Las Mañanitas

Tarantula Season

2009-10-16T08:41:00.008-05:00

Autumn is our favorite season is Taos, and our furry friends always add to our enjoyment:

Our goal this time was to do four hikes in four days, but because of a little rain we only managed three hikes. The first one was along the Dorothy Stewart Trail in Santa Fe. The trailhead is on the edge of a ritzy Santa Fe residential neighborhood, up past St. John's College. It's an easy 45-minute hike with spectacular views of Santa Fe and the mountains beyond:

Hike number two was up and over several dunes at Great Sand Dunes National Park in southern Colorado. It was a shock to see mountains of sand next to actual mountains, and even more shocking to attempt anything like normal hiking in this desert landscape:

Our last hike was on the Devisadero Trail in Taos. We always save this hike for the fall when it's cool enough to climb in the middle of the day. It had snowed in the mountains the previous day, leaving behind the season's first snow caps:

No Exit

2009-07-24T11:13:00.014-05:00

The pitter-patter of little mouse feet in the ceiling above our bed: at first we thought it was just another aspect of country life, like dirt roads and septic tanks. But after three years of listening to the rodent symphony--which sounded like they'd built a little mouse adobe and were constantly rearranging their little mouse furniture--we decided to take action.

Marcus the exterminator showed up promptly after our call and toured our house inside and out, including the roof, searching for weaknesses in our home's anti-mouse defense system. He found several: a small mouse-sized opening in the vent leading to our mechanical room, several spots in our north portal where the interior vigas protrude to the exterior, and all fifteen of our roof vents. Marcus explained that even though the vent openings were twelve inches off the roof's surface, a determined mouse could jump that high and climb right in.

"If there were only a few mice and hundreds of houses out here instead of the other way around, you wouldn't have a problem," he said. He set out several pieces of mouse poison--little blue cubes guaranteed to do the trick--and advised us to seal the roof vents with steel mesh and baling wire. "You'll smell dead mice in your ceiling pretty soon, but at least you'll know the stuff is working."

After he left, Steve set to work stuffing steel wool into gaps and closing off the roof vents with 1/8" wire mesh. It took two days to complete the job, but when it was finished we felt confident that we'd sleep peacefully.

No such luck. The first night, we found a mouse trapped in our shower stall, frantically looking for water. By morning it was gone, only to be replaced the next night by another one sneaking into our living room. Luckily our grandkitty, Bertie, had just arrived that day and was on the alert, and we were able to shoo it out the front door before Bertie could tear it to shreds. A few days passed with no further mouse sightings, but after our two grandkitties and their owners, Drew and Liz, left, we descended into Rodent Hell. For each of the next five nights, a mouse would drop into our house by squeezing through the slats in the ceiling; since we'd sealed off access to the outside, they had nowhere else to go. We barricaded ourselves in the guest bedroom, thinking that they wouldn't come to that part of the house, but just as we were about to fall asleep we heard that telltale scurrying above our heads.

Desperate from lack of sleep, we decided to set traps throughout the house. We found traps at Walmart--plastic rectangular 'mice cubes'--promising an effective and humane alternative to traditional mousetraps, but our tormentors turned up their little snouts at those wimpy cubes. Finally we set out spring-loaded traps, baited them with peanut butter, and caught the biggest and craftiest of our visitors.

Five nights have passed since then with no further sightings. The only remaining evidence of Mickey, Minnie, and their brood is that distinctly sweet smell, eau de rotting rodentia.

El Otro Lado

2009-07-13T13:31:00.013-05:00

Our dealings with the town's Spanish residents are usually limited to brief conversations with store clerks and repair people, surface exchanges at best. But one day last week we experienced something new--a rare immersion into the other side of Taos.

The Driver
On our way to an appointment to have our windshield replaced, we decided to stop at our local post office in Arroyo Hondo. As we were pulling into a parking space, a young woman in the adjacent spot was backing out. We stopped to give her some maneuvering room, certain that she was aware of our car. Then, in one of those sickening moments when you realize that something awful is about to happen, she turned her car at precisesly the wrong angle, connecting her rear bumper with our driver's-side quarter panel. Apparently unaware of our blaring car horn until the moment of impact, she emerged from her car looking dumbfounded. Meanwhile, Steve tried to open his door, but the dented quarter panel made that impossible, and we both had to get out on the passenger's side.

"No entiendo," said the woman when Steve, trying to control his temper, asked "Why didn't you stop? Why didn't you look where you were going? Didn't you see our car? Didn't you hear our horn?"

"No entiendo," she repeated, when I told her to turn off her engine. Summoning my long-buried college Spanish, I said, "Tenemos que llamar la policía y wait aquí for them to venir."

By now her little boy, about 5 years old, had climbed out of his car seat and was clearly intrigued by what I'd said. "La policía?" he asked his mom, then started jumping up and down in anticipation. "La policía! La policía!"

The Translator
This is where I should point out that, while most Taoseños are fluent in Spanish, there are virtually no young women or five-year-olds here who can't speak English unless they were born in Old Mexico and arrived here less than a week ago. The New Mexico license plate on her car added to my suspicion of the woman's 'no entiendo' routine, but when she rattled on in Spanish, I asked a local man who'd just pulled up in his pickup--both he and his vehicle appeared to be in their mid-seventies--to translate for me.

"She says it's her mother's car and she needs to go home and take some medicine. Her mother lives just over there," he said, pointing to a mobile home across the road.

"All right," I agreed, figuring that as long as her car remained in the lot it would be okay for her to leave. Besides, it would take at least 45 minutes for someone from the county sheriff's office to arrive, so there was plenty of time for her to go home and return to the scene of the crime.

As the woman and her son walked away, my translator friend turned to me and Steve and, trying to diffuse the tension by changing the subject, pointed out his own home on the top of the ridgeline less than a mile from where we were standing.

"I lived in California for a long time, but a few years ago I decided to return to Arroyo Hondo. My family owns all that land," he said, indicating roughly twenty acres on the hillside, "and my brother's family and daughter's family live there, too. I was born there, and I'll probably die there. In fact, I wrote a book about the history of Arroyo Hondo. Haven't you seen it on the post office wall? I'll show you."

We followed him inside. Sure enough, there was a large glass-enclosed display on the wall featuring his book: Arroyo Hondo and Its Beautiful and Magnificent People--Past, Present and Future. The display included photos of Arroyo Hondo and a notice that there were four other books by the same author. We managed to express a polite interest in his book and asked him if there were still copies available. "Of course!" he smiled. "I think I have a few in my truck."

He returned shortly with two books. "The Arroyo Hondo book is fifteen dollars, but I'll give you this one for free," he said proudly, offering us a copy of Moe: A true story about a smart chimp who defied the courts and authorities to become a hero! Moe himself was pictured on the cover, sporting a plaid blazer, striped surfer shirt, athletic socks and mocassins. Amazed at our friend's versatility as a writer, as well as his ability to coax spare cash from unsuspecting post office patrons, we shook hands and waved goodbye as his truck pulled away.

The Deputy
Twenty minutes later the sheriff's deputy, Sergeant Peralta, arrived and gave us his assessment of the accident. "I'm not writing a citation for either party, since this is a parking lot and not a public thoroughfare. But I would say that both drivers are at fault." Sensing that an argument would be useless in this Spanish vs. Anglo situation, we nodded politely. "You should have given her more room as she was backing out," he continued.

Now Steve really had to bite his tongue. Since when does a person backing out bear no responsibility for checking for other cars in her path?

Sgt. Peralta seemed impatient to get on with his day and dismissed us with a curt goodbye after informing us that his report would be available to our insurance company in five or six days. His manner strongly implied that he did not want us to stick around for his tête-à-tête with Señora No Entiendo and her mother.

The Auto Glass Guy
Feeling discouraged and annoyed, and knowing that our little fender-bender would cost us our $500 deductible, we drove to our auto glass appointment in Ranchitos, the heart of Spanish Taos. We were greeted by the owner, Mike, a kindly man in his early sixties. Mike sympathized with our take on the accident, incredulous that the sheriff's deputy considered Steve in any way to blame.

While Mike's employees replaced our windshield he told us his life story. Born in Taos, he moved to southern California to work in auto body repair and restoration. He did auto glass work for celebrities--Jay Leno, Linda Ronstadt, and Rod Stewart, among others--who drive classic cars. But like our translator friend, Mike missed New Mexico and decided to return to his hometown with his wife and three kids, thinking that Taos would be a better environment for his family. In one of those tragic ironies, his oldest son, seventeen at the time, was murdered in a drug-related incident in 2000, only two years after the family had relocated to Taos. Despite the devastating loss of his son, he said he tries to focus on "the good things in life," and his eyes shone with pride as he talked about his only daughter and youngest child, Tammy, a state track champion hoping to attend Notre Dame in 2010.

The Classic Car Guy
While we were waiting for the windshield glue to set, a young friend of Mike's named Vito dropped by to inspect the glass work that Mike was doing on a '49 Chevy truck. Vito owns a body-and-paint business and does mainly high-end restoration jobs for wealthy clients. He and Mike often work together on classic car restorations, as was the case with the Chevy. Mike introduced us to Vito, who then offered to repair our car. He explained that he does occasional collision work when he has the time and that things were a little slow at the moment.

Our insurance company agreed that his estimate was reasonable, so we followed him to his shop a few miles away, just behind the St. Francis church in Ranchos. When Vito showed us the paint work he'd completed on his two current projects, a '56 Bel Air and a '68 Mustang, we knew we'd come to the right place. We arranged to meet the following day to choose the best paint color for our new quarter panel.

Thus ended our foray into the Spanish community--a satisfying conclusion to what began as a very frustrating day.

A happy addendum to our story: Vito took great pains to find an exact color match for our quarter panel (who knew there were six different shades of dark red metallic pearl?) and our car now looks better than new. When we returned to his shop to pick up our car, he introduced us to his wife and two adorable kids, took us on a tour of his 400-year-old adobe home which has been in his family for generations, and showed us his guitar collection and home recording studio. His band will perform at the Sagebrush during fiesta weekend, and we'll be there to cheer him on.

Alonso

2009-04-15T10:13:00.007-05:00

On Saturday, April 12, the mesa welcomed a new member. Alonso was born at 8:30 a.m., wobbling on his spindly little legs a few moments later, and within an hour was sporting a jaunty red jacket. His mom, Val, was doing fine, despite the fact that the birth took place outside the normal 10:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. birthing window (anything too much earlier or later would have been a sign of fetal distress and very dangerous for the mother and baby). Karen, the alpaca herd's owner, was out of town, so our neighbor Maggie was responsible for checking the afterbirth to see that it had been properly delivered (watchdog Lars ate the whole thing soon afterward, making sure that no coyote-attracting scraps remained). Maggie also had to put iodine on Alonso's new belly button to prevent infection. This was Maggie's second "solo" delivery, and this time she was much less panicked about the whole thing (frequent phone contact with Karen helped to ease her worries, too). By the time we visited Alonso, he was six hours old and seemed quite content with all the attention from his mom, who made constant cooing and clicking sounds. Alonso's many aunties (Maggie calls them the sister-wives) gathered around too, giving licks and nuzzles and surrounding him with warmth on this cold, rainy day.

