Got 'er done

Yeah! Just finished my running for the year and 2007's mileage is.........700.07 miles! Yippee!

Still going

Sunny and crisp here, cold enough to wear two pairs of pants and three tops when running.

But I'm chasing the goal of 700 miles of running in 2007, so I keep going. Actually these days, I look forward to my runs.

In August I kicked my running up a few notches. Since then I've run at least 20 miles a week, with the exception of last week when I was feeling run down and trying to get a cold, which I never really got.

New goal: 1000 miles in 2008.

Now I reread the very first entry of this blog with interest...at that time a run of a few miles was really hard. I was dealing with the stress of moving, trying to settle in to the changes in my life, trying to adjust to my new job and community. Running helped. And I've turned to it every time I've felt challenged by something, and also (more and more frequently) when life was feeling pretty good. Now running is a joy most of the time. Sure, sometimes it not easy to get out there, and sometimes the run doesn't feel great--but when I stop, I'm always glad I did it.

"Prices for Tamales Dent Wallets"

That was the headline of the El Paso Times on Thursday, followed by, "Corn-wrapped delights go for$10-14 a dozen." Last year, a dozen tamales cost $8.

Tamales are a holiday food here, usually involving many family members in the making of the pork and red chile-filled masa dish. My initial exposure to tamales came in 1980, during my first Christmas in Texas. A couple of kids entered the neighborhood bar my coworkers and I frequented, carrying galvanized pails of the cornstalk wrapped treat, selling them for next to nothing....probably less than $5 a dozen.

The newspaper says the jump in the minimum wage, plus increased prices of gas and corn contributed to the higher cost of tamales. They're still a great buy. Two tamales for me makes a meal.

Not reindeer, but antelope on today's drive home

Come over and have dinner at my house!

A flurry of cooking this weekend: chili with chipotle and chocolate, cornbread casserole, steamed broccoli. And for dessert, your choice: pink grapefruit granita or pear caramel ginger ice cream!

Top Secret Project

The region got some good news on Friday, but it is hush hush until early February. I'll enjoy working on it...can't wait to tell you!

Border Absurdities

New government rules are due to take effect on January 31, complicating an already frustrating and complicated situation at the border. Currently it is easy to get into Mexico; the problem is getting back home. At the El Paso bridges, it can take 3hours to get back into the US from Juarez, and US citizens need only give an oral declaration to the Customs and Border Protection officers.

After January 31, every US citizen must show a passport to get back into the United States. Every postoffice in the area--even the tiny ones--are posting "passport hours" getting ready for the deadline. Lots of people here visit family in Mexico; buy their prescriptions in Mexico; even visit the dentist, who is likely US trained and offers services for a fraction of the cost.

The new rules even affects the raft and canoe tours of the Rio Grande. Because it is next to impossible to prevent a boat from traveling across the imaginary line at the center of the river and drift into Mexican territory, anyone taking a boat tour in our area will need a passport to get back onto Texas soil.

Visitors will no longer be able to book a river trip without a passport. How many Houstonians would think to pack their passport on a hiking trip to the mountains?

Currently there are no legal border crossings from Presidio-Ojinaga and Del Rio-Acuna, a stretch of 400 miles that includes Big Bend National Park. Before 9/11 there were informal crossing areas. Local folks are working to reopen a one lane bridge at La Linda, a former mining town in Mexico, which would help families visit each other again, and allow tourists an easier crossing to each country.

Too bad they didn't post the photos

Part of my job is working with travel writers and encouraging them to cover our region. In this case, the writer came to us out of the blue wanting to do an article about Van Horn. It was published in the December issue of Texas Parks and Wildlife Magazine. The online version doesn't do it justice...the photographs are stunning...but here's the link anyway!

December 12--Our Lady of Guadalupe Day

Shoot, I intended to post this on Wednesday...




An important holiday in Mexico...in honor of it, some images from the cemetery in Van Horn. You can read about the holiday here: http://www.inside-mexico.com/guadalupe.htm

Neatly Tended

All fall, there's been a transformation at this grave in Van Horn. First the hole, then the mound, then the mound completely covered with heaps of flowers, then bare mound again.

All of a sudden all of this appeared, the paint on the chairs still wet, and every item appearing to be deliberately set in place. Someone in the family has made a happy spot. The wind sometimes blows the orange dinosaur on its side, but someone always sets him upright again.

Hey, guess what?

I'm posting again! Check back in the next few days for a flurry of activity!

I hope I have the grace

A wise person once told me, "Do not allow yourself only friends your own age, because when they go, they'll all go at once."

This is very good advice, but also for the perspective brought on by age and experience.

Just now, I am getting a lesson in handling life's losses with grace and dignity.

I get calls from time to time from an older friend, "I got this email, I don't know anything about it, and maybe you can remember it for me." Or, "This lady called about a budget page that's due today for a grant, I don't know her name, but do you, by chance, know what she's talking about?"

