.

And then when I get back to my apartment and my laptop, I spend at least 7 minutes reorienting myself with my normal keyboard.

Life is rough in Mexico. For this gringa anyway.

And if you've been counting, there are 15 contractions in this post. And it's a short one, too. (Oops, make that 16!)

It's a good thing I'm not typing in Russia.

The Sun's Out!

2008-07-30T15:17:00.000-05:00

This is what happens when I buy an umbrella.

The sun finally came out today and stayed out, although right about now I can see some thunderclouds building up. I hope I didn't type too soon ...

Even though my little apartment is perched up on the hill in La Valenciana (just outside Guanajuato), there are sounds of activity all around as neighbors take advantage of this short-lived dry spell.

I took advantage, myself, and shot a few photos before heading to Celia’s office. The grounds here at the school are nothing short of beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that I sometimes wonder if living in the desert was the right choice. But then I look in the mirror and see my hair frizzed up from all this humidity, and say, “Nah!” I know I’m a desert gal. I’ve known that a long time, maybe since my very first trip to the Big Bend when I was 15.

Let’s see that was how many years ago? No way. I can’t even count that high. And I probably wouldn't tell you if I could.

Instead, I’ll share some of the photos I snapped of the school grounds so you can feel jealous. Just keep in mind, the humidity’s above 90 percent, okay? Put on a hat.

The is the gate to the courtyard behind my apartment. Come on in!

It all looks very peaceful and tranquil, doesn't it? You'd never know that there's lots going on outside these garden walls: neighbors hammering and nailing (isn't that the same thing), children screeching and playing, big trucks going "beep beep beep" as they back up, dogs barking, you name it.

And if you look really closely at the photo above, you can see part of my little balcony on the fourth floor. It's behind that mesquite tree.

These are the steps leading to the door of the office where I spend my mornings. Answering emails and the phone. Practicing Spanish, taking Spanish lessons, chatting with the teachers and students. It's a happy place.

The Rainy Season

2008-07-29T22:26:00.001-05:00

This is the view late afternoon from my little balcony, looking toward the city from Valenciana. If you look really closely, you can see some of the city lights already twinkling in the distance. I landed in Guanajuato during the height of the rainy season. True to form, there are thunderboomers at all hours of the day and night. If it’s not raining, you can see where it is in the distance. It’s lush and green here and it seems like whatever can bloom is doing just that. It’s great weather for the skin, but I’m destined to one long, frizzy bad-hair month …

Fortunately, there is wireless access in the little apartment where I’m staying. That’s a good thing because there is no telephone and no television. I plan to do lots of reading (remember all the books I brought in the GMOG* suitcase?). I’m looking forward to the weekend so I can read my fool heart away. (*Great Mother of God, best said with a strong Scottish brogue.)

Weekends are crowded in Guanajuato. That’s when the folks from nearby cities, particularly León, come into town to party all weekend (that’s what I’ve been told anyway). Guanajuato’s already pretty crowded and is downright claustrophobic sometimes for this desert-dwelling mama, I can tell you.

I spent most of my morning confused. I’m doing some light office work for Celia, the director of the Spanish immersion school where Steve and I studied in May. If you’ve never used a Spanish keyboard, then you’re in for a real treat. The keys are basically the same, but a few are changed around. For example, instead of the semicolon/colon key, there’s one for “Ñ.” And I have no idea where the @ key is; I haven’t found that one yet. Anyway, there are just enough differences to make typing a wee bit confusing.

When I tried Google, it was Google all right, but everything was in español. It took me awhile but I finally figured out how to get to Google in ingles.

After my español lesson this afternoon, I trekked into the city, which is way, way down the hill from Valenciana where I’m staying. Fortunately, one of the maestros from the school drove by and picked me up. I swear, I’m not the spring chicken I used to be. The altitude here is above 7,000 feet and I was huffing and puffing like Popeye, only not as sexily. (I guess “sexily” is a real word because it passed the spellchecker.)

I bought 100 pesos’ worth of minutes for my cell phone, then an umbrella. I walked to the city centro and purchased groceries, enough to get me through the next five or six days. I love shopping in Mexico. The ripe fruits and veggies are so fresh and fragrant, it’s hard not to just eat ‘em on the spot. I was hungry, but resisted the street vendors’ tasty tortas and burritos; I was determined to save some money and eat my own cooking.

I caught a local bus back to Valenciana and walked up the hill, then down past Mexico's most famous--and productive--mine back to the apartment. The street is cobblestone, and the stones range from tennis balls to footballs in size. It would be more appropriate to call it cobblerock. Not the easiest walk to make while lugging groceries. Heck, it's not even easy without lugging groceries. I’ll be glad when I get used to the altitude in a few days.