Alonso and Val:

With the sister-wives:

Hard Times

2009-04-15T08:50:00.009-05:00

Besides the fact that a repairman will now answer his phone on the first ring and show up at your house within the hour, there are other signs that the recession has finally reached Taos. The saddest and most obvious are the empty storefronts. In a small town with few storefronts to begin with, the darkened windows of once-booming tourist shops, art galleries, beauty salons, cafés, and restaurants cast an eerie pall over the Taos Plaza and nearby streets. While there were a fair number of people gallery-browsing and walking their dogs near the Plaza on a warm April day, we still had the feeling that a major change had taken place. The lead story in the Taos News last week outlined how the recession had turned the local housing market upside-down, and for the first time ever, the glossy real estate insert listed several foreclosures on every page. On the bright side our favorite restaurant, Sushi Hattori, was packed with locals at lunchtime. But even this very popular place, which had stopped advertising years ago because it couldn't handle more than thirty customers at a time, now displays its own placard on the big wooden sign at the Overland Ranch complex.

It's tempting to think that punctual repairmen and no more condos are great things for Taos, but many Taoseños struggle with unemployment in the best of times. For their sake, we hope that the economy will bounce back sooner than expected and that a "closed" sign will simply mean that the owner has stepped out for a quick lunch.

Winter Scenes

2009-01-23T15:04:00.006-06:00

On the grounds of the Overland Ranch near our favorite restaurant, Sushi Hattori:

In Ranchos de Taos:

I Can't Believe We Shoveled the Whole Thing

2009-01-07T17:38:00.010-06:00

After a fourteen-inch snowfall on January 4, Steve and I shared our shovel, and the result (four hours later) looked like this:

The mesa hasn't seen this much snow since the early eighties. Here's Las Mañanitas after the storm:

We could barely see the tops of the surrounding sage:

Luckily there were no guests in Maggie's casita the night of the storm:

All Hands (and an ATV) On Deck

2008-12-29T16:11:00.002-06:00

When we arrived in Taos the other day, we knew the area had been through a snowstorm recently, but as we drove along the snow-packed road to our house, we didn't think there was any more snow than usual at this time of year. We were cruising along Mesa Sea, which is normally a pretty bumpy road, at a record pace, since all the ruts were nicely filled in with snow. There was lots of merriment and ho-ho-hoing as we turned into our driveway--and then it happened. The low-slung Chevy Malibu that Hertz had bestowed on us got stuck in a snowdrift, and even with Strongman Steve pushing as I ground the gears, we couldn't budge it.

We soon attracted the attention of several Mesa Sea residents whom we'd never met before. The first to come along was Tony, an Isleta puebloan. He joined Steve in pushing, but they still couldn't move the car. Next to lend a hand was the wife of the reclusive Minnesota couple who lives nearby; she returned home to fetch her husband for more he-man strength. By the time Mr. Reclusive Minnesota showed up, two men with an ATV loaded onto their pickup truck had already offered their snowplowing services, which we gratefully accepted. For eighty bucks, Francisco and Carlos cleared our driveway with a blade attached to their ATV and had no trouble pushing our car out of the drift.

As our snowplowing saviors were doing their thing, a woman drove to the base of our driveway, hopped out of her truck and said, "You must be Beth and Steve!" She turned out to be Sue, the owner of the Anasazi ruin house, who just that morning had been helping our neighbor Maggie dig out of our driveway. Maggie had kindly agreed to turn on our house heat the night before and had gotten stuck in the very same snowdrift that captured our car. Maggie had to leave her car there overnight and wait for some neighborly help to pull it out.

Francisco and Carlos, lifelong residents of Arroyo Hondo, informed us that this was the most snow they'd seen on the mesa since the early eighties. No one else on Mesa Sea remebers seeing anything close to this much snow, and certainly we never imagined needing to have our driveway plowed. But as I write this, the temperature has soared to nearly fifty degrees, and we've been able to take our morning walks along Mesa Sea with our gloves off and our coats unzipped--so maybe our main reasons for choosing Taos as our retirement destination (natural beauty and mild winters) aren't so farfetched after all.

Giving Thanks

2008-12-01T14:48:00.007-06:00

Our first Thanksgiving on the mesa was a quiet affair--just me, Steve, and a nine-pound turkey. The weather was cloudy and cold, but not too cold for walking along new and improved Mesa Sea. For the first time ever, we stayed at home two days in a row without venturing into town. A kiva fire kept us warm, and two good books kept us from getting restless. Steve's book, The Replacement Child, was a mystery by first-time novelist Christine Barber which centers on a murder at the Taos Gorge Bridge. With that crime in mind, we drove over the bridge the day before Thanksgiving and hiked along the West Rim trail. Thankfully there were no dead bodies, just a few college students and a sweet little dog. Steve kindly posed for a picture on that warm and sunny day:

My book, The Elegance of the Hedgehog, is a wonderful story involving a French concierge, a suicidal twelve-year-old, and a wealthy Japanese gentleman. The author, Muriel Barbery, tackles Art, Beauty, and the Meaning of Life, with a little phenomenology and medieval philosophy thrown in for good measure, but the story is so charming that you're not at all put off by the characters' ruminations on such weighty topics.

After two sunless days, we woke up Saturday morning to find a sparkling blue sky and a dusting of snow:

This looks like the beginning of a new tradition for us, and we hope to spend many more Thanksgivings in Taos.

Now We Can Drive Our Boxster Here, Too

2008-10-18T15:39:00.008-05:00

A few weeks ago, a guest arrived at our neighbor Maggie's casita in his brand-new Porsche. Horrified at the condition of the dirt road (our beloved Mesa Sea), and not wanting to risk further damage to his car, he told Maggie that he'd have to cancel his stay. But after a few margaritas and a sunset soak in the casita's hot tub, he had a change of heart. He decided to rent a car for the week, and when it was time to leave, he hired a tow truck to haul his car back to the main road.

Had that guest delayed his visit for a few weeks, he would have been delighted to find a newly-paved County Road B-007 leading to Mesa Sea:
And the deeply-rutted, close-to-impassable Mesa Sea is now a navigable thoroughfare, thanks to a mysterious road-grading fairy who kindly leveled the road and created a drainage ditch in anticipation of the runoff from next spring's snowmelt:

Although drivers on Mesa Sea may still encounter some problems (due mainly to heavy construction vehicles on a less-than-100%-dry surface), the road is greatly improved. After the successful paving of B-007, residents are hoping to convince Taos County to take over the maintenance of Mesa Sea, making that Sea of Mud a thing of the past.

A Tree Grows in Española

2008-10-16T12:21:00.022-05:00

Today we went to the Faraway, Georgia O'Keeffe's word for the area around Abiquiu, New Mexico, the site of her home and studio. On this lovely fall day, we were glad to have made reservations weeks in advance for the guided tour of her home. Like all O'Keeffe fans, I was thrilled to see the actual patio door that inspired her to buy the house and was later the subject of twenty-some paintings. Our guide led us through her 200-year-old adobe home and gave a thorough history of the home's origins and the artist's life. We couldn't take notes or carry purses, much less take pictures, so our memories will have to suffice.

As we were leaving the area, we drove by the Chama River, which O'Keeffe captured so perfectly. Our photo doesn't quite do it justice:We worked up an appetite after hiking the Chimney Rock trail at Ghost Ranch, so we headed to El Paragua, a restaurant in Española that had always intrigued us. It's just off the main road, and every time we'd passed it on our way to Chimayo we wondered if it was still in business, since it had the forlorn look of a place long past its heyday. But when we arrived at 6:30, the place was jumping with people crowding around the bar and families, couples, and large groups vying for tables. The noise level and warren-like arrangement of rooms reminded us of our local Buca di Beppo in St. Paul, but even Buca's over-the-top decor couldn't compete with this, which we discovered on our way to the restrooms:The verdict on El Paragua? The margaritas were strong, the salsa hot, and the enchiladas just right, but we still prefer the treeless Guadalajara Grill in Taos, where we can have fabulous Mexican food for half the price.

Obamanos

2008-10-16T12:15:00.012-05:00

Last night we watched the third and final presidential debate at the home of our friend, Ann, along with several other Taosenos. Ann is the only one among us who has a working TV, so we prevailed on her to let us come to her loft in town. To thank Ann for providing a TV, we brought food and drink and had a lively pot luck dinner while Obama and McCain slugged it out.

Four thousand new voters recently registered in Taos County, and we're pretty sure that most of them will vote for Obama. In fact, northern New Mexico is the source of the new slogan for his campaign aimed at the area's Hispanic voters: Obamanos! We've seen the signs everywhere, including this one in Arroyo Seco:The yard signs are hard to come by, but our neighbors Kris and Ginger managed to score one at Taos Paint. It's not the official one (Spanish speakers will note the lack of the upside-down exclamation point before the O), but it'll do:K & G kindly gave us the sign to take back to Minnesota since they live in Houston and know that it will be absolutely useless there. We're happy to display it in our yard; the neighbors on our blue street will appreciate the sentiment.

Visions of Early Retirement

2008-09-22T15:17:00.004-05:00

If only that pot of gold were a little bit closer...

Summer Rituals

2008-08-22T14:30:00.013-05:00

We've been spending summers in Taos now for five years--long enough to count our favorite repeated activities as rituals, most of which involve these chairs:The first rite of summer is the July 4th parade in Arroyo Seco. This is the event for left-leaning, free-spirited, environmentally-aware locals (and a few tourists) who like a dose of politics with their patriotism. In 2004 we saw Rumsfeld in an orange prison jumpsuit and ankle chains carrying a placard declaring himself to be a war criminal. This year everyone cheered as the Obamamobile drove by, with big-headed Barack waving at the crowd. We try to arrive early enough to set up our chairs in a prime viewing spot, but the downside is that we then become targets for all those squirt gun-bearing kids on the floats.

Ritual number two is the Santa Fe Wine Festival on the grounds of El Rancho de las Golondrinas south of town. We leave our chairs at home for this event; the only time we sit down is to have lunch under the big tent. We were very disappointed this year to find that our favorite green chile cheeseburger booth was missing in action and had to console ourselves with big gulps of Ponderosa Winery's Redondo Red.

The next big event--my favorite--is the Taos Pow Wow. This is a major gathering of Indian nations: Pueblo, Navajo, Hopi, Zuni, Apache, Lakota, Mandan, Cheyenne, and Ute. The governor of the Taos Pueblo always makes a moving speech about our shared responsibility to care for Mother Earth, then gives a blessing in the Tewa language. Next, the master of ceremonies introduces the dancers as they enter the arena and move in a circle to the mesmerizing drumbeat, and the audience is asked to remove their hats as a sign of respect. We stand under the shady ramada crafted from willow branches (taos is the Tewa word for red willow) and watch the dancers, trying to guess which ones will win cash prizes for their costumes. During a pause in the proceedings we rush to one of the food booths to get our yearly fix of Navajo fry bread. As the July sun beats relentlessly down on our bare heads, we promise ourselves that next year we'll arrive in time to set up our chairs under the ramada.

