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Taking stock

The rug I was working on as I moved last summer. "Welcome to New Mexico."
The rug I was working on during last summer’s exodus: “Welcome to New Mexico.” Since then I’ve been taking stock of our first year here.

 

Taking stock – that’s what I did with some of the time I took off from the blog these past couple of weeks (which passed by REALLY QUICKLY). July 30 held particular significance and not just because it was the day before my kid’s 19th birthday. This year it marked exactly one year since we rolled into the state of New Mexico to stay.

Wow! We can’t believe it either. At times it’s been tumultuous, there’s no denying that. The holidays, they were tough without family and friends. The kid crashing her car – no injuries other than to pride! – means that just like in high school, Tom’s stuck driving her back and forth to work till she saves for a new vehicle.

Big picture, though, the move’s been most everything we wanted.

 

Where Tynan and I walk in the Bosque along the Rio Grande.
Where Tynan and I walk in the Bosque along the west side of the Rio Grande. This is city living Albuquerque style.

CLIMATE:
Certainly, the weather’s wonderful: lots of sun, lots less winter (compared to New England). One day last January, we hiked in the snow on the east side of the Sandia Mountains then drove the 45 minutes to home where it was 55 degrees. No need for a stinkin’ snowblower here!

 

RUG HOOKING (this is a hooking blog):

You'll find many of AWAG ladies demonstrating rug hooking at Albuquerque's Biopark the first Tuesday of most every month.
You’ll find several of us AWAG’s ladies demonstrating rug hooking at Albuquerque’s Biopark the first Tuesday of most every month.

Who would’ve guessed that there’s such an active guild of hookers out here in Albuquerque? I’ve made some great friends this past year, even one, Melinda, who moved from New Hampshire about the same time I moved from Massachusetts. Now the two of us try to get a hooking afternoon in each week. Better yet, she and her husband are New England Patriots fans just like us. Tom and I are no longer alone in a sea of blue and orange Bronco fans.

 

"Desert Gone Wild" went to a good home just last week.
“Desert Gone Wild,” a table runner or wall hanging, went to a good home just last week.

As High on Hooking, I’ve managed to start selling pieces and been involved in not one, but two shows. The Adobe Wool Arts (ATHA) guild volunteered me as our representative to Albuquerque’s Fiber Arts Council which is currently planning next May’s Fiber Arts Fiesta. Then back in January, three of us headed down to Tuscon in Arizona for a hook-in with the Old Pueblo Rug Hookers. It was 80 degrees there! In January! I even managed a little sunburn!

 

You can't get much closer to a balloon without being in the basket. This one landed behind the house last fall.
You can’t get much closer to a balloon without being in the basket. This one landed right behind the house last fall.

 

 

 

 

HOUSING:
While we didn’t down-size like we planned (hey, with no cellar or attic, we realized we needed an extra room for the treadmill and bike), we found a great house close to the Rio Grande. That means the dog and I can head out to walk the scenic trails of the Bosque (the forest) whenever we wish. In summer this is best done in the early morning hours.) So far we’ve come across a snake, hawks and hummingbirds, lots of bunnies and geckos, two coyotes, and, just last week, a porcupine.

 

Tynan running free in the Bosque. Like, Just like New England, autumn is the best time to be in New Mexico.
Tynan running free in the Bosque. Just like New England, autumn is the best season to be in New Mexico.

 

 

PERSONAL:
I turned 52 this summer. Moving here signaled the start of the next half of my life. (You think I’m optimistic, but one of my grandmothers died as an active 93-year-old, and the other is still very much alive.) One reason we moved here — besides the BIG sky, the art scene, and there being less people — was for the outdoor lifestyle. We like to hike. Unfortunately, a couple of months before we left the east coast, I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. I won’t lie, it’s been a pain in my ass, amongst other places, but especially for my knees. That’s limited our hiking some. But I’m on a new med; here’s hoping it works without too many side effects (the scary kinds they recite to us in all the TV ads). And that the damn hot flashes stop soon. (I am 52.)

20160522_121931
On the trail again at Tent Rocks.

Luckily, though, while my fingers have swollen some, they’ve suffered little pain. Maybe all the hooking keeps everything lubed up. Thank goodness. I know that most of you feel like I do: hooking is therapy. Without it, life would, to put it bluntly, suck.

