If you’re a regular reader, then you know that Tom and I took our first really GOOD vacation in ten years in early August. No kid, not even the dog. (Don’t feel bad for Tynan; he had himself a fine time at a guild mate’s “doggie spa.”) Amazingly, neither of us had even been on a plane in five years – when we were scouting out Albuquerque before our move here in 2015. If you consider that this year we celebrated 25 years of marriage, you can see why it was time. So, we headed to Bordeaux, yes, the one in France, and boarded a Viking long boat for a wine cruise. And, yes, it met every expectation that we had.
We saw all kinds of things: vineyards, a big city (Bordeaux), tiny villages, 18th century forts,sculptures, chateaux, and so on. Got lots of pics to share. So many that I blew out my new Dropbox. Guess I have to pare down some. I don’t want to bore anyone, so I’ll post them according to themes. This week we’ll try NATURE.
Ultimately, we cruised along three different rivers near Bordeaux that week. Two met up at at the Gironde estuary not far from the Atlantic coast. Sadly, there were some, but not many, sea and river birds. I never got a good answer as to why that was given the estuary, but it might have something to do with the region’s agricultural practices.
Being in a world-famous wine region, of course, we toured several wineries. There was one which specialized in Sauternes wines – unfortunately, not my favorite, too sweet – but it was beautiful.
Mind you, chateaux in the Bordeaux area are not at all like those in the Loire valley. While those are about opulence and architecture, the ones in Bordeaux are more about commerce and the making and selling of wine. Often, there’s not a lot going on inside other than rooms for weddings,banquets, and wine tastings. These are real working farms and wineries. To that affect, see who we found at the one in Sauternes.
But we didn’t have to be on land to enjoy nature’s bounty.
There was the captain of the Forseti. That was the name of our river boat.
Damn, I can get a bunch of posts out of this trip. Next time we’ll talk old buildings or something. I mean, we saw the ruins of a castle from the Middle Ages. You don’t see that every day in New Mexico. Till then, Tynan brings you this week’s rug on the frame.
So, you know how she went on and on last week about how busy she is? As if the whole world isn’t over-scheduled. (Right, I’m not overly busy at all; dogs are smarter than the average human!) Anyway, this week she’s soooo busy that she told me I had to write the post up and get it out. Clearly, she was afraid to tell you that she’s decided, what with everything going on, including a nice vacation on a riverboat in France!!! – no dogs allowed – she’s about to take her annual summertime blog hiatus for a few weeks. Look for her again sometime mid-August. In the meantime, she insists that she can be reached and “seen” through the Facebook page, Instagram, and email.
I want you all to know that I did her bidding, but I’m not happy. 1) I don’t get to hang in Bordeauxon a riverboat eating goat cheese and drinking wine. 2) They wouldn’t let me explore the cave I found yesterday. See, we went hiking on an obscenely easy trail in the Cibola National Forest on the other side of the Sandias. (Okay, the master’s still babying his gouty toe.)
As usual, I’m leading the way up the mountain. I’m scanning the trail for the usual suspects: bears, bobcats, mountain lions, geckos. Don’t laugh, those little bastards can sneak up on you and scare the shit out of a dog. Anyway, I take a gander to my left and what do I see – no, not a giant gecko, smart-asses – but a cave. Cool! Who knows what kind of snacks might be hidden in there. I adjust course and head for the opening. Cautiously I enter and next thing I know…someone’s got my tail. Damn, I hate that. “Tynan, get your ass out here!”
Turns out it’s an old mine shaft entrance. But who knows who lives in there now? Not that anyone would let me investigate. Chicken shits! They insisted that we take pictures of the cave, but that’s all. Damn. I just want everyone to know that I was willing and brave enough to find out what was in there. Some others…were not.
On that note, I wish you all a good rest of the summer. Like I said, we’ll be back to the blog mid-August. She’ll probably make me write that first one too. I hope that you and your dogs (okay, maybe the cats too) enjoy your vacations even if they’re staycations. And if you’re taking your dogs somewhere cool this summer, PLEASE comment here. It’ll give me more ammunition for next year.
Last Wednesday Tom and I took a little field trip. Several months ago he’d surprised me with tickets to Santa Fe’s Botanical Gardens, a place we’d never been to. He picked them up for a sweet price on Groupon; I was good with that. Unfortunately, Tynan and his canine ilk are verboten at the gardens, so he had to stay home. (Not that he minded; he managed to log a lot of air conditioned snooze time on the bed with us gone.)
So, we get to the garden. It’s up on Museum Hill in Santa Fe. Friends had warned me. It’s no BioPark. The BioPark here in Albuquerque comprises both our zooand botanic garden – don’t ask me why it’s called “botanic” and not “botanical” like I’ve always heard. But I’m used to the plain BIGNESS of our botanic gardens becaue I’m there regularly; the Adobe Wool Arts Guild does demos there the first and fourth Tuesdays of each month (except June and July when they kick us out for summer camp groups).