Sometimes it can be alarming, what he forgets. His wife makes sure he remembers the important things, but the business details and names sometimes fall away. We've learned not to leave things for him--better to give them to her, or leave a note. Email sometimes confuses him--he'll forget or get alarmed by old correspondence so it is just best to conduct business in person.

What amazes me is his attitude. I have never seen someone lose something so vital and be so matter-of-fact about it. I know he feels it, but he doesn't show an ounce of grief over his inability to remember things. He just forges ahead, asks for help without embarrassment, as if it were perfectly normal to need help remembering the simplest things. And you know what? It is normal, very normal, and something most of us will probably face some day. But he always says with a smile and a chuckle--and says as if it were the first time, "you know, I sometimes can't remember things so well." Boy, do we know, but he makes it easy to want to help.

Winter weather

We may get a bit of snow tomorrow, but all week we've had typical Van Horn winter weather. When I get up it is in the 30s and 40s. By the time I'm ready for my run, the temp is in the high 40s-50s and the air is perfectly clear. By afternoon, it has climbed to the 60s or 70s. Sunny. Practically perfect. There are still mums and even roses blooming in the cemetery.

Over the holiday, Van Horn got 4-6 inches of snow, but of course, it melted by the next day.

Good news!

For months the word has been, "the Governor signed the bill with your program's funding, and we're waiting on the feds to sign off on it. We're optimistic, but we've heard there are additional recessions. No, we don't know when they're going to do that. No, they don't have a particular timetable for doing that either." And then from our state legislator, "I wouldn't be dancing a victory dance if I were you, I heard there are to be additional cuts at the federal level."

Cue to a closeup from a 1950's movie, the wind pulling the pages off a wall calendar one by one, the days, the months, just flying by. And all the while, not knowing when the news was to come, my life was just hanging there. I'd beaten the anger about it, worked through the periodic loneliness, and had come to the point of just trying to get as much out of the experience as I could. For the past few months, I just put my head down and wrote, promoted, uploaded, sat through meetings, made connections, and did everything I could so if the job ended, I'd know I'd made the most of the opportunity.

So coming back from the holiday (a good one) in Houston, I stopped at a rest area (all Texas rest areas have wifi!) to check my email.....and the word was there from the state director of the heritage trails program. The feds approved our funding. (long happy pause taking in the magnitude of it all)

The long year of uncertainty is finally over. There are still many details to learn--how much funding will we get (the initial proposal asked for 50% more and for five years), and when it will be available to us. Our funding agency also asked for a boost, so we anticipate even more services from them, if all goes well.

I have a board meeting today which makes for a very busy day, but will start posting again more regularly. I promise. There is value to living as if each day were your last, and that's how I've approached the job the last few months. But really that's kind of a burden too--squeezing every last value out of an experience--it feels very very good to have this feverish period over and finally, finally look forward to thoughtful planning for the future.

Billie Jo, Bobby Jo and Betty Jo

In a rush to get out of town and to the big city for the holiday, but wanted to post at least one entry before I hit the road.

It was a great surprise this morning to read that the University of Iowa Libraries is launching their online archive of art with some connection to the University, and to find that one of my pieces is included. I made this piece years ago, http://digital.lib.uiowa.edu/cdm4/item_viewer.php?CISOROOT=/dp&CISOPTR=1145&CISOBOX=1&REC=1 , when I was still an annual giving officer for the Foundation. Not a literal portrait of our annual giving staff (the incredibly energetic Kris, the tremendously fun Anne, and me), but an emotional portrait of tough smart girls, diplomatic and presentable on the outside but always ready to rumble in our bureaucratic playground. Not unlike the troublemaking girls of Petticoat Junction, only smarter.

Amusements with morning coffee

The first time I lived in Texas, I found myself in a similarly isolated small town. But that was before UPS and Federal Express went everywhere, before Netflix and before the Internet. Everything seemed SO far away.

Now I'm struck by how connected I still am to the world. I sit in my kitchen each morning, as I am right now, enjoying my coffee and perusing the Iowa City Press-Citizen and New York Times headlines online. (Favorite recent headline--and I'll let you guess which paper this comes from--"Too much pie? Never!") I'm set now that Marfa Public Radio is back on the air and my sister's gift of The New Yorker keeps arriving.

So I thought it might be fun to share my list of "faves" of the moment, which keep me connected to the visual, the urban, the wacky.

After checking overnight email and the newspaper headlines, I visit a few of these before I head out for my morning run:

• Texas Mountain Trail webstats (of course!)


• Smitten Kitchen http://www.smittenkitchen.com/ (Deb's won a food blog award in the humor category and her photographs are amazing! She's responsible for my new food adventures making bread and ice cream.)


• Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/ (To see what my friends are reading!)


• Bookcrossing http://www.bookcrossing.com/ (checking up on international programs, mostly)


• Manolo's Shoe Blog http://shoeblogs.com/ (Yeah, I know this goes completely against type, but he's funny and while I don't BUY or WEAR great shoes, I do like to look at them!)


