View from the road

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Yesterday, on the drive home

Yeah, but are you making any art?

No. Not at the moment. Honestly this move has been such a radical change for me visually, it will take some time to absorb and make any sense of it. Embroidery requires such an intense commitment to the original image, if I were to start a new piece, I know I'd abandon it mid-way. For now I'm content to just look (and hopefully see) and let things percolate in my brain a little while longer. I'm antsy to get my fingers moving, though, so I don't think this little hiatus will last too long.

What they tell me

It is the same story with "family farms" in Iowa--to keep the land, families have to look for other sources of income. Ranching is a difficult profession. Folks here have lasted through devastating droughts, and they've seen hard times before. Today ranchers will build a guest house or two on their land or they'll allow hunting. They'll build trails for hiking, birding, or mountain biking. I bear some responsibility here--to publicize the region so tourists will come here on vacation, and to build the economic development side of our program to assist landowners who want to diversify their business. This helps me feel needed here, although I recognize I'm not much help yet. I've got so much to learn, I don't always recognize the "dots" right in front of my face, even though my role is to "help connect" them. That's where a good board comes to play. And I've got a great board to help me learn as I stumble through.

The Chive-Eater

This is a fun thing to do: summon up as much derision in your voice as you can, and spew it out with venom:

"DAISY, you're A CHIVE-EATER! " (Go on. I dare you. It is fun to say!)

She'll look at you with slitty, guilty, "I dare you to punish me" cat eyes. Such is the daily drama of my life.

I have one window, which faces west and offers great views of Turtleback Mountain and Six Mile Mountain and sunsets. There's plenty of turf on this windowsill for garden and cat. (That's adobe for you!) But this little goofball is munching on only the chives, garlic chives at that. If I could just get her to eat some Altoids afterwards.

I promise: I'll try not to do this too often. (blog author + cat owner = obligatory-cat-picture-in-a-blog) This is supposed to be about far west Texas, not an online tribute to a cat, for pete's sake.

Friday Night Lights

Van Horn's Football Stadium!

Being a Good Neighbor

I want to tell you all about the Burro Lady, Caveman, and the Tormenter Guy. And I will, because there are great stories here, and you need to know them. But these are my new neighbors, and I'll be neighborly and respectful as I do so. If I make a mistake in portraying life here, I'll try to correct it. Oh, yes, and that's the burro lady's burro. More on her some other day.

One of my favorite writers, Martha Gelhorn, wrote a book about traveling by train through China with her husband, Ernest Hemingway, whom she referred to only as UC or Unwilling Companion. To prevent angering the Boo Radleys of the world, and to protect the privacy of friends and neighbors, I'll probably not use real names, either.

Look for the blue sign

The area I'm covering is VAST. Think of a space holding the District of Columbia, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New Jersey and three Delawares, and you've got some idea of the mileage I'll be piling up with my Forester.

For the record, the Texas Mountain Trail serves all of Brewster, Culberson, El Paso, Hudspeth, Jeff Davis, and Presidio counties. That's 21,772 square miles, including the city of El Paso, the Big Bend National Park, and the Guadalupe Mountains National Park.

Look at the map. We're that pointy corner of west Texas nestled under New Mexico, and bordered by the Rio Grande to the south. Mexico is below that. Exotic land for this midwesterner, and it couldn't be any more different from the other regions in Texas where I've lived--the Panhandle and Galveston.

Starting anew

Starting over has its challenges. Everything is new. You don't know where to buy cat litter. You don't know how long it will take to get from here to there. Getting a haircut is a truly frightening exercise in trust and communication with a stranger. You don't know much of anything except that you're on a great adventure.

Exploring by myself is fun, but it is so much BETTER to have fellow adventurers. So, in this blog I'll attempt to help you see what I see every day.

Why did I move here? Well, take a look at the view in the second mile of a typical run. Simply jaw-dropping beautiful. That's one reason.

Why call this "Second Mile?" For me the second mile of my daily run is the toughest. I've warmed up by then, and I'm listening to how my body feels. Finally on the edge of town, I'm enjoying the view, loving being outside, but am assessing my stamina for the day, and seeing how my body reacts to the hot sun and the wind and the exertion. By the second mile I know if I'm going to turn around right away, or if I'm going to extend the miles and get some good running in. If I'm up to the long run, I'm rewarded by a sense of accomplishment, endorphins, and a good workout. If I wimp out, I turn back prematurely, before the rewards can be realized. That's kind of where I am with this move, at the second mile, the tough one. The mile that tests my mettle. The days can be challenging, but the rewards are great.