The final chair-toting ritual is the chile cook-off in Red River. This event is a bittersweet one; it's held in mid-August on the weekend before our return to Real Life, and we're always a little melancholy as we scarf down our green, red, bison, oryx, elk, and Jack Daniels-infused chile samples.

All of these rituals (not to mention margaritas on the deck, two or three hikes up to Williams Lake, and morning walks on Mesa Sea) are what make summer in Taos so enjoyable, and knowing that we'll be doing the same things next year sustains us through the horrendous northern winter months.

Under the Taos Sun

2008-07-01T17:50:00.007-05:00

We will be forever grateful to our friend, Deonne, for convincing us to hang out with her on the last day of the Taos Solar Music Festival. We've always been in town during Solar Fest but until this year were never inclined to attend. We don't follow the contemporary music scene, so the performers weren't very familiar to us. This year was no different, but with Deonne as our guide, we had a terrific time. The venue, Kit Carson Park, is perfect for this smallish outdoor festival, and we could get close enough to the stage to feel a connection with the musicians. From now on, whenever anyone mentions Allison Moorer, Plena Libre, Steve Earle, or Susan Tedeschi, we'll be able to nod knowingly.

We managed not to consume any alcohol during the concert but made up for that when we returned home. It was Deonne's last evening as a full time resident of Taos--she was leaving for New York the very next morning--so we toasted her last few hours on the mesa with pink champagne. We'll miss her terribly, but we know she'll have a fabulous new life in the Big Apple.

Detour de France

2008-06-20T10:08:00.039-05:00

Usually we're in Taos in mid-June, but this year, thanks to free frequent-flyer tickets, we've decided to take a little detour to Provence and Paris, linking up with Lynne and Robert, my sister and brother-in-law, along the way.

Day 1: Leg Room
How's this for an auspicious beginning: no extra charge for being seated in United Economy Plus (normally $94/person each way), and we've got the same seats on the return trip. The extra five inches prove that size does matter. Plus, our flight attendant feels sheepish about spilling water on Steve's pants, so gives us free glasses of champagne.

At the Nice airport, we pick up our rental car--a free upgrade to a super-sized Toyota Corolla which will seat two more passengers comfortably. We drive along the Cote d'Azur to our hotel in Villefranche-sur-Mer and find that our room has been updated with all the mod-cons: flat screen TV, hardwood floors, fabulous bathroom with sea view and bowl-on-the-counter sink (impractical but tres chic). By now it's 3:30 and we walk to town to scout out the restaurants for tonight's dinner--it's the first ever arrival in France when we haven't felt jet-lagged--and return to our hotel with a split of champagne, which we sip on the terrace overlooking the harbor.

Dinner is at Le Cafe Cosmo, a moderately-priced restaurant with lovely sea views. Across the street is the Chappelle de Sainte-Marie painted inside and out by Jean Cocteau as a gift to the fishermen of Villefranche. We return to our hotel at 9:00 and collapse into bed as the sun sets over the Mediterranean.

Day 2: Dude, Where's My Cabana Boy?
After a fruitless search for a private beach with loungers and umbrellas, we buy a serviette de plage for Steve (I've brought my own beach towel) and stake out a spot on the sand. Two years ago we had a very different beach experience here, involving cute waiters, champagne and salad. Are we more jet-lagged than we think, or didn't there used to be a little cinder block snack-shack and rental chaises longues lined up three rows deep on this very patch of plage? Oh well. Steve takes a dip in the Med while I photograph an adorable French baby eating sand. My tolerance for baking in the sun sans parasol is limited, so we leave after thirty minutes.

We console ourselves with a relaxing lunch of pizza and wine in the old town, retrieve our car from the hotel, and drive to the Villa Ephrussi on Cap Ferrat. The Rothschild lady who owned this perfectly pink property loved sea views and gardens, and now we all get to see how the mega-rich lived in the early 20th century.

Later tonight, while watching TV, we come across a documentary titled La Betonnerie de la Cote d'Azur about overly-zealous entrepreneurs who've endangered the coast's beaches by building too close to the shoreline and the small group of eco-minded people who are leading a crusade against "cementization." Apparently these anti-cement folks are making slow but steady progress, and we cheer them on. After all, the beaches along the Med are among the loveliest on the planet, and who needs these ugly buildings anyway? Then the camera pans to a bulldozer smashing into a concrete monstrosity, and we realize that it's attacking our very own Snack Shack. "Wait!" we shout at the screen. "Can't you guys make an exception for our petit batiment de cinder block? It's not taking up all that much space. And what about the cute young waiters? Where will they find work if you take away their livelihood?" Discouraged, we turn off the TV, knowing that we will never again enjoy the luxury of champagne and salad on Villefranche's beach unless we bring our own pique-nique basket.

Day 3: Salade Nicoise
Nice is nice, especially now that tracks have been laid throughout the city for a new tramway. We walk from the train station to the stunning Place Massena, then weave our way to the Cours Saleya in Vieux Nice. This Monday morning an antique market fills the entire space with books, jewelry, furniture, and other bric-a-brac. We spot Matisse's one-time home at the top of the Cours, then order that famous salade at the cheerful Pizzeria du Cours:

Day 4: Daube
We say au revoir to Villefranche as we drive along the coast toward Nice. At Cagnes-sur-Mer we turn north into the hills above the coast in the direction of Vence. Our goal this morning is the Chapel of the Rosary, Matisse's masterpiece. Matisse designed everything in the chapel, from the chalice to the priest's vestments; the east and west-facing windows and the drawings on the tiled walls are delightfully simple, unmistakably Matisse. A Dominican sister gives us a detailed description of the chapel's interior, admonishing latecomers for chattering during her lecture.

We drive through the gorgeous Gorges-du-Loup, stopping along the way to tour the Confiserie Florian, a candy factory whose specialty is candied fruit. A delightful young French girl takes us on a guided tour, and we sample all sorts of goodies, from chocolate-covered violets to lavender jam and mimosa syrup. We buy almonds dipped in the most delicious mixture of honey and chocolate, as well as a bag of chocolate-covered orange peels. From there we drive to the hilltop village of Gourdon and eat lunch at La Taverne Provencal, where Steve has the best daube--France's version of beef stew--of his life. We marvel at the views from the terrace, perched 2500 feet above the valley, where we can see all the way to the Mediterranean:

Day 5: Vive le Rock and Roll
We can't check into Saint-Barthelemy (our bed and breakfast in Pernes-les-Fontaines) until late afternoon, so we pass the time at St. Remy's market, one of the biggest in Provence. Jean-Pierre, our favorite vendor, is in his usual spot selling used CDs. We recall that he and his wife take frequent trips to Las Vegas, so we we ask him if he's been there recently. He tells us that he went there last July to visit a friend who lives in a house previously owned by a member of Carlos Santana's band. As we leave his stall, he hands us his business card which shows our friend wearing a purple cowboy hat. The bottom of the card proclaims "God Bless America" against a backdrop of the American flag and a bald eagle, leading us to think we've found Steven Colbert's Provencal cousin. The most surprising feature of his card, however, is the inscription above the American flag in bright red letters: President, Jerry Lee Lewis Fan Club.

Day 6: She looks like a Nathalie
We pick up Lynne and Robert in Aix-en-Provence and follow the Route de Cezanne to the tiny village of Le Tholonet, about 3 km. out of town. Cezanne often walked to the village from Aix to paint his landscapes of Mont Sainte-Victoire and the surrounding countryside. Knowing that Robert was on a pilgrimage of sorts to follow in Cezanne's footsteps, Steve and I are hoping to find a suitable spot for a picnic with a view of the artist's mountain.

Our search leads us to the extensive grounds of the Association of Canals and Dams of Provence, behind which is a hill that looks promising. Robert sees a young lady walking toward us and rushes up to her, hoping that his limited French will suffice for the task at hand. When communication breaks down, I step in and ask her if we're on the right path. She tells me that, malheureusement, we are on private property and must go elsewhere. Then she asks if we want to hike, and I explain that our top priority is lunch, preferably in a joli endroit with a view of Mont Sainte-Victoire.

"If you'll wait just a few minutes," she says, " I'll get my car and you can follow me to a place a few kilometers from here. I'm on my lunch hour now, but this shouldn't take too long." We drive behind her along the twisting narrow road that skirts the mountain and within five minutes have arrived at the Domaine des Roches. It's immediately clear that this is the paradise we've been seeking: under the shade of tall pines are several beautiful stone-topped tables, and beyond the picnic area are trails leading to the mountain. We ask our new French friend to join us, but she politely declines, wishing us bon apetit and bonne journee. We can't believe our luck at having found such a friendly, accommodating stranger without whose help we never would have found this perfect place, graced by the spirit of Cezanne.

Our pique-nique in the pines:

On the trail to Cezanne's mountain:

Day 7: Happy Anniversary

Today is Friday, June 13, a lucky day for us because it is our 32nd anniversary. Jacqueline, the owner of our bed and breakfast, has booked a table for the four of us at the Domaine de la Camarette, a small inn and restaurant just across the road from St.-Barthelemy. She tells us it's been open less than six weeks and relies solely on word of mouth for its customers--there are no signs or advertisements of any sort. The attraction of the new place, Jacqueline adds, is the incroyable price of 28 euros for its prix-fixe menu which includes an aperitif, appetizer, main course, dessert, and unlimited wine. Since La Camarette is a working farm, nearly all the ingredients are home-grown, and the wine--not AOC, but good vin de table--comes from the vineyard that surrounds the farmhouse.

We arrive at 7:30 and are greeted by the friendly young chef. There are places set for about twenty guests, and the simple decor--a few potted plants, an old buffet, whitewashed walls--makes us feel at home. Still we are a little intimidated because the other guests (only six so far) are so quiet. We've brought our camera and want to take a picture, but we feel self-conscious until the chef's wife comes to our table and says in bubbly, perfect English, "I see it's picture time! Give me your camera and I'll take a group photo."

As she serves our aperitif--tonight it's walnut wine--she explains that the vineyard has been in her family for three generations. Her parents have paid to renovate the farmhouse and convert it into an inn, which she and her husband now manage. They are in their late twenties, enthusiastic, and totally charming; surely everyone in Pernes-les-Fontaines will want to promote their success. The chef brings our appetizer to the table and explains in English (both he and his wife studied in the US) that the item next to our three zucchini and cheese raviolis is a stuffed squash blossom. We wash it all down with bottles of rose and white wine, poured into glasses that say "Vins de pays, c'est okay!" (Regional wine, it's good!). We toast our respective marriages several times before the main course arrives (Lynne and Robert have decided to celebrate their 36 years of wedded bliss tonight, too; their November anniversary slipped between the cracks of their son's fall birthday and Thanksgiving).

