The last week started off a little early [or bleary] with one of those three-bottles-of-bubbly-dinners with Patsy and Jon,
after which The Horses showed up…four on Sunday but by the next early morning
there were five there and no one we’d called had called back [cowboys, feedlot cowboys around here, tend to be of little help as they strive to maintain a strict code of Macho Taciturnity].
Labor Day was laboriously soporifically hot as the horses wandered Libre somewhat unseen
and Tuesday, hot again, necessitated a trip to High Horse Veterinary Clinic for a third
round of puppy shots followed soon after lunch by a fruitless search
for what had eventually been determined to be Vincie’s outlaw equines…who never turned up and in the most optimistic scenario may have left for a drink by the time Leon, Muffin, L. and
I scouted lower the lower lands. While down there Muffin convinced Leon
to secure the gate just in case [and we never saw them again, the horses, that is].
Wednesday we made a last trip to Walsenburg for food and such as well as to hear the sad tale of the Mysterious Submariner who, twenty years after moving into Snida’s house next door to our Habib Building and boarding up all the windows, had rarely been sighted or heard from
until we heard from Ed, over to trim our yard, that he’d rolled his car out on 69 last spring and, hearing the emergency vehicles’ sirens approaching, shot himself in the head, dead. Weird but sad, and now what will become of dear Snida’s old house? Years ago we’d have tried to buy and restore it but now we’re old and the Habib contains things like this below [1963-4]
which only goes to show that in the intervening 55 years I seem to have gotten much fussier.
We returned home, did two loads of laundry and took a rudimentary walk in the Near Woods
but Thursday at least made it up the creek, stopping off at Dean’s on the way back to return the not-so-inexplicably depressing video “Commune”, a documentation of the rise and continuing entanglements emanating from Black Bear which at the very least reinforced why I have always done my best to avoid drama, simultaneous relationships and free-range child abandonment.
Much of the rest of the day went into preparations like taking down and fixing two of Linda’s summer drawings and laying them out in the Toolbox to provide a clean wall as part of the
rearrangement of her studio for a long-delayed* screening of M. Metz’ bootleg of Robert Frank’s “Cocksucker Blues”, an event which had in the interim blossomed into dinner for eight, many of whom were neither that interested in nor even curious about CSB, the combination of Robert Frank and the Stones at their puerile nastiest being a taste some do not easily acquire but some [myself mainly] enjoyed immensely……lots of dishes, glasses and popcorn in the aftermath and another all-too-warm too-late-starting day followed with leftover popcorn wherein I finished a second pass through Murakami’s “Killing Commendatore” and enjoyed what proved to be the best studio afternoon yet [better late than never] during which Muffin made a house-call to give the pups [still hopeless on leashes] their rabies shots.
Unfortunately that night was yet again plagued with stuffiness and allergies so Saturday, despite skipping our last Farmer’s Market [L made a foray to the transitional P.O. anyway], was much muddled and more typical of what has generally been a singularly unproductive summer. Additionally, despite its proximity to our departure, we attended a potluck that night at DKD not only to see if rumors of Dan’s damage to the forest were truly as horrendous as reported and but more importantly to send David Pritchard and his family off to their new life in Jackson, Mississippi, a place I’ll likely never go. Driving up their road, Transformed by Gravel, the brutally amputated trees were an eloquently distressing testimonial to the “European-Forest-Fire-Mitigation Philosophy” espoused by several households hereabouts but the party [Dan is an excellent bartender, he and Sheila are superb hosts, and the company was splendid] was way more than pleasant and a Wonderful Last Event for us…
Sunday, not particularly renewed after another stuffy night [see yellow bushes, Chamisa aka Rabbitbrush, above], we topped off the water, walked our mile of Dry Creek, fired up [though, owing to an empty tank, could not run] Trigger, positioned the Tacoma for gradual loading and
made yet another unsuccessful attempt at Accustoming Dogs to Leashes….last days a-comin’.
That afternoon nonetheless all had a lovely little walk in rain and sunshine
before evening’s clearing allowed for tamales on the porch at sunset…
Monday, a day cooler than most preceding if not presaging Fall at Last brought laundry,
the mile up the creek, the beginnings of the aforementioned Gradual Loading
and after wrapping up some six paintings finally tentatively deemed Finished and
a penultimate look around Suburbia it was into the woods. The really serious packing and
loading came Tuesday, along with with a last four-dog romp up the creek after a detour
to Dean’s to give him seven eggs, a potato and farewell.
Then onwards
unto the exhausting finalization of the load [thanks to L.’s encouragement managed to fit the six + four paintings of various dimensions in along with all the rest] and leave
Various Explorations behind with time
for a last late wandering walk before the day wound down
wound down
into endlessly final details, dinner on the porch
and night, right?
Still all unknown is how a trip across the west with two dogs utterly terrified of leashes [and not too happy about riding in cars, either] will pan out…
*In 1979 I traveled to Berkeley to see Mr. Frank present the film but, similar in some ways to this viewing, my companions [who provided transportation] were insufficiently interested to arrive in time to hear him speak and by then the only seats were in the front row stage right so it wasn’t a very satisfying experience. It turns out most of CSB is by now available on YouTube anyway with better sound quality than we experienced Thursday here…the editing’s really the most striking thing about it; brilliant.
The dogs need time to acclimate to their new humans. Ahhh Lefty…
I love seeing the 60s piece.
And Linda’s new drawing.
Thanks for the link to CSB. I’m trying not to procrastinate from my “have-tos”…will continue with it later.
I’m reading Di Angulo…got the Indian Tales, The Lariat, and a nice Turtle Island copy of Coyote’s Bones.
A
well if this isn’t everything I needed on a day like today. , i don’t know what is. down here in Los Angeles (Topanga actually) and your missives always offer some breathing room & remind me to get back to out to Northern Nevada which looks strikingly similar to the area in which you live, I think ? anyway… thanks
Actually the last two months have all been southern Colorado…but despite a Lost Camera the next one wraps up with a few northern Nevada images…
are those echinacea flowers growing wild or been planted?
Planted…
Would love to see Linda’s drawing in person! Looked at your wall of “Explorations” with interest. Worried, when looking at the packed truck, about where the dogs would fit….. looking forward to that chronicle!
Truck has four doors and the dogs get the back seat…they still don’t tolerate leashes…