My little apartment has the cutest little kitchen (that’s cocina in español). But I have to admit, the first thing I did after unpacking groceries is pop open a Coke and savor the taste of a Coca Cola made with real sugar and not corn syrup. Yum. One was so good, I had to have another. At this rate, I’ll go through my six-pack before morning.

Here are a few photos of my cute little apartment:

And here's the 'necessary room,' complete with washer and dryer (you can't see them in this photo, but they're really there off to the left).

It's late and I need to get up early so I can fight the Spanish keyboard again. Mañana!

The Bus Ride

2008-07-28T19:22:00.000-05:00

The bus ride to Guanajuato didn’t go nearly as smoothly as on my previous visit. Of course, this time I was traveling solo, which is not always a bad thing (depending on who your traveling partner is) because you can pay more attention to the scenery going by. From Ojinaga to Chihuahua everything went well. It was after I got to the Chihuahua bus terminal that things started going weird.

First, I had to wait an hour and a half, still not so bad. Mexican bus terminals are fabulous places to people-watch, I had plenty to read if I wanted, and I wasn’t hungry (still stuffed from the incredible meal Steve and I had at Cazuales in Ojinaga … yum). BUT, when–like a good girl–I visited the public (pay) toilet just prior to departure time, I couldn’t get my giant bag through the turnstile and locked it up. (Linda Walker calls this bag the-great-Mother-of-God suitcase because it’s, well, it’s huge, but hey, I had to pack for five weeks.) After a nice but non-English speaking gentleman helped me maneuver said bag (Oh yeh, did I mention that it weighed almost 70 pounds? And why did I need to bring so many books anyway?), the machine had already swallowed my money, which was all the change I had (extremely poor planning on my part; now Steve would have had the correct change times five).

So, after having made a small spectacle of myself during the GMOG-bag-stuck-in-the-turnstile incident, I asked a really nice couple (well, they looked nice and I think they really were), also English-challenged, if they’d watch my bag while I got some change and they agreed and laughed. Gee, I wonder why. Tick, tick, tick. The clock kept going even though I hadn’t. Yet. And it can be a potentially seriously embarrassing situation after enough time passes, thank you very much. Finally, after I had taken care of business (whew), I retrieved my bag from Nice Couple and profusely thanked them in my pitiful español, then headed out to find my bus.

IT WASN’T THERE.

I double-, triple-checked my ticket, which had the bus number written on it by the nice ticket salesgirl. No such bus. Not even a bus from the other lines (I had selected Omnibus’ primera clase) going to León, my next stop. Had I missed it whilst fighting the toilet turnstile? I was on the verge of tears, screaming, or crawling into fetal position while sucking my thumb mode. I stood there staring at my ticket as if it was going to magically save me.

Over at the little refreshment station, one of the coffee-drinking bus drivers must have noticed my dumbstruck look, because he came over and looked at my ticket. “Ah,” he said (that's universal language for “I know what’s wrong with this crazy gringa,”) and pointed at an Omnibus about to pull out of the gate. It didn’t have the same number as my ticket and its destination sign said “Queretaro,” but it turned out to be the one I was supposed to take. I skedaddled aboard quickly, mainly to get out of earshot of the baggage handler who had to load GMOG into an already full baggage compartment, complete with barking dog in its kennel, wondering what it’d done to deserve its outrageous time-out in the belly of a Mexican bus.

I stuffed my computer bag in the overhead, plopped my pillow and camera bag on the seat beside me, buckled up, tilted the seat back, and prepared to recover from my little incident. And maybe reapply deoderant. We hadn’t gone 20 miles before it started pouring rain, the leftover remnants of Hurricane Dolly. After nearly one whole blissful minute, I noticed that the floor of the bus was puddling up with rain, coming in from my window. Of course–my window! Which was broken. Thankfully I’d put my camera bag on the seat next to me and not on the floor. The bus was about three-fourth filled, so I was lucky to have an empty seat next to me. Since the ride was going to be about 18 to 20 hours long, I was looking forward to the extra sleeping room. But alas (universal language for "oh shit"), it was not to be.

