Harvest Time

Final Harvest, Magdalena, NM, Oct. 2011

October is incredibly beautiful here in New Mexico, with the deepest blue skies, golden sunshine, changing leaves... and of course it's a bittersweet time for any gardener because it brings frosts that slow and finally still the garden. Here's one of my last harvests of this wonderful, colorful season: plum and heirloom striped tomatoes, tomatillos, purple bell and yellow banana peppers, and fiery cayennes. Salsa, baby. Not that I've had much energy given my schedule and commute, but this weekend I hope to make and can some serious salsa and tomato sauce, and also bake with some of the wonderful pumpkins I pulled out of the garden earlier this week. What I'll miss most about this year's garden, which is now all but gone: wandering the rows and stuffing myself with cherry and pear tomatoes as I gathered produce for the next few days' meals. Methinks a greenhouse is in my future....

Shadow Self

Self-portrait (with Apache) in sun and shadow on raw dirt. Magdalena, NM, Oct. 2011

I don't like neglecting my blog, but you know how it is when things press in and choices have to be made. I had to start ramping up my internship hours this week, which means more time in and commuting to/from Albuquerque, so I can finish the program next June and finally start working for money in this new career. Marital/family therapy seems like a great fit for me. And I have lots of ideas for making the career my own with twists like canine and equine therapy for kids (and maybe adults) with PTSD, therapy retreats for couples and families, that sort of thing -- somewhere down the road. In the meantime, I'm working, learning, and taking care of myself and my kids and animals, including spending as much time as I can out on the property in the open air. I love it when the horses come out to greet us, and the dogs take off after rabbits, and the kids start running and climbing and howling like banshees and just letting off steam. If I could build a house out there right now I would, because it is where I find peace almost without effort: I just have to stand for a moment in the stillness, and my soul settles. What a treasure.

Drinking It In

Hollyhock bud after the rain, Magdalena, NM, Oct. 2011

Double rainbow in the Magdalena Mountains, Oct. 2011

Yesterday was a day of thick clouds and steady rain that gave trees and grasses and perennials a much-needed drenching before the weather turns cold. It revived my flower gardens that are bestowing a final burst of color on us, and today I noticed new cilantro seedlings around the herb bed just in time for that final batch of salsa. As frost approaches -- it's quite possible we'll get at least a light frost this weekend -- I feel (as always) that I just haven't had enough time in the garden. I will especially miss wandering through the rows with Maggie, both of us eating handful after handful of cherry tomatoes and little pear tomatoes; I had planted five or six different varieties to hedge my bets, and they all produced quite well. My favorites: the orange cherry tomatoes -- even sweeter than the red ones, which themselves were hard to beat. Summer is just never long enough for me.... Another gift yesterday: just before sunset, the sun broke through low clouds to give us a beautiful double rainbow. Enchanting, as always.

Turning Towards Autumn

Los Girasoles de la Acequia (photo abstraction), San Acacia, NM, Sept. 2011

Reflection... makes me quiet. I'm resting (short break from internship), catching up on personal time, hiking, riding, doing some pre-winter cleaning up and clearing out, and resting some more. I've been photographing the change of seasons and today spent some creative time altering a photograph I took during a meandering walk one evening along the acequias down in San Acacia. These communal irrigation canals date back many generations and allow farmers to share the scarce water that flows through this land. As the season turns toward autumn these canals often abound with sunflowers, giving us a last burst of summer color before the seasons of harvest and rest. I bid you all a beautiful turn of the seasons and leave you with this evocative poem from Jimmy Santiago Baca, a New Mexico poet whose words speak to both current events and timeless themes.

Sometimes I stand on the river bank

and feel the water take my pain,

allow my nostalgic brooding

a reprieve.

The water flows south,

constantly redrafting its story

which is my story,

rising and lowering with glimmering meanings—

here nations drown their stupid babbling,

bragging senators are mere geese droppings in the mud,

radicals and conservatives are stands of island grass,

and the water flows on,

cleansing, baptizing Muslims, Jews and Christians alike.

I yearn to move past these days of hate and racism.