By now the dining room is full and much more lively, since a party of eight French women has been seated at the table next to ours. The main course is a tian d'agneau (lamb medallion) served with polenta and haricots verts. The chef happily complies with our request for red wine, which is also produced on the estate. The lamb is unbelievably tender, and the serving is just the right size. Dessert is cleverly presented in three cups of varying sizes. Cup #1--the smallest--is filled with homemade vanilla and caramel ice cream, #2 contains a blackberry mousse, and #3 has a medley of nuts and fresh fruit. There are also four nefles on a table, a peculiar apple-like fruit that translates as "medlar." (Idiomatically, to give someone des nefles is to give him nothing at all--the French equivalent of zippity-doo-dah.)

The chef's wife offers coffee or tea at the end of the meal, but we ask for one more glass of walnut wine instead. Since Lynne and Robert graciously insist on treating us to this memorable dinner, we pay des nefles and float back to our bed and breakfast on a cloud of contentment.

The Easter sisters exchange pre-dinner bunny gifts:

Dinner at the Domaine de la Camarette:

Days 8, 9, 10: Music, History, Geography
Normally we'd eat breakfast outdoors under the willow tree, but a cold wind has been blowing these past few days and has driven everyone inside. With room for only six at the dining room table, we eat in shifts, and our hostess Jacqueline is more inclined to sit and chat.

Our first indoor breakfast features Provencal music on the CD player, mostly comic songs sung in a mixture of French and Provencal. Jacqueline translates the lyrics for those of us who don't speak Provencal , and we all have a good laugh.

The next morning, when Lynne and I admire the red and yellow dishes on Jacqueline's table, she invites us into her kitchen to show us all of her lovely pottery, which was produced in the village of Dieulefit (Dyew-le-fee). She explains that Dieulefit is "une ville juste" (a righteous village). During the German occupation, Dieulefit sheltered 2,000 Jews, communists, writers, and other subversives, all of whom would have been executed by the Nazis or sent to concentration camps. The city fathers created fake ID papers for everyone, and not a single resident revealed the secret. The town had a long history of tolerance--Catholics and Protestants had lived together peacefully for over 200 years.

Our final morning in the bed and breakfast takes a different turn. Steve and I listen politely as the two other couples--one from Nice and the other from Brussels--discuss the merits of their hometowns with Jacqueline. The Nicois couple asserts the superiority of the Cote d'Azur over Provence: "We have the mountains, the sea, and Brigitte Bardot."

Jacqueline counters that Provence has not only the mountains and the sea, but France's second largest city, Marseilles. Soon a great argument ensues, with the Belgians and the Nicois joining forces against Jacqueline, proclaiming that it is Lyon, not Marseilles, that is number two.

"Everyone knows," says monsieur le Belge, "that it's Paris-Lyon-Marseilles, NOT Paris-Marseilles-Lyon!"

"You're just thinking of the TGV!" Jacqueline responds, referring to the high-speed train route from Paris to the Mediterranean. Most people these days would use Google to settle the dispute, but Jacqueline runs to fetch her trusty LaRousse. She reads triumphantly from the mega-dictionary, noting that Marseilles edges out Lyon by a few hundred people.

"Your dictionary is mauvais!" declares monsieur le Nicois, and just when things could take a nasty turn, everyone bursts out laughing. The two couples say that Jacqueline must be a Marseillaise herself, but she assures them that she's from a "tres petit village" far from Marseilles. We all try to guess her hometown but soon give up, and finally she names it: Dieulefit.

Jacqueline and Serge's 17th century guest house, St. Barthelemy:
Days 11 and 12: Thirty Hours in Paris
Arrive 4 p.m., check into hotel, go to favorite cafe, drink kir, eat frites, observe Sorbonne students at neighboring tables, walk along Seine, cross Pont Neuf, walk to Louvre, Louvre should be open until 9:45 p.m. but is closed, cross back to Left Bank on Pont des Arts, take pictures of designer wedding dresses in shop window, go to Italian restaurant in Latin Quarter, collapse in hotel room.

Next day: Decide to wear fashionable shoes instead of sensible walking shoes, eat huge hotel breakfast, note perfect weather, walk to rue Mouffetard in Latin Quarter, put 2 euros in hat of binou-playing street musician, photograph honor guard on steps of Pantheon, return to hotel to pee, note perfect weather, take picture of Steve next to giant bronze head in Luxembourg Gardens, walk to Rodin Museum, eat huge lunch in museum garden, walk toward Eiffel Tower, fill out form to win tiny European car, pass under Eiffel Tower, note sore feet, walk to Palais de Chaillot on Right Bank, note sore feet, chat with beautiful tall black London girls, photograph selves with E. T. in background, return to Left Bank, note sore feet, board BatoBus, ride down Seine to Notre Dame, return to hotel, change into sensible shoes, return to favorite cafe, curse loud American woman at next table, drink two rounds of kir, walk tipsily though Luxembourg Gardens to Montparnasse, eat huge dinner at crepe restaurant, curse loud American man at next table, speak French during entire meal in attempt to fool loud American man, return to hotel, watch French national soccer team crash and burn, pack bags, fall fast asleep with smiles on faces.

The Pont des Arts:

Designer wedding dress:

Binou player on rue Mouffetard:

Steve with Big Head Todd in the Luxembourg Gardens:

That famous tower:

Aboard the BatoBus on the Seine:

Notre Dame Cathedral:

My Dream Life

2008-03-28T00:45:00.008-05:00

I wake up with the sun streaming insistently through the gaps in the shades. It's a little after nine o'clock--time for yoga in the guest bedroom. I follow Rodney Yee through his gentle series of exercises, then dress for my daily walk. It's still cool outside, about forty-five degrees. Steve comes with me, and we walk down the driveway, marveling at the lovely contrast of the snow-capped mountains against the crisp blue sky. We stroll along our horribly rutted road, trying to find some level ground. First we wave to Ginger who's on her deck, drinking her morning coffee. Then we walk past the funky homes of Mesa Sea: folksinger Jenny Bird's eponymous Birdland, the older adobe with the round window, the two-story home of the reclusive Minnesotans, the hippie shack with the friendly dogs, the manufactured home on its sadly barren lot, Jo's elegant straw bale, and finally, about a mile down the road, we come to Karl and Maria's place. Their dog, Roy, greets us on the driveway, and we find Maria working in the garden. She invites us in for coffee, and we chat with her and Karl for an hour or so. The sunroom of their huge rammed earth house is comfortable and warm.

We return home for a late breakfast on the deck.

Then we head into town for a round of errands: grocery shopping at Cid's, checking email at Wired, getting caulk and mouse bait at Ace Hardware. By now it's two o'clock--time for the Happy Hour lunch special at Taco Bell. We order two soft tacos and a medium drink for $2.49, which we share. There are a few late-afternoon chores to do when we get home: laundry (me), window caulking (Steve), and weeding (both). We consider having our own happy hour, but decide to save our drinking for the Adobe Bar, where we'll be spending the evening. Our neighbor and dear friend, Deonne, has suggested we go there together tonight, as this is not only Open Mic night, but the best of Open Mic. As the music critic for the arts magazine of the Taos News, she's familiar with many of the musicians and is sure we'll enjoy it. Also, she needs to make a major decision and wants our input.

We arrive at the Adobe Bar at six o'clock, find a great table, and order margaritas and dinner. Soon the drinks begin to have the desired effect, and Deonne tells us that she needs to decide by tomorrow morning which MFA writing program to attend--Vermont College or Queens College in New York. She outlines the pros and cons of each, but it seems she's leaning slightly in favor of Queens. (She has just launched a new blog today, announcing her intention to go to Vermont, but that was before she was notified later this morning of her acceptance at Queens). We think Queens sounds like the better choice, but we'll have to wait until tomorrow to hear her final decision. Meanwhile, the music has begun. As it turns out, this is not the Best of Open Mic (that will be next month), but, with the exception of a few clunkers, the musicians are pretty darn good. A woman named Lisa, whom we'd met at Maria's New Year's Eve party, is doing her first open mic performance tonight, and she's a little nervous. She joins us at our table and suddenly realizes that she's left her music stand in her car. She runs out to get it, and while she's gone our next-door neighbor, Ginger, takes her place. We listen as a toothpick-thin punk guy bangs on the piano singing "Trash yard, trash yard, come and see my trash yard," followed by Mike Hogan, a Taos legend, doing amazing things with his guitar. A young man builds layers of rhythm with some sort of electronic playback device, and a much older gentleman does a fair job of singing while playing a beautiful handmade guitar built by a local resident who's sitting in the front row. Somewhere during this musical free-for-all, I realize that I'm supremely happy; life just doesn't get any better than this. Then Lisa takes the stage, having retrieved her music stand, and sings three songs, including an original composition, with a lovely, confident voice. We applaud loudly and offer our congratulations with handshakes and hugs. She seems both elated and relieved, and goes off with two friends for a late dinner.

We stay at the bar, talking with Ginger and Deonne, until closing time. Ginger wonders aloud if Taos will always seem this wonderful when she and her husband Kris move here semi-permanently. Steve and I believe, and Ginger agrees, that adjusting to small-town life will be a challenge, but the beauty of our surroundings and the friendliness of the community will compensate for the loss of urban diversions (besides, there's always Santa Fe). The three of us note the irony of being impatient to settle here while our friend Deonne can't wait to leave! In any case, we've shared a wonderful evening, and we can't imagine a time when our dream life wouldn't include watching the sunrise over the mountains or the moonrise on the mesa.

Pilgrims

2008-03-27T00:47:00.008-05:00

We are very fortunate to be in northern New Mexico during Holy Week, and doubly blessed to be in Chimayo on the Thursday before Easter. This is the time when thousands of people make a pilgrimage to El Santuario de Chimayo, either on foot or on horseback. They come from communities as far away as Albuquerque, traveling alone or with friends and family. Most make the journey without any motorized assistance, although some older folks travel part of the way by bus. They are helped by others at roadside stands who offer water, food, or a shady spot to rest. As we drive by groups of pilgrims, we are moved by their devotion.

The church, built in 1815, is believed to be a place of healing. The room beside the altar has a small hole in the floor filled with holy dirt, a spoonful of which can be taken and used to cure any sort of ailment. There are other pilgrimage sites in this part of the country, but none have the beauty and serenity of Chimayo.

Neighborly Pictures

2008-01-30T15:48:00.002-06:00

Check out these photos of Las Mañanitas taken by some of our neighbors.

This was taken in September by Karl and Maria. We weren't there to see the asters in bloom, so we're very glad that they got them on film.
This one was taken one early December morning by Kris:
And this was taken by Maggie in July, 2005 during a thunderstorm::

Happy 2008!

2008-01-18T12:42:00.002-06:00

We rang in the New Year at the straw-bale home of Maria the Buddhist, an artist and massage therapist who lives in the tiny enclave of El Rito, near the Colorado border. We danced to the rock 'n roll music of the El Rito Rhythm Kings, whom we'd heard (and met) in October at the Adobe Bar. When the band took a break, I chatted with lead singer Viv about how she'd met her husband, John, and she talked a little bit about the radio show that they host called Art of the Song. Our friends Jim and Rebecca tell us that house parties with live bands are fairly common in Taos, so we hope this will be the first of many for us.

