Post-it Notes

In spite of the calendar, the sap must be running – the tips of the cottonwoods are greening and other tree tips are getting fuzzy. Last year I noticed evidence of the rising of the sap in February. Here we are, the middle of January, and the evidence is plain—after a short winter nap, hints of spring.

Last week, Nick noted that bluebirds were checking out the birdhouse on the back patio. They departed with no lease applications submitted. Yesterday, I saw a Titmouse exploring the neighborhood. Flitting from chair to table to chair, considering the view. Except the view of concern was the exposure to threats. Finally decided to peek inside; disappeared into an apartment on the lower level. I waited…10 minutes went by…no egress. Had the Spring’s rental been agreed and a deposit of eggs made already? What other reason to stay? But it’s only mid-January.

The law of Murphy’s dog: The less time available to walk the dog, the more interesting smells there are to grab the dog’s attention. C’mon, Nutmeg. We gotta get going!

Rabbit hit by a car and expired on the side of the road. Discovered because of the Unkindness of Ravens gathered around as we approached. The next day, the rabbit’s remains gone, we found only fur and tracks. Nutmeg intrigued by the smells of unseen raiders and me trying to identify unknown prints, we spent 15 minutes with our noses pointed at the ground.

Thursday, we had 3 seasons of weather. Sunny, mild, cloudless, cloudy, cold, damp, rainy, snow falling and blown horizontally, sunny and mild. I had a date with Gail to walk after work, to bird, and a beer. A fire, wine and good conversation instead.

“Dirt is a guys’ thing.” Nick’s quote to me as he left to oversee the digging of a perk-test-trench on our property. I posted this note on Facebook . Repeating it here with picture. Don’t let her fool you – Nutmeg arrived after the fact and could only wonder at the size of THAT dog!

So we’ve “broken ground.”

Note the strung-out house lines, approximately at first-floor level. Lower level at ground level. All rooms first and below, face south except Nick’s office. While watching the videos, please turn down the volume. I didn’t know I was breathing into the camera’s ear!

Last night: an evening of music. Peter Mulvey the main draw – the first of the Mimbres Arts Council’s folk series. Folksy but bluesy, too. Funny, sad, profound. An unusual approach – Letters from a Flying Machine – he tales letters he’s written to his born and not yet born family members with audio accompaniment by the drone of the aircraft’s engines. An opening act by Nicole Reynolds. Strong guitar; sweet, moving, loving lyrics. A voice of an 8 year old: breathy, almost carrying her tune. Matching her diminutive stature.

Another wall needed. Another picture to hang. Manzanita Ridge has a collection of signed R.C. Gorman posters. Managed to choose only one: Young Navaho Mother, 1991, Adagio Galleries. Did I mention, signed by Gorman and framed?



I’ve run out of sticky notes for now. Next week: Red Paint Powwow. Missed last year in favor of a hike in nice January weather. Not to be missed this gathering.

What post-its are on your mind? Sonnie

Resolution for 2010

Last year’s resolutions are so…last year! Learn Spanish; read more; learn to cook; water Nutmeg. Oh, you want specifics? I learned enough Spanish to order tamales at Masa y Mas but not enough to understand the Spanish-language radio station; I read the trilogy by Rudolfo Anaya and discovered a NM mystery writer: Michael McGarrity plus found several local authors – whoa, this is one resolution I really kept—but then of course we’re talking books, here; and I cook everything with chile now— well, almost everything. My new motto? Red or Green. Original, don’cha think ;^? Despite the fact my real resolution was to learn to cook at altitude, having nothing to do with color. And you can put a water bowl in front of a dog, but you can’t make her lap.

This year, I’m keeping it simple. My single resolution for 2010: Appreciate!