That is why this Rio Grande,

these trees and sage bushes

the geese, horses, dogs and river stones

are so important to me—

with them

I go on altering my reptilian self,

reaching higher notes of being

on my trombone heart,

pulsing out into the universe, my music

according to the leaf’s music sheet,

working, with a vague indulgence toward a song

called

we the people.

-Jimmy Santiago Baca, from Winter Poems along the Rio Grande

Bead Soup Blog Party!

Harvest Dance necklace; focal and toggle clasp by BSBP partner Barbe St. John

I love this resin and brass cowgirl toggle that Barbe made!

Thanks to a LOT of hard work by Lori Anderson, the Bead Soup Blog Party is here! As always, I had a great time working with the treasures that BSBP partner Barbe St. John of Saints and Sinners sent me; above is what I made from the awesome focal, toggle clasp, sari silk, and autumn-hued beads that Barbe picked out for me. I added in some striped glass rounds I found at Michael's the day before I got Barbe's package; the rest of the beads are from her and I still have some left over! Big thanks to Barbe for being so generous and for nudging me enough out of my comfort zone that I decided to just cut loose all expectations and play. Barbe, I hope you had fun with what I sent you, too, and thank you again, especially for the extra-special Albuquerque Wanderlust pendant! (I'll be showing that off soon; I'm composing a special piece just for me...)

Thank you, too, for visiting -- now it's time to blog hop! Go here for the full list of participants and their partners -- I know, that's a LOT of blog hopping, but you will love what you see! Enjoy the eye candy!

The Creative Exchange: Chile Season

Chile pequin ristras at the Hatch Chile Festival, Hatch, NM, Sept. 2011

Farmers roasting green chiles; red chile ristras drying. Hatch, NM, Sept. 2011

Time for the Creative Exchange; my theme this week is harvest season. Here in New Mexico I find the chile harvest especially enchanting because of the sight, smell, and taste of the various chiles grown here. New Mexico green chiles have a flavor unlike any other pepper; the mild ones are sweetly aromatic, and the hot varieties have a sharp heat tempered by that same aromatic flavor I've never tasted in any other pepper. Once the harvest begins in late August, vendors set up roasters like the one shown at right to blister the skins and give the chiles a smokey-sweet flavor. The scent is out of this world, and whether you thought you were going to buy some or not suddenly you find yourself craving them. Some chiles are left on the plants to ripen, then dried (in Hatch we saw roofs covered in chiles -- what a great idea) and woven into traditional ristras to be hung in the kitchen for easy reach when making red chile sauce, posole, and other dishes.

The Hatch Chile Festival draws people from all over to southern New Mexico to try the various chiles in salsas, relishes, sauces, and, my new favorite, hand-cranked ice cream with green chile. It's definitely the best place to buy ristras both for quality and for price; I only bought two of the multicolor pequin ristras shown above, but of course now I wish I'd bought some of every kind and color. Vendors sell lots of other goods too, including cookbooks (I've been wanting one with lots of green and red chile recipes, including chile jelly for canning), knick-knacks, fine art, jewelry, and chile-themed accessories. I really wanted a pair of the chile sunglasses this girl was wearing, but she had the last pair, so I asked if I could take her picture instead and she happily agreed -- her mom offered to sell me that last pair but I couldn't take them from this sweet kid! All in all it was a fun day, even if chile harvest does mean summer is almost over.

...and growing, and growing...

Riley and Lucy enjoying a water break from a Magdalena mountain hike, Aug. 2011

Lucy and Riley, May 2011

Remember this little guy who was dumped on our road one night and took refuge under my dad's car? Four months later, two weeks shy of his six-month birthday, he is as long as and almost as tall as Lucy, has a bigger head and paws than she does, and is closing in fast on 60 pounds. He's still rambunctious and a bit destructive but has a happy, sweet disposition and is smart enough to learn IF we're consistent with our discipline. And he's an awesome hiking buddy, mostly running with Lucy but also circling back to check on me if she takes off after a rabbit or deer. On our first vet visit she said he was most likely a boxer-mastiff mix, and his huge feet, big bones, and heavy jowls certainly seem to be expressions of his mastiff parentage. He is still growing in discombobulated bursts; one day we'll notice his head suddenly seems huge (the wide-angle close-up image below doesn't seem too far off from reality, except that his feet are actually much bigger!), and a few days later he'll suddenly seem taller. It's a bit disconcerting because we could have a REALLY big dog on our hands in a few more months. Even so, both both boxers and mastiffs are amiable and loyal, and mastiffs do mellow out as they grow up, so I have no doubt he'll be a great companion for a long time to come.