We awoke on New Year's Day to find that our pipes had frozen sometime during the extremely cold night. By 10:00 a.m. the water was running again (thank God), and we decided to follow the Japanese tradition of a New Year's bath in our little soaking tub.

The rest of our stay (when Steve wasn't on the roof) consisted mostly of taking morning walks on Mesa Sea and visiting friends. Steve and I lit the farolitos again, but the wind blew them out after five minutes. I managed to get a few blurry pictures anyway:

And Steve took this picture of a winter-pink sunset:

We had another hootenanny with Ginger and Kris:while Miss Ruby relaxed under the tree.
Toward the end of our stay our neighbor, Deonne, treated us to a delicious dinner of paella and bread pudding at her lovely and enviably leak-free home. The following night we invited Maggie, Mary, and Karen to our house for lasagne. Some of our best mesa evenings are spent with these neighbors, especially when the conversation turns to the latest news about the local dogs and the alpacas. This time we learned that Lars, the Great Pyrenees, has started to pick up his oversized dog dish and carry it across the road to the Pueblo land to eat his dinner in peace. And Haley, the naughtiest alpaca, recently spewed green slime on one of Maggie's casita guests, an unsuspecting nine-year-old boy who thought it would be fun to feed her by hand.

Flaws and all, we love our Hondo Mesa home and can't wait to return.

Christmas in Taos

2008-01-18T12:30:00.001-06:00

Three giant banners proclaiming Peace On Earth greeted us as we drove along bumpy County Road B007 to Mesa Sea. A lovely sentiment, but what we liked even more were the mini-banners underneath arranged in Burma-Shave fashion:

Raven and Rabbit

Cedar and Sage

Singing in Solstice

Sun Touching

Hearts and Hearths

On Our Hondo Mesa Home

We entered our Hondo Mesa home to find a few troubling leaks. Even though Steve had patched the roof thoroughly in October (or so he thought), the freeze-thaw cycle of snow and ice opened a few vulnerable spots around the canales, allowing water to seep down the walls and stain the plaster. Steve spent an hour or two nearly every day of our three-week stay sealing the seams with roof cement. This winter an unusual amount of heavy wet snow has fallen on the mesa, and we're keeping our fingers crossed that those patches will hold until our next visit in March. We'll try the patch-and-pray method one more winter; then it'll be time for a new roof.

Christmas was truly remarkable, despite the roof worries. First, there was our genuine New Mexican Christmas tree--a white fir nearly ten feet tall:

Then Drew, Liz, and Lyra arrived, just in time to make farolitos,
drink a little bubbly,
and play Christmas carols on their guitars.We enjoyed the Christmas Eve festivities at Taos Pueblo (no cameras allowed), a few movies, a new card game, our favorite board game, Scene It, and dinner at Hunan Restaurant. The morning of their departure was crisp and sunny:
and we waved goodbye as the Mini chugged along Mesa Sea, headed back to Las Vegas.

Too Much Fun

2007-10-15T13:39:00.002-05:00

What a great fall vacation we had in Taos! The first night there, we went to the Adobe Bar and heard fabulous music played by the El Rito Rhythm Kings. Viv, the group's lead singer, was belting out "Chain of Fools" as we walked in, and continued to rock the house for the next hour or so (we entered the bar late into their last set). It turns out that Viv spent five years of her childhood in our hometown of Birmingham, MI--her father was the rector at Christchurch, Cranbrook, and the family lived on Chesterfield. Her husband, John, is from Toledo; he's the band's lead guitarist and also builds guitars for a living. They're hosting a concert at their house on New Year's Eve, and we've been invited to attend. They live in El Rito, which is just up the road from Jim and Rebecca's home in Cerro. It's a bit of a drive from our house, but John and Viv assured us that they like to go to bed early, so the party will be ending well before midnight, which suits us fine.

On Sunday, we drove to Cerro so that Steve and Jim could watch the New England Patriots defeat the Dallas Cowboys. While the guys were vegging out in front of the TV, Rebecca and I went to Wild Rivers to do a little hiking. We saw a few mule deer:and hiked part of the way down the gorge where the Red River flows into the Rio Grande:The scenery was spectacular, especially on this lovely fall day.

On Monday evening we drove with Ginger to the home of her artist friend, Ann Cole, who lives in a loft above Bryan's Gallery on Kit Carson Road. Ann was getting a little lonely in Des Montes, where she'd been living for the last eight years, and wanted to try living in town, close to the plaza. Ann just rents the loft for now; she still owns her home on the rim road overlooking Valdez. She also has a little casita there which she rents out to tourists, and that's how Ginger and Kris came to know her. Ann's paintings range from representational pastels to abstract oils. She became an instant success after moving to Taos, gaining all sorts of recognition and winning awards for her work. She's a lively hostess, and we had a wonderful time at her place eating homemade tamales and lemon meringue pie. The view from her rooftop patio was nice, too--we could see Taos Mountain poking above the treetops.

On Tuesday, it was our turn to entertain, and we invited our neighbor Deonne over for dinner. Deonne is the music critic for Tempo, the arts magazine of the Taos News. Until recently, she was also working full time for Dimond Mortgage as a loan officer, but due to the slowdown in the housing market, she was laid off. Fortunately, she made enough of a profit from the sale of her home in San Francisco three years ago that she can afford to live as a lady of leisure. She'll be enrolling in an MFA writing program at either NM State in Las Cruces or UNM Albuquerque (depending on where she's accepted) next fall, but will still maintain her residence on Hondo Mesa. Deonne will be visiting us in Minnesota at the end of October; she and her mom are taking a road trip from Rapid City, SD to the Twin Cities to visit an old friend of her mother's. Deonne will be the first of our New Mexico friends to see us in our native habitat--should be fun.

We paid a second visit to Gutiz during this trip on Wednesday for lunch (we had breakfast there on Sunday). This time we saw 11-month-old Zola, daughter of owners Eduardo and Shawn. She's a cutie--looks just like her dad. Gutiz is always very busy, which makes Eduardo happy, but he works awfully hard.

Thursday was our day to catch up with everyone before leaving Taos. We met our friends Jim and Rebecca (not everyone we know has a web link!) for lunch at Sushi Hattori , where we had the daily special, sesame chicken. Rebecca has changed from weaving to beading, and she now makes beautiful earrings which she sells at the Questa farmers' market. She'd promised to give me a pair that she was working on when we visited them on Sunday, but instead she gave me three pairs, all with lovely color combinations and imaginative designs:The least we could do after receiving such a generous gift was treat them to lunch.

After lunch we went to Taos Peublo, which is at its most serene in the fall:

A dog posed for us just outside the courtyard of the Pueblo's San Geronimo church:

Later in the afternoon, our neighbors Maggie and Mary came over for a non-alcoholic mountain mellow hour, and then we all went to a new Italian restaurant called Pizanos. Lots of great pizza and pasta dishes are on the menu there, and we can't wait to go back in the summer and sit on the patio, which faces Pueblo land and Taos Mountain. M & M are doing well and are ready to break ground on their next project, a house on a one-acre lot adjoining the land that belongs to the fellow who lives in the little cabin-like manufactured home.

After saying goodbye to Maggie and Mary, we dropped in at the Cottonwood Inn to see our friend, Brian, who's the innkeeper there. Brian is very knowledgeable about all things green, and we discussed the advantages of converting our propane-powered radiant heating to a solar-powered system. Our neighbor Deonne changed to solar power last year and has saved nearly $2,000 in heating costs. There are federal and state rebates and tax credits as added incentives, and if we can get a reasonable bid, we'd like to switch to solar power in the summer of 2009.

Friday was a warm, clear-blue-sky day, so we decided to drive to Georgia O'Keefe country near Abiquiu to do some hiking. We'd been told by Ginger that the Chimney Rock trail at Ghost Ranch was the best, and she was absolutely right. The views from the summit were amazing, and it was wonderful to see Georgia's favorite mountain, Pedernal, up close after all these years of viewing it from 40 miles away. Some scenes from Ghost Ranch:

We went to Restaurante Rancho de Chimayo for a late lunch (the prickly pear margaritas and sopapillas are the best!) and climbed around the nearby hills to see the pretty fall colors:

Saturday was our last full day, and once again we decided to take advantage of the warm fall weather by hiking. This time we went up the Devisadero trail off Kit Carson Road in the Carson National Forest. We'd tried that same trail back in 2003, but only went halfway (guess we were less energetic then). After a fairly steep climb, we were rewarded with fabulous views of the town of Taos and beyond: I'm sure this hike will be an annual fall event from now on.

The finale of our Taos vacation was a performance of the Taos Chamber Music Group at the Taos Community Auditorium. Fortunately we'd bought tickets in advance--by 7:15 the concert was sold out. This was the TCMG's 15th anniversary, and they'd asked the Pueblo's famed flutist, Robert Mirabal, to perform with them. Of the five pieces they played, his composition called "The Ancient Language of Breath" was our favorite. (We'd met Robert's younger brother, Patrick, while at the Pueblo on Thursday; the family has a music shop there where they sell native flutes, and Patrick played a song for us. We were tempted to buy a flute but bought a pair of earrings instead!). Ginger's friend and fellow flutist, Nancy Laupheimer, is the founder/director of the TCMG, and we enjoyed seeing her play. And in one of those small-town moments, we ended up sitting next to Rafael Vega, the carpenter/sculptor who built our deck.

Leaving Taos is always hard, but this time it was all the more difficult because we ran smack into a blizzard on our way to the airport in Denver. Luckily we made our flight with lots of time to spare, but it was white-knuckle driving all the way. In the airplane on our way home, we marveled at all the things we'd managed to do in seven days and realized that we'd done more socializing in a week in Taos than we've done in Minnesota all year.

Read this!

2007-08-28T18:26:00.001-05:00

Here's why a New Mexico native now living in Minneapolis and writing for the Star Tribune thinks you should visit the Land of Enchantment.

Why We Love It Here

2007-08-06T12:47:00.001-05:00

The sunsets:

The rainbows:

Taos Mountain:

Scenes from a Visit

2007-07-11T16:53:00.000-05:00

Boomstick and Harmony made their third voyage to Las Mananitas, their second with Miss Kitty Lyra in tow. A fabulous time was had by all, beginning with umbrella drinks on the porch:

Then we went to the 4th of July parade in Arroyo Seco:

We drove the High Road to Taos and stopped to see the church at Las Trampas:

The Santa Fe Wine Festival was lots of fun:

Our friend Rebecca joined us there, too:

Our grandkitty, Miss Lyra, loved to lounge on our table:

And, in a scene from another visit, Tia and Tio enjoyed margaritas on our deck:

Lunch in Cerro

2007-07-11T16:42:00.000-05:00

Place: Cerro, a small burg of 100+ souls 30 miles north of Taos.

Setting: A back porch looking north to Ute Mountain, with the Sangre de Cristos to the east, home to J. and R. and their menagerie of four dogs, three cats, and two horses.

Menu: Campari and soda, hors d'oeuvres, chicken salad, tiramisu and fresh berries.