About 30 minutes after the rain began, we came across a stranded bus and we stopped to completely fill our bus with those poor passengers. Plus two people who opted to stand in our bus's aisle rather than wait by the side of the road for the next bus. A plump little old lady chose the seat next to me; she appeared exhausted from her ordeal and sat with her eyes closed. I held my camera bag in my lap (yes, it was also heavy because I'd stuck a couple or five books in case I wanted to read on the bus) and drifted off to sleep, until my legs went numb from the weight. I shifted the bag to the top of my feet and dozed off until the little old lady put her hand on my leg. By then it was dark and she was snoring softly, so I gently moved her hand back to her own lap, and dozed again, only to be awaked by the hand on my leg, inner leg, this time. I not so gently picked up the hand and saw that that the little old lady wasn't sitting next to me anymore–it was a strange man! My mind raced as he gently snored. Was he really sleeping? Was this a deliberate act of molestation of some sort? I shoved my camera bag into the seat between us and put my arm on top of it. Of course, a 20-pound camera bag being shoved into his side woke him up with a start, then he immediately went back to sleep. He wouldn’t “accidentally” touch me again, I hoped. Everyone else on the bus was sleeping, even the babies. Everyone but the driver. And me. I was adequately freaked out enough now that I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. After what seemed a really long time, I checked my watch. 12:24. It was a very, very long night.

Fortunately, when we got to Zacatecas just before daybreak, enough people disembarked so that I could move to another seat. From Zacatecas to León, there were no more incidents (other than the most beautiful smile from an adorable curly-haired toddler in the seat across the aisle!).

Buses leave León on the hour for Guanajuato. This time I chose wisely and got the nicest line, ETN, which has a row of cushy single seats on one side of the bus and cushy doubles on the other. As I picked up my complimentary drink and sat down, I noticed that the very same MAN was on the bus! There he sat, snoring softly away in his single seat where he would not freak out any proper lady passengers.

But I’m here now and all’s well. Sure am tired though. I’ve got a lot of sleeping to catch up on!

The City of Frogs

2008-07-26T17:46:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow I leave for Guanajuato, Mexico. It's the capital of the state of the same name and is one of my favorite places. The name Guanajuato is said to come from a Purepecha word that means "hilly place of the frogs." It's a beautiful city built in the mountains and is one of Mexico's colonial cities, with Spanish European influence everywhere. It was an important spot for the Spanish because of the rich mines there; some are still productive. Because Guanajuato is primarily an agricultural state, there are wonderful fresh fruits and vegetables in abundance. I'll be there a little more than a month, house-sitting for a friend. Besides staying in such a beautiful city, another perk is that Spanish lessons are included. And Guanajuato's a great place to learn Spanish, because not much English is spoken there, unless you count market vendors who speak 'money' in lots of languages.

The city was built along the Rio Guanajuato and was prone to flooding until the river was diverted into underground caverns. The original riverbed serves as a highway of sorts and there are many highway tunnels, built by the enterprising miners. These twisting roads, alleyways and tunnels give the city the feel of a labyrinth. But more on that later ...

I checked the weather conditions and that's also a perk: high 80s during the day and 40s at night. How perfect is that? Warm enough days for a cerveza fria and cool enough to sleep under a blanket with the windows open. Just stick a fork in me!

Getting there will be an adventure in itself. We traveled to Guanajuato earlier this summer, so I already know the drill. Steve will drive me to Presidio, and across the Rio Grande into Ojinaga. I'll take a bus from Ojinaga to Chihuahua, change to a higher-class bus from Chihuahua to Leon, and then change again to a commuter bus to Guanajuato. The whole trip is a 24-hour affair: 3 hours from OJ to Chihuahua, 20 hours to Leon, then about an hour to Guanajuato (Gto.). The first two buses are air conditioned, show videos, have fully reclining seats, plenty of leg-room, and restrooms. They also have reserved seats. The last bus is more like a U.S. city or commuter bus, but without air conditioning.

I'll sleep some during the middle leg of my trip, but I like to be awake when we come into Zacatecas because that's another beautiful mountain city. I want to visit there someday with my friend Summer, who's lived there before (now that would be some fun!). Somewhere along the way we'll stop to eat. I'm hoping to get to stop at a little place outside Aguascalientes where we stopped before; the food there was fantastic and the prices reasonable. We had some of the best tacos al carbon and carnitas I've ever had. Yum.

The Mexican bus stations are more like our airport terminals than our U.S. bus stations. There are ticket counters for all the bus lines (and there are a bunch of them) and their different classes. The difference in fares between classes is not huge. I was really surprised at how efficient the Mexican bus system is. Apparently the Mexican government invested in its bus system whereas the U.S. put more money into airports. Each terminal along the way has a pay toilet, about 3 pesos, and they're much cleaner and nicer than I had expected.

It will be tough leaving the desert--yet again this year!--and I'll miss my friends and pets, but it's such a wonderful opportunity. I'll take lots of photos and share them in the coming weeks. Hasta pronto!