"Whatcha doin'?" I love this funky distorted shot; it's so... Riley.

I Heart Macro: Picking Pretty Purple Peppers

Purple Bell and Yellow Banana Peppers, Magdalena, NM, Aug. 2011

This year's garden has given me so much pleasure and joy, and now it's giving me gorgeous, delectable produce that I not only get to eat but also get to share. These peppers, though, I kept for myself and the kids, and of course to photograph for this week's I Heart Macro. I don't have much luck with peppers here at 6,800 feet, but this year I used black landscape fabric to both warm the soil and hold in more moisture, and that really helped. A few days ago, when I saw that the purple bell peppers were ready to pick, I took Maggie with me out to the garden to let her pick them for us. Her eyes lit up when she saw three perfect purple peppers. And when I set our harvest out for some still-life shots, Maggie asked if she could compose and photograph a still life, too. So here it is, and it sums up perfectly how we feel about our garden this summer.

Maggie's Garden Bounty Still-Life

I Heart Macro: Carrot-Tops

Carrot seedhead, Magdalena, NM, Aug. 2011

Photo-processing time has become rare lately, but tonight I am up very late (even later than usual) watching Hurricane Irene tear up the East Coast and awaiting news from my family and many friends around Philly and New York of how they're faring. So this week's I Heart Macro post is all about carrots -- the part of the plant we rarely see, which I had fun photographing earlier this week. In recent years I've started letting a lot of my root and leafy vegetables and herbs go to flower (despite traditional horticultural recommendations; no surprise there) because the flowers are often very pretty and unusual, they're attractive to good bugs, and the seeds help me keep the garden going on a tight budget. I find carrots especially fascinating, from the first fluffy flowers to the spiky, resilient seeds that can catch on a shirt cuff or a cat's tail and start a new carrot colony far from home.

Carrot flower, Aug. 2011

We all know that carrots have beautiful fern-like foliage that, sadly, is inedible, but when left to flower, a carrot also sends up a stalk that puts out a huge, showy white flowerhead that is busy all day long with all kinds of bees, wasps, butterflies and moths, and ladybugs. This may help explain why I never have to worry about low pollination or aphid infestations in my garden these days; in fact, I wonder if this is a bigger factor in "companion planting" (mixing herbs and flowers in with vegetables) than the specific plant combinations selected. Bring in more good bugs, and more good stuff happens in the garden -- how's that for horticultural good sense?

Pollinated carrot flowers turning into seeds, Aug. 2011

Developing seeds, Aug. 2011

As the flowers fade and go to seed, the head changes in fascinating ways, leading to the seed clusters shown at right and at the top of this post. They look so cool but also a little creepy, like a swarm of baby centipedes or something. I haven't bought carrot seeds in years, though, and having started with a non-hybrid variety I know I won't have to as long as I'm willing to "sacrifice" a few carrots every year. (Confession: it's pure neglect, or at least it was the first year I let some carrots go to seed; now I get to call it "seed saving" and feel all eco-conscious or whatever.) As you can probably guess from the photo at right, I have let more than a few carrots go to seed this year. I have had plenty to spare, though, and I just love watching the process unfold through the seasons, even all the way through winter as the seeds left out in the garden finally fall with the melting snow and plant themselves in the damp earth.

Carrot seedhead (the Mothership for part of this year's patch), Jan. 2011

No Place Like Home

Ed at sunset, Magdalena, NM, August 2011

Black swallowtail caterpillar in the dill patch, Aug. 2011

Oh how I love my home, as remote as it is, and my big garden and that view out on the "ranch" are just two reasons among many. Two weekly 200+ mile roundtrips to Albuquerque are starting to wear me out a bit (hence the lack of blogging lately), but I am absolutely loving internship -- every learning, growing, stretching, inspiring, rocking moment of it. Even the "failing" moments, those times I have no idea what to say or do next, have become great learning moments for me for two reasons: I generally suck at failing, meaning I never really learned how to handle it well because it was not "allowed"; and I suck at asking for help, which everyone needs to do sometimes so as not to fail again, or worse. This week especially I got some "practice" with these as well as core counseling skills, lucky me, and it was a timely lesson because I could feel my mind oscillating between, "Cool, I got this" and "Oh crap, what would I do if that happened??"