Ambiance: Relaxed, laughing, perfect summer afternoon.

One view from the porch:

R's bottle tree:

Spuds in horse heaven:

Looking north to Ute Mountain:

Too Close for Comfort

2007-06-28T16:20:00.000-05:00

On Monday morning, June 25, we looked out our window and saw what seemed to be a bonfire across the mesa to our west. By mid-afternoon, the bonfire had grown to a huge plume of smoke. Around 6:00 p.m., we noticed small planes flying in and out of the smoke, and through our binoculars, we could see licks of flame spreading toward a large adobe structure. As we headed out to the OBL for dinner later that evening, the smoke seemed to lessen, and by the time we returned home we saw no traces of smoke or fire. It was a huge relief to wake up on Tuesday morning and see that the fire had been contained, or so we thought.

On Tuesday afternoon, smoke was rising again and by 6:00 the fire was nearly as bad as it had been the day before, due to the high winds that blew from the west that afternoon. As the crow flies, this fire was only about 5 miles from our house. Even though the Rio Grande Gorge lies between our house and the fire, we still felt the fear that grips people in hot, dry areas during the summer. Could our little mesa community be next? Would we be able to evacuate in time if a fire started during the night? Only a few days before, we'd been saying that the fire danger must be very low this year because of all the rain. But we forgot that rain promotes the growth of grass, which easily turns to tinder when the weather turns dry.

By this morning (Thursday) the fire had been contained, but not before destroying 440 acres of Bureau of Land Management land. Fortunately no one was injured and no homes were burned--just lots of sagebrush, grass, and junipers. It turns out that the culprit was a lightning bolt that struck the Double D Ranch, which is about 5 miles west of the Gorge Bridge; the fire spread from there to the BLM land. Everyone in Taos is hoping that this is the one and only wildfire of the season.

Bugged

2007-06-25T16:22:00.000-05:00

With the unseasonably heavy rains this spring, the mesa is quite green. While we never like to complain about the rain, we have found ourselves cursing the gods for sending a plague of biting insects to the mesa. Tiny mosquitoes and other bugs have made our first few weeks here rather uncomfortable for Lord Bison. Nearly everyone has itchy bites on their legs and faces, but Steve is suffering more than most. He seems to have an allergic reaction to the bites, which have turned into large red welts on his ankles and calves. The only remedy is anti-itch cream and long pants, even in the 90-degree heat. We hope they'll fade soon so that he can return to his usual summer attire of shorts and sandals!

Open House

2007-06-25T16:07:00.001-05:00

Yesterday we hosted an open house at Las Mananitas to welcome our new neighbors, Kris and Ginger, to the mesa. Everyone had a wonderful time, especially when K. & G. brought out their instruments and treated the guests to a lovely concert of Latin jazz and a few country tunes. Some of our neighbors knew that Steve also plays guitar and persuaded him to serenade us as well. Steve was masterful as he sang "Outlaw" and "Rio Grande", with Kris' accompaniment on his twin guitar, and the guests were enraptured! With an audience of twelve, this was Steve's public debut as a singer/songwriter, and he received many compliments on his playing and his lyrics. One guest was convinced that Steve was singing about himself in "Outlaw"--but only Steve knows for sure!

Spring Forward

2007-03-28T17:49:00.000-05:00

Our longest spring break ever has been one of extreme temperatures and extreme pleasures. From Las Vegas, where we enjoyed sunny 80 degree days, to Taos, where we woke up one morning to find an inch of late season snow on the mesa, it's been a wild ride.

We began the festivities in the Fireside Lounge on the Strip:
and spent one night in a high roller's suite at Mandalay Bay:

We then journeyed east, stopping for the night in Winslow, AZ. We didn't actually stand on the corner there; instead, we sat down in the Turquoise Lounge and sampled crimson margaritas, the house specialty. We danced to the music of South by Southwest at the Sagebrush Inn in Taos, and hiked through slot canyons at Kasha-Katuwe National Monument on the Cochiti Pueblo south of Santa Fe:

We saw magnificent sunsets reflected on Taos Mountain:

and entertained friends at Las Mananitas.

We even had our roof repaired by Santos! (See "Don't Let the Snow Come Down" below for the tale of our roofing woes). We had a delicious dinner of Spanish food and drink, including tapas, sherry, and an incredible orange tart at the home of Jim and Rebecca, our former neighbors who now live in Cerro.

The spring snow that fell on the mesa made our Zen rock garden look a little prettier:

The last part of our vacation included a stop in Sedona, where we wandered among the spectacular red rocks:

At the end of our trip we returned to Las Vegas, where we climbed Exploration Peak in Mountain's Edge to see terrific nighttime views of the Strip:

And now, as I write this at the lovely Las Vegas home of our gracious hosts, Johnny Mysterio and Madame Flamingo,
I'm savoring the final moments of our fabulous spring break--and dreading the return to normal life.

The Winter of Our Discontent

2007-01-22T16:27:00.000-06:00

Steve took time out from his roof concerns to play his new guitar with our neighbor Kris. Read the blog below to get the background info for these pictures.

The wet spots around the the canale show where the ice dams were.

This upturned piece of brai was probably the main source of the leak.

Steve the Roofmeister to the rescue!

This poorly-applied brai was later re-sealed by Steve.

Brian dropped by to inspect the seals and gave Steve his seal of approval.

We sought solace at our favorite church, San Francisco de Asis.

Don't Let the Snow Come Down

2007-01-19T10:33:00.000-06:00

We're always surprised at the new sights and sounds that greet us when we arrive in Taos, whether it's the candy-pink color of the Sangre de Cristos at sunset, the lushness of the mesa after weeks of rain, or the howling coyotes just outside our bedroom at midnight. This time was no different: spectacularly scalloped clouds of bright yellow to burnt orange spanned the western sky as we drove down 522 on our way to Las Mananitas in the early evening. The deep piles of snow in front of our house weren't unexpected, since we'd heard about the storm that paralyzed parts of New Mexico and southeastern Colorado. But when we opened our front door, we were dismayed to find a large spot on the living room wall where water had seeped through. Moments later we heard a steady drip-drip-drip and then were horrified to find our dining room table covered in water. The storm that had deposited large amounts of snow in our driveway had also dumped piles of snow on our flat-roofed home--and a tiny hole somewhere in the rubberized roof coating had resulted in some severe leaks. Our only consolation was that we were there to mop up the water and rescue the table. If this had happened during one of our long absences, the damage would have been much more serious.

In the days that followed, we became well-acquainted with the phenomenon that longtime residents had warned us about: the difficulty of finding a reliable repair person. We phoned several rooofing contractors who never returned our calls, and the one person who did agree to help us called the next morning to say that his aunt was sick and he'd be unavailable for the entire week. The assisant that he promised to send in his place had to cancel because of car trouble. Two days and much hand-wringing later, a contractor named Ray showed up with Dave and Virgil, two day laboreres he'd picked up at Walmart. Ray had them shovel snow off half the roof, then said he'd come back in a few days to patch the leaks. As it turned out, Crazy Ray and his crew never returned, but they did leave behind their ladder and snow shovels. With only three days until we had to return to Minnesota, Steve took on the challenge of roof repair himself and spread gooey black roof cement in all the right places. Our friend and construction guru, Brian, dropped by to give Steve moral support, and he assured us that the seals would hold through the winter. We'll be holding our breath until our return in mid-March (and we've covered all our furniture with tarps in case any new leaks pop up).

See the blog above for pictures from this memorable visit!

Hello Kitty

2006-08-17T02:00:00.000-05:00

Recently we were fortunate enough to welcome Miss Lyra to Las Mananitas. She was a very well-behaved guest and was thoughtful enough to confine her wanderings (mostly) to floor level. She brought along her two bodyguards, Harmony and Boomstick (pictured above), and allowed them the run of the house as well. Miss Lyra was very helpful in spotting unwelcome visitors known as Winged Warriors, and was quick to point them out to her hosts, who then crushed and eliminated them. We hope that Miss Lyra will favor us with another visit in the near future.

Deck-a-dent

2006-08-10T15:44:00.002-05:00

July 10 marked the completion of our deck, built by the artist/handyman Rafael Vega. Drew and Liz helped us inaugurate the deck, and we've spent many wonderful evenings since then gazing at the mountains and enjoying Steve-the-bartender's creative concoctions.

Our deck builder's bio from the Taos News:

Ancient arts provide inspiration
Raphael Vega balances trade as an electrician with interest in metaphysical art

Although born in the canyons of New York City in 1951, Raphael Vega has spent much of his adult life in the canyons of the South-west. His parents, Antonio and Anna Maria Vega were born in Puerto Rico and are descendants of the Taino cul-ture, the first indigenous people encountered by Christopher Columbus. They moved from Puerto Rico to NYC in the 1940s.
As a child growing up in the Bronx, Vega said he was not interested in art and his parents were neither artists nor art collectors. They did not take him to museums or art gal-leries and they did not have art hanging on the walls. To this day, he has had no formal art training.
At the age of 10, he and his family moved to Patterson, N.J., about 25 minutes from mid-town Manhattan. At Eastside High School he had a substitute teacher who greatly influenced him because the teacher intro-duced him to metaphysical studies, particularly, The Third Eye by T. Lobsang Rampa.
Vega was first introduced to art during school trips to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Muse-um of Natural History, the Guggenheim Museum and Museum of the American Indian, all in New York City. These trips sparked his interest in the indigenous cultures of the Americas and inspired him to travel extensively throughout the South-west, Mexico and Guatemala, studying the art, architecture and ceremony of these people. These treks to archeological sites and museums gave Vega a deep appreciation of their artistic tradi-tions.
In 1981, Vega headed west, crisscrossing the country bound for Denver, Colo. He visited many of the archeolog-ical sites he had read about as a child. He visited Acoma Pueblo and said he was awed by the potters at work in one of the oldest continuously inhabited communities in North America.
“In 1985, an accident while working as an electrician changed my life,” Vega said. “During two years of physical therapy, I first began to recognize the need to express my own creativity. I began paint-ing simple petroglyphs on deer skin. This led to experimenting with jewelry to reproduce the works of the primitive cultures I had visited.” Ten years later, Vega’s art took a turn and he began working in metal and stone furniture and sculptures relating to the American Southwest and Meso-American cultures. Using different art materials, and adding leather, feathers, beads, bone, wood, shell, antler and stone, his distinctive style began to develop. Now, his sculptures include warriors and “shaman” figures in a variety of sizes and forms.
“My pieces are not a literal interpretation of cultural or religious beliefs,” Vega said, “but are my own interpretations based on my extensive studies of primitive cultures. I used to wonder where the next idea would come from, not realiz-ing that the art itself tells the artist how to pro-ceed. Every hike to a remote region, every visit to an archeological site is a catalyst for new work.” Vega first came to Taos in 1983 to visit a friend and while here he attended the (Sept. 30) San Geronimo Day celebration at Taos Pueblo. He said he was drawn back for several visits in 1999 and finally returned to live in Pilar part time in 2000. He soon became acquainted with several artists in Pilar who supported him in his work.
While not working on his art, Vega works as an electrician and general handyman, or he is out hiking in the mountains. He said he is involved in “the spiritual community of Lakota Sweat Lodge and Sundance.” He said that during the past six years, the response to his work has grown due to Pilar Stu-dio Tours, art shows at Kit Carson Park and gal-leries in Taos. I always know that if there is an arts and crafts show in Kit Carson Park, Vega will be in the far northwest corner. Here he shows his “shamanic sculpture” that brings together the energies of the natural and the spiritual worlds.