My Backyard

2008-07-24T11:37:00.000-05:00

Yes, it's beautiful, isn't it? It's a wonder I get anything done at all, between gawking at the scenery and watching 'cat TV.'

See how the ocotillo's all leafed out? Pretty, huh? We live in a veritable forest of ocotillos. I think they look a lot like underwater plants. And once upon a time, this area was part of an ocean, so it's not as far-fetched a notion as it sounds. But besides being just a very cool looking plant, ocotillo is one of the most resourceful of desert flora. They absorb most of their moisture through their long spiny limbs, and lose those perky little green leaves when they go into drought mode which is pretty often. Hey, it's the desert.

I take lots of photos of ocotillos. Here are a few:

This is actually looking east. The sunset is behind me, but the clouds and mountains in the east can be spectacular as well. That's why we watch the sunsets backwards at the ghost town Porch.

Here's what a bloomin' ocotillo looks like. And now here's a closeup of the blooms:

Aren't they pretty? You're welcome.

Summer Thunderstorms

2008-07-23T12:25:00.000-05:00

Summer is the reality check for living in the desert, where it’s not uncommon to reach 100-plus temperatures on a daily basis. On a nightly basis, too. If there’s a breeze the effect feels much like that of a convection oven, and we all get a teensy bit roasted. Hydration is the key to survival, but more on that later.

Sometimes I will hear an approaching storm before taking notice of the clouds. The deep rumble of thunder is one of the most beautiful sounds heard on a convection-oven afternoon. I can hear the leaves rustling in a tidal wave before the wind blasts in to our mountain valley. A friend clocked winds at 83 miles per hour during a recent storm, well above hurricane force. But that’s another story, too. This desert is chockfull of stories.

Behind the wind wave, you can see the rain coming closer. When the first quarter-size drops hit, the outside cats beat a retreat to their shelter, and the inside cats run to their window perch to watch until they get bored. There’s a tin roof on our sleeping porch and sometimes the sound of rain beating down drowns out the thunder. It’s that loud.

I go into “safety mode,” and make the rounds unplugging everything except the refrigerator. If there’s enough light, I can do inside chores, but if it’s dark it’s a great time to crawl into bed with a flashlight and a good book. Unless I’m hypnotized by the frequent lightning formations.

As soon as the storm passes I’ll walk southeast toward the Chisos Mountains, enjoying the wet creosote smell. I love the smell of rain, but the smell of a freshly wet creosote bush is even better. It’s a clean, crisp smell—no dust, no heat. The outside cats sometimes come with me on my walk. Usually I don’t get far because every gully and ravine is awash with runoff, exposing rocks and creating new tiny rivers of latte-colored water. The desert plants, especially resurrection plants, come alive. Everything that grows here squeezes every bit of usefulness from the moisture.

In the next day or two, the long arms of ocotillos, forever pointing skyward, will leaf out and create a massive fuzzy sea of green all through the valley. Nothing is as alive as this desert. And nothing is quite as beautiful as a summer thunderstorm.

Possum of the Desert

2008-07-22T13:16:00.001-05:00

I woke up this morning early and went outside to see if Possum had come back. She was missing all day yesterday, but that's not unusual; she's been known to take hunting trips, but hadn't done this since birthing her kittens, who are now about 2 months old. I sat on the step and called her, my usual morning routine. Her two kittens, Paco and Fredo, knowing that my calling means "chowtime!" crawled out of their hiding place to look for food and then played with whatever was moving. Kittens are so much fun to watch. Our neighbor Anne calls it "cat TV." But after 20 minutes, still no Possum.

I walked around awhile to see if she was somewhere else, but I wasn't optimistic; she's a real people cat and a love muffin. If there's a chance she'll get her head scratched, she's there in a hurry. We call her our "greyhound" because she'll fairly fly to get to us. When I go walking and exploring, she's usually right with me, and almost always brings a live lizard back to her kids. She's a good little mama and a great huntress. For a teenage mother, she had an incredible maternal instinct.

I miss little Possum. I can't help it, but I am already grieving her loss. The desert can be a fabulous playground for the outside cats, but it's also a very dangerous warzone. A month ago we lost one of Possum's kittens, a frisky little black charmer named Oso, to a hawk. But Oso was very adventurous from the start, and that's probably what made him easy prey. His brothers, Paco and Fredo, are more timid--particularly Fredo who is scared of his own shadow. Possum was always on the lookout for trouble, and I felt like she was the safest of our outdoor kids.

It's now early afternoon and still no Possum, my girl with the beautiful eyes and lightning speed. Paco and Fredo and I will miss her.