for a miracle if some of the stuff I’ve been seeing is even half right though meanwhile life

goes on, within us or without us, with the dogs really enjoying the woods up Dry Creek on a

daily basis. There was a dinner [not shown] with Dean and Sibylla which subsequently led to engaging Manilio from Palermo* to wash our downstairs windows the day after and then

the very hazy day after that it was yet again to Pee-eb-oh-lo for a more intense and extended

stay comprising Gag’s, Liz’s Tamale House, Linda’s dentist, the Safeway, the Hardware,

a very porky pork and avocado burrito at Los Girasoles [with none of the usual lunchtime Hispanics in evidence – only three other rather ancient white people in the whole place], more

groceries from the Vitamin Cottage next door and a final trip to Blende where the Missing Medallion had finally come in. By then it was two o’clock and Once More into the Murk,

for many miles stuck behind an obnoxious smoke-spewer** which Linda finally managed to get around a bit before the Abbey Road Horse Motel, turned off as per usual at Exit 56 onto Red Rock [note redrock pile at 69] Road,

proceeded into the Huerfano and were home – after six hours on the road – to unload while the weather on the phone claimed it was nine degrees above the seasonal average at four

in the afternoon although our thermometers indicated twenty…NOAA’s New Normal?

Thursday we were back up the creek though since the logs in the woods where we used to sit have been gratuitously chainsawed other rests will have to be explored as stamina permits.

In the interim we remain content, especially having had a second whole day undisturbed

out among the rocks as well as precious time at home for reading and working.

 

*Manilio’s presence in the was the result of a fascinating series of coincidences including but not limited to meeting Tomás in Mexico who invited him up to Atzlán for the Sun Dance and where he ran in to Dean.

**It didn’t appear to be a particularly recent development as the rear of the car was so encrusted with oil one couldn’t even see the license plate, let alone read it, and the guy driving looked very like someone who wouldn’t want you to look in the trunk.