Life here in Albuquerque definitely does NOT suck. There are all kinds of new experiences:

 

Tom posing in Tent Rock's curves.
Tom posing in Tent Rocks’ curves.
Navajo rugs up for auction.
Navajo rugs up for auction.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I could go on, but I won’t right now. There’s too much to do. Rugs don’t hook themselves. Plus, we have company coming early September through mid-October. I can play Julie McCoy to the relatives.

 

How’s your summer been going?

 

Mass ascension at Balloon Fiesta 2015. Have you ever seen so many balloons in one place?
Mass Ascension at Balloon Fiesta 2015. Have you ever seen so many balloons in one place?

 

"Welcome to New Mexico", 29.5"x20", $225, Recycled t-shirts
High on Hooking says “Welcome to New Mexico.” Stay for a while and see why we love it here.
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A season of waiting. Even to hook.

High on Hooking wishes you all a productive Advent. What are you waiting for?
High on Hooking wishes you all a productive Advent. What are you waiting for?

It’s Advent in our house, the season of waiting. Of course, we’re waiting for Christmas. First and foremost, around here we do that by getting a tree and decorating the house. This year there’s a learning curve involved. One simply does not throw up window candles and a blow-up snowman in a southwest pueblo-style house as one did in their New England colonial. For one thing, there’s no front yard for Frosty. So, he’s history. Instead, his little, light-up, burlap buddy is gracing the front door. Glass balls gussy up some landscaping. Fortunately for us, the previous owner had strung our big, backyard pine tree (maybe it’s a ponderosa?) with lights long ago. (We pray to God that the lights continue to function.) Festive red and completely-appropriate-for-New-Mexico chili lights hang on the pergola.

 

Tree's up New Mexican style!
Tree’s up New Mexican style!

I decorated the indoor tree last night. Despite our 12 or so-foot ceilings, we’ve been trending to shorter trees in the past few years. In Massachusetts, the family room had a cathedral ceiling. We spent decades practically needing a crane to dress the tree. It was plenty fun, but I’m done with the holiday bombast and have been moving to a quieter Christmas. That includes focusing on smaller things. Like the tree.

Because we’re new to Albuquerque, we’ve been anxious to experience some of the city’s traditions. The River of Lights is on the docket. I’ve hit up two big arts festivals. Trips to the fairs are also intended to gather intel, to determine the feasibility of High on Hooking setting up shop next year. We’ve got some possibilities…

The charm of Old Town Albuquerque.
The holiday charm of Old Town Albuquerque.

Friday night we headed out to Old Town to see the city’s Christmas tree being lit. Us and a couple thousand other people it seemed. Parking was a bitch! But it was a pleasant evening. Streets were closed and lined with hundreds of luminarias. Shops and galleries were open; carolers and school kids sang. Flamenco dancers in street clothes clicked their castenets. A good time was had by all. Till we tried to leave and sat waiting in traffic for some time. Yeah, now that we’ve experienced this venue, we’ll move on to something less parking-challenged in 2016.

Waiting’s not just a part of the Christmas holiday for me this year; it’s factoring into my hooking too. First and foremost, I’ve come down with a case of shingles. Damn rheumatoid arthirtis meds lowered my immunity that much. The ironic thing is that my guild members and I were discussing shingles – and the priority of avoiding them – when we did our monthly Botanic Garden demo a week ago! Little did I know what was percolating just under my skin at that moment… Hence, not much hooking’s going on.

But I am able to plan which is another big thing to do in December. Albuquerque’s Fiber Arts Council has scheduled its 2016 spring show. Members of all guilds are encouraged to submit pieces as are non-affiliated artists. The theme is “Colors of the Southwest.” Now I’m in the midst of planning a new rug that has to be finished by early March. Call me indecisive, but I can’t for the life of me choose from the various designs I’ve sketched. It’s back to the drawing board with help from the likes of Deanne Fitzpatrick‘s Simply Modern book. Unfortunately, Susan Feller‘s Design Basics for Rug Hookers is still buried in my unpacked boxes of books. But we’re making progress on that front! Bookshelves are being painted as I type. (Tom’s turn; we only have one paintbrush at the moment.) We will have an office again by Christmas.

 

Two little mats wait to be finished.
Two little mats wait to be finished. Hope they’re done in time for the Adobe Wool Arts Guild Christmas party!