Zinnia among the fennel, Aug. 2011

I also love the drive home; I find every one of those 120 or so miles essential for processing the day's learning experiences, for unwinding, and for letting go of all the things I couldn't control or worried about or "failed at" or whatever. The drive up, I don't love that so much because that's when I worry, and I also just want to get started on the day, but my iPod playlists and podcasts keep me calm and well entertained, and I also get to contemplate the beautiful summer landscape.

Summer is almost over. Did I really just notice last night that the sun is a bit lower and is setting earlier, that the alfalfa fields along the Rio Grande are being cut and baled, that some growers are already selling and roasting green chile? The Blogger editor wants me to spell that as "chili" but that's not how we spell it in New Mexico, and if you've never had roasted green chile, well, it is an integral part of late summer and early autumn out here. Farmers and vendors set up in parking lots and sell sacks that you can take home and roast yourself or that they'll roast in big metal hand-cranked roasters for a bit more money. That smell... well, I'll get some pictures over the next few weeks, but you'll have to come out here in person to get the full sensory experience. And good luck trying to go back home once you do....

Fusion Beads Blog Bead Challenge!

August Garden necklace in brass, glass pearls, pressed glass, lucite, and Swarovski crystals

Earrings in lucite, crystal, brass, and glass

WOW did I have fun with Fusion Beads' recent blog bead challenge -- it introduced me to a color palette and materials I hadn't really worked with before, and I found myself energized by this combination. I've been ordering from Fusion Beads since 2007 and love their selection of beads and components, as well as the free shipping. I really hope they host more bead challenges because I just wasn't feeling creative lately, until I received the materials for this and started playing. Check out the other entries on their blog or Facebook page -- all of the entries are beautiful, diverse, and totally making me want to order another set and play some more!

Overview of "August Garden" set

I Heart Macro: A Moment in the Garden

Ladybug on dill blossom, Magdalena, NM, August 2011

Last night I realized I haven't been taking creative time for myself lately, so I vowed to kick off this week with a morning photo session in the garden. I spent almost an hour out there and came up with so many beautiful shots that I couldn't decide which one to post for this week's I Heart Macro... until I opened up this image in Photoshop. Catching bugs, butterflies, birds, and other mobile creatures is always a challenge, so I remind myself to just keep shooting until I happen to capture the creature looking fabulous. It's much easier (and more palatable from a resources standpoint) in digital to snap the 10 or 20 (or more) shots needed to get just the right angle and movement and light AND focus; last week's butterfly shot was the 27th of 32 shots (that was one patient butterfly!), and I wasn't even sure I'd caught it in clear focus till I opened the image file. The ladybug above only gave me 5 shots before flying away, so I know I got lucky on this one.

As always there are lots of beautiful entries for this week's I Heart Macro -- check them out and leave some love!

Summer Skies

Nighthawk at sunset, Magdalena, NM, August 2011

Reason #843 I love photography: I can't paint. Tonight's sunset was beautiful even if not splashy and neon, but just after the sun fell below the horizon it splashed color across the clouds that stopped me in my tracks. The texture and colors of the clouds made me think of the ocean, perhaps because my grandfather created similarly colorful, detailed skies in his oil paintings of 18th-century clipper ships. He grew up near the ocean and spent many vacations in "Down East" Maine, where his family came from, but I think if he'd ever come out west he would have found the skies here just as enchanting.


Sweeping sunset

I Heart Macro: Painted Lady

Painted Lady butterfly on Liatris spicata

I'm back in time for I Heart Macro; I had to take a bit of a blogging break in part to enjoy summertime and in part to begin adjusting to two 200-mile round trips to Albuquerque per week for internship. The drive is fine except for the busy interchange from 25 onto 40 on the way up; the drive home is easy (not much traffic at 7 or 8 pm) and gives me time to process the day. And every mile, every hour on the road is completely worth it -- it is an amazing learning and growing experience.

