Monday, April 1, 2013

Welcome to New Mexico, the Land of Enchantment

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.


  1. Wonderful story of the journey! I eagerly await your posting of photos with tapestries happily underway on your looms in their new home.

  2. I love your descriptions. I am pleased that you are home..............


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