Waiting is a December tradition: for a baby to be born; for Santa; for family, friends, and festivities; for the new year and all it’s to bring. Being in a new place and home adds a wrinkle to it all. Not to mention the freaking shingles. But I’m praying that I’m able to gracefully and productively anticipate the results of all preparations, for Christmas and for rug hooking.

 

 

 

Our willingness to wait reveals the value we place on what we’re waiting for…
—Charles Stanley

What specifically are you waiting for this December?

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Summer’s last gasp…

Fall in the mountains of Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Fall in the mountains of Santa Fe, New Mexico. It’s been feeling like summer.

 

The past week we’ve been eating out on the patio every night; it’s been that warm here in Albuquerque. Mid- to high- 80s. Lots of sun. And while I’ve felt a little left out of the New England autumnal loop – you know, turning leaves, sweater weather, stoking the fire-pit – I can’t say that I’m regretting this uncharacteristically lingering summer one bit. But it’s all about to change. Friday’s the day, apparently, that some rains come, and the temperature drops that 15 or so degrees that nature eventually demands.

Our loving room looking out to the backyard. Eventually we'll get things on the walls and such, once we take and inventory and see what'll work in this style of house. Till then we're pretty comfy, though.
Our living room looking out to the backyard. Eventually we’ll get things on the walls and such, once we take and inventory and see what’ll work in this style of house. Till then we’re happy to be comfy and settling in.

 

 

 

 

I’m good with that too. It’ll keep me in the house more, allow me to do some writing, start looking at the job situation here in town. Not that we haven’t been busy. Finally, I can say that most of the boxes have been emptied, and many of their contents have found a place in our new home. We have fully functional kitchens and bathrooms, something that’s an imperative to me. We’ve even managed to lay in some of my favorite seasonal decor: pumpkins!

There's even a cute, little patio perfect for sharing a bottle of wine. Looking for a fire-pit now.
There’s even a cute, little patio perfect for sharing a bottle of wine. We’re looking for a fire-pit now.

 

 

The neighborhood’s rather quiet, but a potluck’s been planned for Sunday afternoon in our little park down the street. We’re looking forward to getting to know people, breaking bread and sharing a glass or two. Most important to me is getting the scoop about Halloween. How many kids can I expect to come to the door? Lord knows I can’t to run out of candy my first time out in a new community.

 

Imagine the views...
Imagine the views…

We’re really hoping to start limiting the trips to Target, Lowes, and all the other big box stores that become a home away from one’s new home when you move. The bank account can’t take it any more. And we’d really like to reclaim that time for fun and exploration. To that effect, we did take some time Saturday and headed with the kid and the dog to hike up in Santa Fe. It was good to get out and remember why we relocated.

Mixed media mat in the making. T-shirts, wool yarn, and some gossamer fabrics to come.
Mixed media mat in the making. T-shirts, wool yarn, and some gossamer fabrics to come.

 

Last update: I am indeed in the midst of a new mat. I’ve included a pic. I’ve finally started pulling my stash out of boxes and trying to arrange it for maximum efficiency and workability. I have no studio or room that can be dedicated to all things hooking, but I do have one hell of a master closet which holds my clothing and, on some kick-ass, built-in shelves, the bulk of my yarns and fabrics. So, with a little more time and arranging, I’ll make it work.

 

So to all my east coast friends, enjoy your picture-perfect fall days and leaf-peeping. I do miss this quintessential New England season. In fact, send me your photos. I can look at them while bask in this glorious last gasp of summer in New Mexico.

Okay, it's a cactus, not a maple tree. But it's still something to look at.
Okay, it’s a cactus, not a maple tree. But it’s still something to look at.

 

 

 

 

 

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Regrets, I have a few…

I move from a wonderful house, neighborhood, job, church, writing group, rug hooking guild in just four days. Across the country. It’s a planned move; I really have no excuse for my regrets, the things I intended to do, but never got around to making real. And that makes me sad.