Today I finally picked up my camera again, just in time to catch this beautiful butterfly feasting in my front perennial garden. These flowers, known as gayfeather, seem to be a buffet for all kinds of fauna from bees to wasps to butterflies to goldfinches. Summertime is divine, this year as always, and now that the rains have begun both flora and fauna are flourishing. I hope you're all able to take some time out to really enjoy your summer!

Missing



Mom with Lazarus, Sept. 2002, Philadelphia



Dad, Mom, Laz, and Maggie, May 2008



One year ago today I awoke before dawn and raced 100 miles north to catch the earliest flight out of ABQ so I could be at my mom's side in Philadelphia as she died. In my mind every moment of that day, especially her final struggling moments, stands starkly apart from the rest of life. As the mental shroud of denial mercifully draped over me in the days that followed, I recall both breathtaking pangs of loss and a sense that she was just out on an errand and would come through the door at any moment. I remember thinking at some particular moment that I was doing okay, then I would hear someone speak of cancer or see a pink/blue/purple awareness ribbon bumper sticker and just dissolve. Awareness? All too much, all too keening, really to the point of paralysis because Mom's cancer bore down mercilessly, swiftly felling any thin shoots of hope and scorching bare the earth that bore them.

One year later, I feel I have mourned -- not completely (no such thing, I believe), but mindfully and thoroughly, to arrive at wherever I'm "supposed" to be after this first year. I still dream of her mystical reappearance. I still lament not only my own loss but the kids', and the flourishing gardens she does not gaze upon, and my new internship experiences we do not discuss, and my graduation next year she will not witness. I lament the loss of time with her. Do I honor her by lamenting? Probably not, because as I read through some poetry last night this verse jumped out at me as essentially Mom. So I'll honor my own process by continuing it and I'll honor Mom by posting this as a tribute to the joyful, colorful spirit that dwelled within her and remains with us.

Lament me not, but sing songs of youth and joy;
Shed not tears upon me, but sing of harvest and the winepress;
Utter no sigh of agony, but draw upon my face with your
Finger the symbol of Love and Joy.

Disturb not the air's tranquility with chanting and requiems,

But let your hearts sing with me the song of Eternal Life;

Mourn me not with apparel of black,

But dress in color and rejoice with me;

Talk not of my departure with sighs in your hearts; close
Your eyes and you will see me with you forevermore.
         -Khalil Gibran, "The Beauty of Death"

In Summer Time

Sunset over Magdalena, July 2011

O time of rapture! time of song!
How swiftly glide thy days along
Adown the current of the years,
Above the rocks of grief and tears!
'Tis wealth enough of joy for me
In summer time to simply be.
-"In Summer Time," Paul Laurence Dunbar

The Magdalena Mountains are open again for hiking thanks to a few good soaking rains over the past two weeks, and now I really feel like it's summer. Of course I can hike any time of the year, but ascending a thousand or more feet into a mountain forest makes for a wonderful retreat from summer heat. It's also a great vantage for capturing a sunset; tonight's made me think of a scene in some old religious movie when the sun breaks through the clouds and angels sing and the Voice of God bellows out The Truth. I have been missing "my" mountain hikes a lot, perhaps because as the first anniversary of my mom's passing approaches I feel growing anxiety and reawakening of those lost feelings I had during the weeks before and the months since her death. I spent a lot of time in these mountains last summer and fall, finding much solace in the cool air, the exquisite beauty, and the absorbing rigors of hiking. This evening, I felt that same peace flow through me as I pushed myself up a steep rocky grade with a friend and now with two canine hiking buddies... and when I saw this sunset, I guess I did have my own inner "Hallelujah" moment. Summer returns. Joy returns. Song returns.

"This is the land the sunset washes..." *

Sunset after a summer rainstorm, Magdalena, NM, July 2011

With the summer monsoons finally ramping up, we have clouds in the evening that make the sunsets even more wonderful than usual. Last night's sunset (above) was intense and colorful and complex, the pink glow from the setting sun seeming almost like crochet around the edges of the roiling clouds. Tonight's sunset, which I did not capture, was softer, with a far-off rainfall cutting right through the pink glow as the sun sank behind the Bear Mountains. Memo to self: always, always bring my camera, even on what I think will be a routine walk with the dogs. I love watching sunsets; I love sharing them with you even more.