Vega will be showing his free-standing and wall pieces of petroglyph-inspired sculptures Saturday and Sunday (Aug. 12-13), at the Community Against Violence benefit Arts and Crafts Show on Taos Plaza. You can also see his work at Open Space Gallery, located underneath Ogelvies restaurant on Taos Plaza. Look for him under the name “Ancient Shadows.” Today, Vega’s parents reside in “ La Isla del Encanto,” in Puerto Rico and Vega lives in “The Land of Enchantment.”

Hello Kitty

2006-07-27T15:39:00.000-05:00

Recently, we were fortunate enough to welcome Miss Lyra to Las Mananitas. She was a very well-behaved guest and was thoughtful enough to confine her wanderings (mostly) to floor level. She brought along her two bodyguards, Boomstick and Harmony, and allowed them the run of the house as well. Miss Lyra was very helpful in spotting unwelcome visitors known as Winged Warriors, and was quick to point them out to her hosts, who then crushed and eliminated them. We hope that Miss Lyra will favor us with another visit in the near future.

El Dia del Arte

2006-04-06T12:42:00.003-05:00

Back for a too-brief time, we discovered that our gate had been torn off its hinges. Thankfully the perpetrator (a would-be thief? a disgruntled neighbor?) had tied it closed to keep it safe from further destruction. We called our local fix-it guys, Handyman at Home, and they promptly sent out one of their crew, Rafael Vega, to do the repair work. As we were concluding business with Rafael, he told us that he was also a licensed electrician and plumber but that his true calling was as a sculptor of shamanistic art. He then produced a book of photos of his shaman figures, all of which were made of "found" items, such as feathers, bones, antlers, turtle shells, and lava rock, decorated with turquoise, copper wire, woven cloth, and other odds and ends. Most of his pieces were free-standing, but a few smaller ones were designed to be hung. The collection was impressive, and we wondered if the pieces would seem as haunting and eerie in reality as they appeared in the photos. He told us to see for ourselves at Open Space Gallery on the Plaza. (The link is the best we can do for an example of his art--look in the back corner of the picture, and you'll see one of his figures). After Rafael left, we hopped into the car and drove directly to the gallery, where many of his sculptures were on display. They were indeed haunting and eerie, and we were drawn to one in particular, a hanging figure about eighteen inches tall whose face was made of alabaster with a body draped in a black and white cloth. We might have bought it if we'd had no other uses for $450.00. (Rafael agreed to build a deck for us this summer, and perhaps after it's finished we can convince him to give us a preferred-customer discount).

While we were admiring the shamans at Open Space, we noticed that another artist had set up his easel and was painting a picture of a cow--a Picassoesque type of cow in orange, green and purple. We looked at one of the gallery walls and saw several similar pictures of cows and donkeys by the artist Michael Archuleta--the very same guy who was working in front of us. We were the only visitors to the gallery that afternoon, so Michael was happy to take a break from his painting and talk with us about his art and his life. He'd grown up in nearby Arroyo Seco and had enjoyed helping his grandfather herd the cows on the family farm. He's a realtor now, but he took up painting a short while ago to ease the pain of a recent divorce. We were tempted again to buy one of his cheerful and endearing cow pictures until we saw the price tag. The next morning, however, we were able to admire more of his paintings at our local coffeeshop, The Bean, where he's the featured artist this month.

It was a lovely warm day in Taos, so we continued our gallery browsing and walked about a half mile up the Paseo del Pueblo to Las Comadres, a women's art collective. Eight to ten women display their work there and take turns running the shop. That day the artist in residence was Dinah Baca , a sculptor from the Santa Clara pueblo. She makes female figures from clay and adds manure before the final firing, which turns them black. They're all about 12" high, and we would love to have one in our home! She told us to check out the Santa Clara pottery show in mid-July, since she'll be selling her mother-earth figures there without the gallery commission.

So what is it about Taos that turns mild-mannered plumbers, realtors, and housewives into wildly imaginative artists? Most would say it's the light or the famous Hum, but I think it's the Taos Cow ice cream. Look for us to have our own gallery by this time next year.

Autumn in northern New Mexico

2005-10-29T15:58:00.000-05:00

Taos Mountain as seen through the side wall of Rebecca's house.
Wolfgang's new home--looks like it's right on top of ours.
Fortunately, it's really not that close.
Steeje worked hard helping to build Wolfgang's house.
Adobes up close--no wonder the houses here are so well insulated.
These cliffs in northwestern NM are known as Los Brazos.
Fall colors are spectacular here.
It's too beautiful here--please don't make me go back to Minnesota!
One of many male tarantulas hoping to find a mate.
Maybe Mr. Tarantula can find his mate here.
Spidey was everyone's favorite ballominaria.
Another bloomin' balloominaria.
The littlest alpacas, Buster Brown and Elise, join their mamas to check out the photographer.
Bailey (left) and Spuds enjoying breakfast in their new home.
We had a delicious lunch at the Texas BBQ.

The sun sets on another beautiful fall day.

Tarantulas and Balloominarias

2005-10-24T13:23:00.000-05:00

It turns out that fall is tarantula season on the mesa. We saw one furry-legged arachnid at the side of the road during our morning walk yesterday and another one in our courtyard. According to our knowledgeable neighbors, it's the mating season, and the males are now out in force looking for a significant other. Our neighbors also assure us that they're not really harmful to humans since they can't sting or bite like a black widow or a brown recluse. Nevertheless, we wouldn't want one in our house. Karen told us that she woke up one morning to find a tarantula on the pillow next to her; she thought it was a rubber spider left by her grandchildren as a joke--until it moved.

Our visit happened to coincide with the Taos Mountain Balloon Festival, and since we went to last year's mass ascension at dawn (when fifty to sixty hot air balloons rise and float above the town), we decided to sleep in this time and go to the Balloominarias instead. This event takes place at dusk, which means that it fits much more easily into our daily routine. The balloonists assemble in the same field where the morning ascension takes place, only this time they remain on the ground and light up their balloons as the sun is setting. There were only about six of these balloominarias, but they were very impressive (photos to follow).

We'll take a break from blogging until we return in December. Meanwhile, que vivan Taos y los taosenos!

We're Back

2005-10-20T15:16:00.000-05:00

We've just come from lunch at Sushi Hattori, where we met Jim and Rebecca and ordered the daily special of sesame chicken, miso soup, California roll, and salad--all for the low, low price of $6.50. Our table faced the snow-capped Taos Mountain, and we had lovely views of golden cottonwoods on the ranchland surrounding the restaurant. We arrived back at Las Mananitas on Wednesday night and will be here for a few more days before driving back to Denver and catching a flight back to St. Paul.

Yesterday we toured some of the new construction in our neighborhood, including Wolfgang's house next door and Maggie's home a few doors down. Both are a few months from completion, but now that the outer walls and windows are in, we can get a pretty good idea of what the finished product will look like. Wolfgang's home is very nicely sited, with three big windows facing east toward the Taos range, and two facing west toward Tres Orejas. His home may be quite warm when the summer sun hits the west side, but at least he'll have stunning sunset views.

It's wonderful to see our neighbors again--we are lucky to be in the midst of such a friendly community. After walking through Maggie's house with her, we all went to Karen's to meet the latest addition, little brown-eyed Elise. Her coat is mostly white with a some caramel coloring mixed in, and she loves to frisk around the corral with her playmate Buster Brown. Rebecca's horse, Spuds, has returned to his former home across from the alpaca herd (we're sure he was happy to get away from the hay-stealing Chagall), and now has a new companion named Bailey. Jim and Rebecca bought two-year-old Bailey from a Navajo couple who could no longer afford to keep him. Rebecca says that Bailey is "green broke", which means that he's worn a saddle a couple of times but has yet to be ridden. She hopes to break him in during the coming months so that he'll be ready for riding next summer--when she says we'll be able to go riding together! I'm not sure that I want to risk being thrown by a newly-minted cowgirl vehicle, so we'll just have to see...

Summer Scenes

2005-09-18T15:50:00.001-05:00

The best sunset views are from Jim and Rebecca's patio.
The weeds turned into beautiful "desert gold" in front of our house.
Karen, the alpaca breeder, designed and built her house 25 years ago.
Baby Buster Brown and mama Valentine seek out the shade.

This chili tastes muy delicioso!
Taos Mountain looms as the sunflowers bloom.
Lars guards the mesa, keeping us safe from coyotes and other riff-raff.
Our neighbor, Astrid, astride her faithful apaloosa Nils.

Our Wonderful Visitors

2005-09-18T15:36:00.000-05:00

Margaritas for Tia and Tio on our front porch.
It's hard to see our faces, but we had a fabulous time with Terri and Stu at the Santa Fe wine festival.
Matt and Adam survived their baptism in the Rio Grande.

Pictures from the Mesa

2005-09-18T14:57:00.000-05:00

Help! The flying ants are invading our house!

Drew and Liz in Lost Wages

2005-09-18T14:49:00.000-05:00

Lyra loves her new home.
The view from Drew and Liz's balcony.
Drew and Liz at their fabulous Las Vegas apartment!

More pictures from the mesa

2005-09-18T14:47:00.000-05:00

Jim and Rebecca's patio is the best place for drinks.
Hamlet the rooster surveys his territory.
Chubby Chagall (foreground) and Spuds enjoy lunch.

Farewell

2005-08-26T15:22:00.000-05:00

Today is our last day in Taos, so it seems appropriate to list the hightlights of our 70-day adventure in the southwest.

Visiting Drew and Liz in Las Vegas
Crossing over the Hoover Dam at midnight
The south rim of the Grand Canyon
Lunch in Chimayo with Michael and Suzanne
The wine festival in Santa Fe with Stu and Terri
Staying at the Baldpate Inn
Listening to Michael Hearne and Colin Brooks in the rain at the Old Blinking Light
Getting to know Maggie, Deonne, and Carlye
Dancing to Jimmy Stadler's band at the Anaconda Bar
The chili cook-off in Red River
The farewell soiree at our house with French 75's
Sunsets from Jim and Rebecca's patio

It's very hard to leave, but we keep telling ourselves that we'll be back in just seven weeks. Adios, Taos!

Buster Brown

2005-08-24T13:39:00.000-05:00

A new baby was born yesterday on the mesa--a baby alpaca, that is. Maggie was the first to discover him, and she immediately called Karen (the alpaca breeder) at work. Lars, the Great Pyrenees who guards the herd, was in attendance for a short time, but then took off with his pal Zoey to parts unknown (and still had not returned by 8:00 p.m.). Meanwhile, Jack, a neighborhood mutt and moocher (he always joins Lars and Zoey at mealtime) decided that he should be the one to eat the afterbirth.