The Santa Fe gardens are far more modest. Really, it takes very little time to cruise through it. Nonetheless, it was a pleasant place to spend a warm (read: HOT) early summer hour or so. And one thing really stood out – or really twenty-three things: the animal sculpture exhibit of Dan Ostermiller called “Gardens Gone Wild.” If you’re thinking of seeing the garden, I recommend going while the critters are there; they made the place. According to the literature we picked up, the exhibit runs from May, 2018 – May 12, 2019. In the meantime, check out some of the pics I managed to get.
No, of course, I won’t cry because it’s my birthday. But what I will do is keep this post brief. And write it up on Monday the 4th to post Tuesday. Because, peeps, I am très busy on my birthday. After a mimosabreakfast of champions, I’m off for a visit with the rheumatologist. Then I’ll meet friends for lunch after which we’ll head off to Edna Fergusson Library for an afternoon of hooking. Which is good, as I need to finish a piece that’s nowhere near done for Sunday’s Rail Yards Market here in Albuquerque. What the evening will bring is still up in the air, but Tom’s promised to get me gluten free carrot cake from Flying Star. This excites me to no end as I haven’t had cake on my birthday in years. Oh, and there will be wine. Good wine.
Happy birthday to me! What might your birthday traditions include? I’m always looking for new ways to celebrate…anything!
After a super busy two months of fiber art shows and vending, spending a slow three days at Casa San Ysidro last weekend demonstrating and attempting to sell gave me some down time, a chance to think, to come to a few epiphanies.
Hooking and husbands Cathy Kelly and I would have a wicked hard time (yes, there’s still some New England twang left in this now Southwestern girl) vending without our husbands Bill and Tom. (Sorry, never got any pics of them Sunday evening.) Between my recent RA flare-up and Cathy’s emergency appendicitis (the same night as our last vending gig!), those display grids were not going up or down by themselves. Thank you, Bill! Tom, unfortunately, has been suffering his own autoimmune failure – gout – for the last two or three weeks, but he gamely showed up with iced tea and helped with break-down. Hooking – it’s best when it involves a village, but it’s nothing without a helpful spouse.
Living or reading about living?
During last weekend’s New Mexico Fiber Crawl, we were at Casa San Ysidro from about 9:15 to 5:00. Those were three long days, and we didn’t see the traffic we expected. But what a great place to hang and hook! By the time I made it home each evening, though, my laptop was the last place I wanted to be. So, I wasn’t. Lo and behold, the world didn’t cave in because I didn’t share as much on the three Facebook pages I manage (my own two and the guild’s). Don’t get me wrong. I managed to do most of my daily computer and email “toilettte” on my phone as I sat enjoying the weather and the ambiance of the old casa’s courtyard. But I didn’t worry much about passing anything further down the information highway. Sure, if a blog or Facebook post came along that had an easy share button, I’d click it away to others. If not, oh, well…
This got me to thinking about how tethered I am to seeing info and, more importantly, passing it on. Which I generally think is a nice thing to do for everyone. But it takes time, time I want back. Summer is perfect for letting go of the self-imposed idea of me as the town crier. After this weekend’s Rail Yards Market, I’ll have a couple of months with only one gig each before fall festivals and such heat up again. I have products to make, a BIG rug on the Anderson frame, a friendship rug to finish, and a whole slew of new ideas running through my brain after I turn off my light each night. And…I think it’s finally time to try some weaving. Starting with a triangular loom, but it’s a start.
So…actually working, playing, and experimenting more are on tap this summer, less so reading and passing on other folks’ work, play, and experiments, much as I like to do all that. Don’t take it personally, anyone. And thank goodness that Instagramonly requires pressing that little ♥ button. We won’t even mention my late night Pinteresthabit right now.
Change happens
Awhile back I mentioned how I really wanted to get back to writing short fiction. I spent years writing and even had some bits published. It was creative and incredibly challenging. But emotional family issues got in the way making it difficult to access the place in my head where
stories came from. Hooking showed up too, gradually taking up more and more of my available time. Frankly, making rugs, visual art, is easier for me, and it’s been quite healing. Still, every few months I’d beat myself up and drag out the pen and paper. It’s part of who I am I’d tell myself. After countless false re-starts, though, sometimes we have to grasp that CHANGE REALLY HAPPENS, and I think I’ve finally gotten to a point in my life where I can admit that writing short stories is more about who I was. It’s a hard thing to admit, but it’s where I am NOW. And it’s rather freeing. Fiber art’s it for me right now. I’m happily looking into things to become better at and new techniques to try. Maybe I’ll even pick up my journal again now that I can ignore the guilt monster. Even better, it gives me more time to read. There are so many great books out there just waiting for me!
Like I said , ramblings… Nothing earth-shattering; in fact, most is stuff I already knew, but so often we need a good reminder about just those very everyday things in our lives. Three quiet days can give you that, can remind you of the life you really want to live.
Happy Memorial Day, all! Remember those who should be remembered. And enjoy this first summer weekend.