* Quote by Emily Dickinson

The Creative Exchange: In This Moment

Blaze contemplates the setting sun. Magdalena, NM, July 2011

I'm rejoining The Creative Exchange, having lapsed not because I didn't enjoy it but because spring and summer activities have distracted me from regular blogging. But we all need creative time, right? So I hope to get back into the weekly routine and thank you for visiting. It's been a quiet week out here in western New Mexico's high country, where we're anxiously waiting for more rain. I'm especially anxious because despite last week's downpour the Stage 3 restrictions continue in the Magdalena Mountains, which means no hiking. So I feel all the more fortunate that we have property just north of town that, while not mountainous, offers some open, rolling space for stretching our legs and airing out our minds. Having a friend's horses and mule out there makes it even more enjoyable to visit; if I bring carrots or other treats, I have not only canine but also equine walking companions. We're a bit of a motley crew, perhaps, but a happy one.





I see more riding in our future, perhaps this week -- I'm still riding Blaze, Dad rides Damacio (above on the left), the kids ride Goliath (above right), and their friend rides Prescita (below right) and is thinking of buying her but keeping her with her "herd." Our friend the hunting guide rides Ed (below left), who is sweet-natured but a bit feisty and thus not yet a suitable mount for me or Dad till we gain more confidence and skill. Also part of this herd is Drago (not shown here; he was shy yesterday), who is also sweet but a bit undernourished at the moment and needing some riding rehab. The goal is for Maggie to stay on Goliath and for Laz to move up to Damacio, who is currently Dad's mount... well, in good time. For now, we're all getting to know each other, learning or relearning how to ride the range, and waiting for rain.

I Heart Macro: More Garden Visitors

Backyard box turtle, Magdalena, NM, July 2011

Time for I Heart Macro, and as usual I find plenty of inspiration in my back yard. I didn't know that turtles have brown eyes, did you? This one does, anyway; she lives in our backyard now, having announced her presence last week by striding across the back patio to help herself to Riley's food and water. Silly puppy, he didn't know what to do -- he yipped at her, but when she stuck her neck out and hissed he stepped back and sat down to watch. She isn't shy, that's for sure. (And while she might be a "he," I'll go with "she" for now because it's easier...)

Ants on purple wildflower (aster?)

I can't believe I missed I Heart Macro last week, but it has been busy around here lately. Riding in the Old Timers Parade was a huge highlight for the kids, and on Tuesday I started internship -- the final phase -- for my masters program in marital/family therapy. It went really well and gave me a major confidence boost that I've been needing lately. Despite having soldiered through two and a half years of intense graduate coursework with a 3.9 GPA, a big part of me wondered whether I had what it takes to translate all that theory into effective, compassionate counseling that could make a difference in people's lives.

I know I have a lot to learn over this coming year. I also really know now that I can do this, and that I have come a long, long way from the completely broken person I was in September 2008, and that all that brokenness and putting back together are at least as valuable as the coursework in creating the therapist I hope to become in the next year and beyond.

Singing and Dancing in the Rain

Maggie walks through the first real rain of the season. Magdalena, NM, July 11, 2011

Finally, the rains started in earnest today. We had a few minutes of light rain this morning, but the clouds hung around and then about an hour ago the skies opened up and gifted us with the deep soaking rain we've needed so desperately these long dry months. My fearless Maggie jumped up and ran right outside, coming back in for an umbrella just so she could see better through the downpour and make her way to the "rivers" running down the street. I'm so glad I handed her the bright pink umbrella... This photo is by far my favorite of the year.

The Other Side of the Lens: New Old Timers

My little vaqueros, in the only photo I took today

Today was the big day: Dad, the kids and a friend, and I rode in Magdalena's Old Timers Parade! A while back Dad arranged with a local hunting guide and outfitter to graze his horses on our land north of town, and in exchange he has been taking us on short rides to get us used to the horses (I rode constantly as a kid but until a few weeks ago had been on a horse all of 3 times in the last 20 years) and to lead up to longer rides later this summer. Somehow the subject of the Old Timers Parade came up... and there we were today, with me on the other side of the camera for a change!
  