The baby is a beautiful soft brown color, hence the name Buster Brown. He's a sturdy little guy with strong legs, and, according to Karen, had already gained a pound on his first day. At this rate he'll be a giant by the time we return in October. I took a few pictures of him and his mom, Valentine, and I hope to post them (along with many others of the mesa) in a few weeks after we return to Minnesota.

10 Things I'll Miss about the Mesa

2005-08-18T14:41:00.000-05:00

1. Big-time views. Minnesota just can't compete with the mountains and the sage-covered hills of northern New Mexico.

2. Neighbors. Rebecca and Jim, Maggie, Karen, and Deonne are the world's best neighbors. They're a funny, friendly, funky bunch who all know how to tell a good story.

3. The sky. Sunsets, stars, rainbows, lightning, thunderheads, moonrises...the drama never ends.

4. Mesa dogs. They're the true owners of the mesa, and if they like you they just might let your
car pass by on bumpy Mesa Sea Road.

5. The Taos Diet. Much tastier than the Atkins artery-clogger: tamales, enchiladas, fajitas, fish tacos, and Texas barbecue. Yum!

6. Morning yoga in the guest room. On my yoga DVD, Rodney Yee says, "As the morning sun warms the earth, these exercises will invigorate you to meet the day." Right on!

7. Coyotes and Cows. Howling and mooing just outside our bedroom window, the beasties add a little more mystery to the night.

8. Morning walks. Every morning we walk along Mesa Sea, up to the bizarre little round house and back, about 3 miles round-trip. We say hello to all the dogs along the way, and love the fresh, light air and mountain views.

9. Musical evenings. Jimmy Stadler's rock band and Michael Hearne's traditional western music (not too country!) are our favorites here, and sometimes we're lucky enough to catch flamenco at the Adobe Bar.

10. Taos Cow ice cream. My favorite flavor is cherry ristra, but they're all good!

Altitude Adjustment

2005-08-17T16:44:00.000-05:00

Just a short post today to brag that Steve and I did our third climb up to Williams Lake with (almost) no stopping to catch our breath. After two months here, I guess we've finally gotten used to life at 7500 feet. The Williams Lake hike, which begins at 10,040 and ends at 11,060, gets easier the longer we stay here. Today we met Rocky, a championship standard poodle, on the trail, and watched him get a little bit out of his show-dog character to chase a pretty golden lab. To reward ourselves for a good hike, we stopped for lunch at Tim's Stray Dog Cantina. Tim's tortilla soup and green chile are delicious!

Horses, Hippie Hovels, and Hamlet

2005-08-15T17:42:00.002-05:00

Went with Rebecca today to feed and water her horse, Spuds, who's boarding at the home of her artist friends on Coyote Loop, about two miles from our house. Spuds, a quarter horse, shares accommodations with Chagall, a once-wild mustang. Spuds was especially happy to see Rebecca; he'd been penned in his little stall and was eager to get out into the corral for some excercise. I watched in fascination as Rebecca went through her routine of putting hay in the feeder, emptying out the horses' water trough so they'd have mud to wade in (hooves can get dry and cracked in this hot weather, just like human hands and feet!), and spraying the horses with the hose to cool them off. I thought Spuds looked a little thinner than the last time I saw him, which was about a year ago. Rebecca says that Chagall, a wily devil, always tries to eat Spuds' share of the food unless she's there to keep a watchful eye. Chagall is a beautiful chestnut-colored horse with a lovely black mane, but is definitely on the chubby side. According to Rebecca, when she and Chagall's owner go out riding, Spuds has no trouble climbing the hills, but Chagall huffs and puffs and has lots of trouble with the steeper climbs--not exactly what you'd expect from a mighty mustang!

The artists who own Chagall live in a modified earthship that they built themselves. The back wall of the house is built into the ground, and the front wall has floor-to-ceiling windows that face south. An indoor planter spanning the length of the house is filled with orange trees, rose bushes, and tropical plants that thrive in the constant sunlight. The floor is stained concrete, broken in pieces resembling flagstone. A "truth window" in a back corner of the house reveals what the home is made of: aluminum cans and mortar. Two wood-burning stoves provide heat in the winter, and lights in the ceiling are surrounded by gallon-size tomato cans. As Rebecca says, it's a true hippie hovel, but it's functional and lovely in a very Taos sort of way.
In addition to their horse, the artists also have a rooster, Hamlet, and three hens who very kindly provide eggs for breakfast.

After days like these on the mesa, how can I ever go back to Minnesota?

Perfect Guests and Perfect Days

2005-07-12T16:05:00.000-05:00

Stu and Terri visited us last week, and we loved having them here! It was fun to show them the sights of Taos: the Arroyo Seco 4th of July parade, the Ski Valley, the Gorge Bridge, and the Rio Grande. We enjoyed the restaurants too: the Guadalajara Grill (twice!), the Sheva Cafe, and Orlando's. They were perfect guests, and we were sorry to see them leave.

Guests who were scheduled to arrive on Sunday had to cancel due to a family emergency, so we spent the day hiking up to Williams Lake. It was one of those clear-blue-sky days that are perfect for hiking, and many others must have thought so, too, since we encountered quite a few people (and a couple of horses) on the trail. The snow that Matt and Adam had to wade through was gone, except for a few patches along the sides of the trail. We worked up hearty appetites on the way down and decided to try a new restaurant, Texas BBQ, for dinner. The restaurant is in the El Torreon Hacienda, and has a beautiful, close-up view of Taos Mountain from its outdoor patio. We ended the perfect day at the Adobe Bar, where a group of four musicians sang Spanish popular songs.

The Taos Fiesta is the weekend after next, and we can't wait. Maybe Michael and Suzanne will be here to celebrate with us! Que viva la reina y las princesas! Que viva Taos!

Settling In

2005-06-28T15:57:00.000-05:00

Last Thursday we waved goodbye to Matt and Adam and wished them well on their way west. We think they had a good time here, if wading knee-deep in snow on a hiking trail and capsizing in the Rio Grande can be considered fun. At any rate, we enjoyed having them here and look forward to reading their comments about Taos!

Meanwhile, life goes on and we continue to renew old friendships and meet new neighbors. We went to a new sushi restaurant with Jim and Rebecca, and we welcomed Santos and two new clients into our home while Rick, Santos's business partner, videoptaped us walking through the rooms. Santos will use the video for prospective clients who want to see his work. Maggie, our new neighbor to the north, is planning to build a new home on her second acre in the very near future. Clark, a retired orthodontist, lives a few doors down and knew Drew's orthodontist, Dr. Parsons, in dental school. We've tried to meet our newest neighbor, Deonne, whose house is behind ours, but her padlocked gate and pit bull are a bit intimidating.

It seems that each day unfolds with something interesting or unexpected. Last Friday, Rebecca asked me to go with her to Michael Trujillo's place in Lower Las Colonias to check out his furniture workshop, which is in an old railroad car. He makes simple, colorful cabinets, hutches, bookcases, and nightstands, but he's so busy with his furniture-making that he has no time to sell the stuff. Rebecca offered to help him by being his sales rep in exchange for pieces of furniture. He'll load his furniture into a 42-foot trailer, park it in front of a friend's place in El Prado along the Paseo del Pueblo Norte, and that will be his "shop." With all the tourist traffic along the Paseo, he's sure to attract many interested customers.

On Tuesday evening, we went to a concert of choral music at the church of San Francisco de Asis. The singers, the High Desert Chorale from Santa Fe, performed a program of Spanish renaissance music. It was a lovely setting for beautiful music!

We spent last evening with my friend Betsy (a work colleague) and her boyfriend Daniel who are staying at La Gallina, a little casita in Taos near the Martinez Hacienda. It was their first visit to Taos, and they were having a wonderful time here, although Daniel was having a little trouble adjusting to the altitude.

Stu and Terri, our next visitors, are due to arrive in Albuquerque on Saturday, and we'll meet them in Santa Fe on Sunday, go to the wine festival at Las Golondrias, and drive back here. Such fun!

Homecoming

2005-06-18T11:42:00.000-05:00

We arrived at Las Mananitas yesterday evening around 6:00 p.m. after two days of uneventful driving across the plains and over the mountains, 1260 miles door to door. As we drove into New Mexico from Colorado, the first thing we noticed was how green everything looked--not exactly lush, but certainly greener than on any previous visits. As we pulled into our driveway, we saw that weeds and little tufts of mesa grass had sprung up everywhere, giving our previously barren landscape a more lived-in look. The heavy spring rains worked their magic on the mesa, and now even the alpacas down the road have a new field of grass to munch on.

Once inside, we found evidence of rodent visitors scattered throughout the house, and Steve discovered a little mousie in the utility room, patas arribas. There were also a few more cracks in the plaster, and we plan to call Santos to remedy the situation. But it was wonderful to be back in our casita, listening to the coyotes howling at night.

Speaking of critters, we saw a young coyote pup running across the road as we were on our way to dinner last night. It ducked under the fence into the Pueblo land with our neighbor's dog, Zoey, in hot pursuit. We were a little worried that Zoey might be lured by this wily guy into a hungry pack of larger coyotes, so we stopped the car and called to her to come back home. Of course she paid no attention and kept following the pup deeper into the sage. But all ended well; this morning we saw Zoey in her usual spot lying next to Lars (her Great Pyrenees buddy) in Karen's driveway.

We'll be doing lots of cleaning today to get the house ready to receive our summer visitors. We're waiting for Matt and Adam to come tomorrow!

A Message to Family and Friends

2005-06-02T12:56:00.000-05:00

Welcome to Las Mananitas, our little house on the mesa. We look forward to your visit, and we hope you'll enjoy your stay with us. Here are a few things to keep in mind as you prepare for your trip:

Our home is in a remote location with no cell phone service, no internet access, and no TV, so bring a good book or two.
The summer sun is very intense, with a UV rating of 9 or 10 most days. Be sure to pack some sunscreen and a hat (cowboy hats work best; if you don't have one, you can buy a cool one here).
You may have trouble adjusting to the altitude (we're at 7500 ft.) for the first 24 hours, so be prepared to take it easy while hiking, and drink plenty of water.
Summer daytime temperatures are in the 80's, but the nights can be quite cool. You'll need a light jacket, a sweater, or a sweatshirt when going out in the evening.
Please leave your pets safely at home; we wouldn't want them to fall prey to the coyotes, bears, snakes and other critters that roam the mesa close to our house.

Please post a comment after you leave us--we'd love to read your impressions of the mesa.

See you soon!

Beth and Steve

Welcome to your Blog!

2005-05-26T17:15:00.000-05:00

Welcome to the home of Las Mañanitas on the web! We thought you might like to have a place where you could tell all your friends and all your family what's been going on in Taos when you're living there in the summertime, and what's going on with you when you're not there. Either way, it's a lot of fun, but watch out: blogging can be addictive! Happy Memorial Day!

Love,
Drew & Liz