The genesis of this resolution is less simple. A close friend of Marian and Brandon’s, our former neighbors in MD, sent them an email, which they shared with me. I asked their permission, because I couldn’t ask his as readily, to share parts of his email with you. I saw myself reflected, but it was a fun-house-crazy-mirror reflection that feels not particularly flattering. So I’m paying attention. And making my resolution. You’ll see what I mean…

“Well I’m back in the Far East and I wanted to share a little experience… Feel
free to share with others if they are having a bad day. Sometimes a note
like this will help them appreciate…
“On my way back to Afghanistan…After my third airplane ride, I was able to get some sleep in a real bed. The single size bed, sharing a tent with 10 other troops, and walking 50 yards to the bathroom gives me no grounds to complain because I was resting on the “nice side”…
“…I had the joyous experience of showering in ice cold water…[then]waited in the travel lounge for 15 hours to catch a plane. The reason is that other aircraft were redirected for combat missions. Instead of complaining the entire 15 hours, I wrote emails to my sweetheart, sat next to a guy … and met a ton of other great…people.
“Here is the part when you say, yep…my day was pretty good compared to this guy in the email. I finally got on a plane at 3 am and we flew 4 hours to our next stop in the eastern part of Afghanistan. I put on my gear that weighed over 40 lbs, grabbed my suitcase that weighed 35 lbs, and a 25 lbs backpack on the other shoulder.
Then we had one of those “this is it…oh sh#t moments”. We had to run
off the plane for the next 150 yards over gravel and cement roads with all of
our gear. Why run? Because ½ mile away the bad guys decided to
welcome us back with AK-47 gunfire.
“So…if you hear about one of your coworkers, friends, or children complaining about having a bad day, then tell them to fly over and hang out with us for awhile.”

Doesn’t mean I won’t have a bad day this year. Heck, I’ve already had a couple of slightly annoying ones and it’s only, what, the 12th? Of January? I’m resolved, though, that I’m going to remember and to appreciate. I have so much about which to be appreciative. Won’t bore you with those details, but just know that you’re included.

Thanks, Joe. I owe you one! Sonnie

Playing Peek-A-Boo

Friday weather story...

Before leaving for El Paso, walking Nutmeg under a turquoise sky, not a cloud overhead. Cold – about 20 degrees – makes my face burn-y and my nose run. Doesn’t bother Nutmeg a bit. Looking south, there’s a band of clouds moving up from the border country. If this were July, they would be monsoons. This being January, they have no name that I have heard. Ceiling of about 6,000 feet. I know, because the clouds’ bellies are snagging on the Burros mountains making the peaks appear and disappear, to reappear a wind-drift later. Bear Mountain has captured spoonfuls of cloud in its dips and low spots, and the highest hills in town have smoke rings around their heads. Reminds me of playing peek-a-boo.

Gimme Shelter

To be…Snug. Safe. Protected. Home.











Another snowy day last week found our creature neighbors seeking shelter. You know they go to ground when the weather turns, but you rarely get to see them hunkered down and waiting out the storms. This storm, they sought out the cover of the junipers and grasses next to the house.








With the storm passed, and the next afternoon’s sun warming the earth, shelter of a different sort was sought – the shelter of quiet solitude.




New Year’s Eve found me seeking the shelter of the universe under the blue moon and the constellations in the clear night sky. Sirius, Orion’s Belt, Betelgeuse, even the red planet Mars all standing out against the brilliance of the full moon marked the turn of the year and the decade as viewed from our back deck. It’s been my practice and tradition wherever I am on New Year’s eve to look to the heavens and raise a toast in thanks for what’s been and what’s to come. That we may experience the diamond clarity and illumination of that evening’s stars, planets and moon throughout the coming year until I stand under the next New Year’s sheltering sky.

With the warmer weather on the weekend, we went to our property with our drawings, a compass and tape measure and a pocket full of string. We found South and from there placed the four corners of our new house. Ran the string to outline the footprint of the house. Stood “inside” and looked “out the windows.” This is where our bed will be. There’s the fireplace. Here’s the kitchen and the dining room table. Can we keep that piñon? What about this juniper over here? Smiled as Nutmeg unerringly settled down in the sun on the “floor of the bedroom.” Such a house-dog.

Gimme shelter. Home. A native drive common to us all. ss