Dad, looking like a pro riding the steadfast Damacio, led Laz and Maggie on Goliath the Imperturbable Mule

To be honest, it was a lot of fun but also a lot more work than I'd anticipated. The cars, buggies, and other horses in the parade and the big noisy crowds along the route provided far more commotion than the horses are used to, and most people who don't ride have no idea how sensitive horses are to their actions. I sure am now; I've been riding Blaze, one of our friends' stalwart pack and guide horses, and his usually calm self dissolved into a skittering, prancing hot mess as the noise level and crowds grew. The kids' friend was on the paint mare Prescita, who is a bit high-strung but usually sweet-tempered, but who just about jumped out of her skin (and out from under her thankfully-experienced rider) as it all pressed in on her. Big kudos to her for handling Prescita so well and keeping her cool.

The big sis of Maggie's BFF rode the very skittish Prescita, who reared in the middle of Highway 60, and I rode my usual steed, Blaze, who decided to be skittish as well -- we had our hands full but stayed the course.

Dad and the kids had much calmer mounts, and we all made it through by staying calm and focusing on the riding even as we smiled and waved to the crowds. I did have to mouth off a bit (my mama-bear side does come out sometimes) to people who drove or rushed way too close, and I rode right up to the Forest Service trucks to ask them not to blare their horns and sirens, something they'd done in parades past. When we got home, I retired into the A/C to shower and watch movies the rest of the day -- fittingly, The Missing (set and filmed here in New Mexico) was on and I got to enjoy some serious horse action, this time from the comfort of my cool lounge chair....

Wonder Pets: Riley at 14 Weeks



Cock-eared puppy! (Riley's ears are uneven because someone or something tore part of his ear before he came to us.)





Riley and Lucy... she is still boss, no matter how big he gets.

Riley's third vet visit yesterday went well; he got his third set of shots and weighed in at 37 pounds, up from 22 a month ago and 9 pounds two months ago. He is three and a half months old, and he weighs almost as much as a large sack of dog food. Whatever mystery mix of muttness he is, he's gonna be a BIG dog -- his paws are now larger than Lucy's. He is incredibly rambunctious but also sweet-tempered, and he sticks close by when we're out roaming the hills. I must admit I have given up on house-training him for now (we're all too busy to keep an eye on him), so I rigged up the perfect setup for summer: his kennel is in the dining room right against the sliding door, which is left open enough for him to enter and exit the kennel so he can be in the backyard whenever he wants and sleep "indoors" at night. I just can't deal with him in the house peeing and chewing and chasing the cats and stealing the kids' toys, but we get plenty of social and training time with him since we're outdoors so much. This setup gives me another few months to house-train him, before it gets cold....

BTW: Cloudy with a Chance of Spiders

Hobo spider checking out my beads... not really; I offed him -- look at those fangs, wouldn't you off him too??

Time for Bead Table Wednesday; there's a random title for you, eh? It is cloudy here in New Mexico today, which means our monsoons are gearing up and should arrive just in time for Magdalena's Old Timers Reunion this weekend. The "spiders" part of this title comes from the large, leggy creature that stalked right across my body at 1:00 this morning and landed squarely on my beading tray when I whacked it with my slipper. I rarely kill spiders (I am indeed one of those "get a cup! don't hurt it!" people), but this creature looked a bit too much like a Brown Recluse (*shudder*) for me to let it skitter away under my covers. Looking up spiders this morning (*shudder* again) I discovered it's too large to be a Brown Recluse and is more likely a Hobo Spider, also known as the "aggressive house spider." They do bite when "cornered," such as when a sleeping person rolls over on them, and while not fatal the bites can cause tissue necrosis and a wound that won't heal for months. I've seen two in my bedroom in the last few days, and that is SO not okay with me, so... dang it, time to do a deep cleaning.

Ocean charm bracelet in progress; I won't use the turquoise but like the color combination

In the meantime (if you're still reading and haven't run off batting away imaginary spiders), I'm working on a charm bracelet with shells, pearls, shell birds, and glass, and it needs a great ocean-themed focal piece. I thought about using a turquoise chunk but really want something more thematic (but not kitschy), perhaps in ceramic or metal. Any ideas?