I have lived much of my life in New Mexico and it wasn’t
that long ago that I left the state for Colorado (534 days to be exact). I
didn’t think I was moving back soon, so I became a Colorado resident (again).
Surprise! It is back to New Mexico for me. Really they should just give me dual
residency, Colorado and New Mexico. It would be so much easier.
Last weekend I moved out of the little farmhouse near
Alamosa, Colorado. I loved the quiet there and watching the cranes, but I will
not miss the skunks! It will forever be known as the skunk house. In fact, I
woke up the other morning in the new condo in Santa Fe, and the first thing I
thought was, boy it smells really nice and clean in here! The underlying
skunkiness apparently just became a new normal during my time in Alamosa.
There was a Budget truck involved. Some crying… a stop at a
gas station in La Jara to get a soda to assuage the crying, and in my fatigue,
I failed to see the BIG no parking sign I parked the truck about 5 feet in
front of. The cop was nice and the tears probably helped me get off with a
warning. The truck got unloaded in Santa Fe and we went back to Alamosa for the
cleaning and the final load of stuff.
I didn’t do a great job packing the moving truck. I
underestimated the stuff in that house and didn’t go high enough. So at the end
I couldn’t find a safe place for my spinning wheel. She had to wait until I
returned with just the car to bring her to the studio. She got her own seat
right next to Cassy the dog.
Between Alamosa and Santa Fe is a mountain called San
Antonio. This mountain has threatened to take my life many times and I am extra
vigilant and say a little blessing for the mountain every time I approach now.
It doesn’t look scary in this photo, but believe me, it can be fierce.
Several times I have been stuck in white-out conditions in
my little Volkswagen Golf on this
stretch of highway and once was saved by a semi who apparently could see where
the road was from his higher vantage point, because I had no idea. All I knew
was that I couldn’t see the road, I knew there was a ditch on either side, and
I couldn’t stop. I could see nothing at all... just white blowing snow. I have
driven through there in the early morning hours to find thousands (I am not
exaggerating for once) of elk standing on the road. They don’t move easily
either. I think it is possible some of the big guys outweigh my car. And once
in May a couple years ago there was a freak snowstorm and I must have hit some
black ice because a gust of wind sent me into a spin and I was suddenly going
down the highway at 60 mph backwards. I didn’t roll. I did end up in the ditch,
but I was fine. I respect the mountain now.
The looms are slowly coming home to the new studio in Santa
Fe. The LeClerc has arrived, the workshop Macomber and Mirrix made it, the
Ladybug spinning wheel survived the car trip thanks to the seatbelt, and the
other looms will arrive this week from their long sojourn in a storage locker.
I can’t wait to tighten their bolts and warp them up. Just imagine the
potential of all those empty looms! I can’t wait.