Our home has sold. We'll miss her.
Our home has sold. We’ll miss her.
  • While I did make it to the beach this past weekend for a final farewell to the ocean (necessary when you’re moving from Massachusetts to the southwestern high desert), I didn’t manage to get down to Salty Brine Beach down in the little fishing port of Galilee, Rhode Island. If it sounds familiar and you’re not from around here, it’s because part of the beach blew up last week (no, they don’t know the exact cause yet and exploding beaches are not the norm around here, but the sunbathing lady will be okay). It’s a nice, little place to swim, but more importantly, George’s of Galilee, a fabulous restaurant right on the beach, has a sunny deck where one can sit and eat lobster and drink chardonnay while watching the boats and ferries go in and out. I never got that last lobster. Disappointed
  • Despite the fact that I was in New Hampshire last August (and lots of times before that), I’ve never made it to the Dorr Mill Store. It’s my twill tape go-to. Have you seen all the colors they carry?  And I’ve never made the pilgrimage to Halcyon in Maine where I get (also via mail) much of the rug yarn that I use. Thank God for the Internet on both accounts.
  • I planned on hitting up all the cultural activities and museums – especially those dealing with textiles like the American Textile History Museum in Lowell, Massachusetts – before I left. Little did I know how much work, the kid’s high school graduation, home repairs, selling the house, packing, and good-byes would take out of us. Damn, we were lucky if we even managed to watch television. Some evenings The Young and the Restless was as artsy as it got. (I love you, TIVO.)
  • While life’s been a series of “last times” and farewells these past weeks, there are people I would’ve liked to have seen, especially some I’ve only met through Facebook, but are nonetheless very dear to me. I hope you all know who you are. I’m truly sorry that we couldn’t meet face-to-face. Maybe one day in the future. Tom and I will still have family here in New England, and you are always welcome in Albuquerque.

Lastly, I regret that it took me so long to revamp this website and blog. Posts will undoubtedly be sporadic for a few weeks, but I’ll try to get something of the journey and the adventure up to share. Feel free to check High on Hooking’s Facebook page for updates too. Prayers for safe travels are always appreciated. I’ll see you on the other side of the country. Next stop: New Mexico!

New Mexico, here we come!

 

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On the threshold of an adventure…

Time’s running out. Quickly. Yesterday was my last day of work running the food pantry. I hope that I’ve passed on all the “wisdom” I’ve accumulated to Sue while I had the chance. Clients depend on it.

The truth is that even if I didn’t, there are still a few weeks before the moving van arrives to pack up the crap we’ve accumulated over 23 years. We’re on a precipice here, people – about to move from New England, where we were all born and bred, to the high desert of New Mexico.

Where we’ll be starting our new adventure.

When I say “we,” I mean me (the hooker), Tom (the husband), and the almost 18-year old daughter. When I say “born and bred,” I mean raised on Dunkin’ Donuts, trips to Rhode Island beaches, vacations in New Hampshire’s White Mountains, fresh seafood, East coast educations, fiery-colored fall leaves, and, of course, Providence‘s up and continually coming food and art scene.

The truth is that I was born on the western side of Connecticut closer to NYC than Boston. My elementary and high school field trips usually ended up in New York: the Statue of Liberty, Broadway, the Cloisters, the Museum of Natural History, the Metropolitan Opera… (Who can complain about that???)  It was only after college and two degrees – in Rhode Island and then in Kansas – and two marriages, that I ended up in Massachusetts. Where I’ve been for 23+ years. Where I learned to hook. And haven’t looked back.

But for years I have looked forward. Back in 1990 or so, I headed to Arizona on business. It was October, 90 degrees, blue-skied, and glorious. I fell in love with the Southwest. A few vacations and explorations later, and new hubby and I espoused New Mexico, truly the land of enchantment with it’s big sky, clear air, art, hiking, and outdoor lifestyle. Sure, things stood in the way: careers, a kid who needed to finish school, and a mother-in-law with Alzheimer’s. (Life does indeed suck sometimes.)

But high school graduation finally arrived last month, and mother-in-law smiles down on us from up above, encouraging migration to a new and warmer climate. New Mexico’s not populated with quite as many hookers as New England and the Maritimes (you can all stop laughing at my understatement), but I’ll find them. And my hopes are to introduce the art form to new admirers. Preferably in trade for weaving lessons. I’ve always wanted to weave. Have you seen the tapestries of Donna Loraine Contractor?

The next few weeks will be busy. And potentially volatile. Emotions run high when you’re in the midst of a cross country move to a place with no one waiting for you. Just your dreams and hopes for a new adventure. Follow us and see where they take us.

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