• Red Lipstick http://www.redlipstick.net/blog/ (A refugee from earlier days in an all-girl punk band, she owns a boutique in Brooklyn and designs amazing knitted wear. She takes a very structural approach, almost an architectural approach to her work, and has been nominated for international design awards. Quick to anger, her tantrums are amusing and she frequently posts cute pictures of her dogs! What more could you want?)


• New York Nitty-Gritty http://otilius.blogspot.com/ (takes me to the city)
  
• 3191 http://3191.visualblogging.com/ (interesting partnership between friends living 3191 miles apart)
  
• Shorpy http://shorpy.com/ (historical photographs, including ours here: www.shorpy.com/texasmountaintrail
  
• The Sartorialist http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/ (Fashion on the streets of Paris, Milan, Bejing)
  
• A Dress a Day http://www.dressaday.com/dressaday.html (another in the category "My life is more about jeans these days, but I am still a girl!")
  

One more....favorite TV show of the moment is Ace of Cakes! Here's their website: http://www.charmcitycakes.com/ I tip my hat to anyone who takes a sculptural approach to things, including this crew who can pull off a convincing BLT or Taj Mahal cake with good (usually droll) humor. This link to a YouTube video might explain it: http://www.charmcitycakes.com/noflash/index.cfm?rd=blog&id=15

Okay, that's enough for now.

Exotic Popscicles

Today I have a full schedule of meetings in El Paso. There's a homegrown El Paso company I want to approach--not today, but on future trips--about including a mention of their products on a culinary itinerary of the Mission Trail. You can buy their exotic popscicles in every possible Mex permutation from street vendors or convenience stores, or even Blockbuster or Sam's Club or Walgreens--how about pepino chile limon (roughly cucumber/chile/lime) or tamarind or cantelope? I am amused by their claim for the pecan popscicle--"Helps Prevent Coronary Disease" and their coconut, "A Good Source of Fiber." Anyway these are fun and interesting treats to try, something visitors might not be able to get at home.

Check out this link to see the full list: http://fruitikifruitbars.com/home.html

What'cha doin?

Sorry, I'm pushing a needlework deadline. I'll post when I can!

Ranch Gates in Culberson County

Texans take pride in their land (never, NEVER trespass!) and that often translates to their gate design. Sure these are large, comparatively rich ranches and their gates reflect that. Some gates are humble, made with little more than pipe and barbed wire.

I hope to see some more examples of individual expression at the cemetery. Today is All Soul's Day and Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead). I don't remember much of a celebration in the past, but perhaps Van Horn will surprise me this year! I will post photos if they do!

If Edward Hopper lived in my apartment, he would do something with the view of the hardware store

How it looked 150 years ago

Many communities in Texas are gearing up for next year's sesquicentennial of the first transcontinental mail route, the Butterfield Overland Mail. This section of trail was used from 1859 to 1861, right by the fort in Fort Davis.

Wah hoo, Dallas Morning News!

The folks at the Dallas Morning News have published--not one, but two!--short notices about our latest tourism promotion of the Trail. First on their book blog: http://books.beloblog.com/archives/2007/10/texas_books_on_the_trail.html and then in their travel section yesterday: http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/fea/travel/texasneighbors/stories/DN-regnotes_1028tra.ART.State.Edition1.42852d9.html

We always expected that the Texas Mountain Trail BookCrossing Project would generate publicity outside the region and engage visitors in a fun way, hopefully encouraging them to extend their stay or come back to the region, but we're garnering an unexpected benefit--educating the locals about the various things to do and see out here. The frontline folks at the Chambers and RV parks and museums are also reading and enjoying the books. In our small towns, everyone is a potential ambassador to the tourists, so it pleases me that the sheriff picked up Nevada Barr's Track of the Cat, a mystery novel set in the Guadalupe Mountains National Park, just an hour up the road. The woman at the KOA is regularly posting her own travel recommendations to the bookcrossing website about the books I leave for tourists at the Kampground. Folks are getting into it!

Here's another "article" published on the BookCrossing website about our program: http://bookcrossing.com/articles/2771/Read-Your-Way-Down-the-Texas-Mountain-Trail!

And the bookcrossing page on our website: http://www.texasmountaintrail.com/home/index.asp?page=823

Bookends of the Summer

This morning was seriously cold. I bundled up for my run, pulling on items of clothing I hadn't worn since June's trip to Scotland. On went the headband to keep my ears warm, the red fleece cap, running pants, two layers of tops and a fleece jacket. Last week I'd been sweating hard in a sleeveless running top and shorts. And now it was 44 degrees with wind so fierce the flags were standing out straight. I didn't feel overdressed until I'd nearly completed my four circuits around the cemetery--2.8 miles. It was Edinburgh cold, that shocking cut-through-you chill we experienced on our trip at the beginning of the summer.

I pay attention to my internal dialogue, maybe because I spend so much time by myself. This morning, what I heard in my head as I started the run was an enthusiastic "fun!" reinforcing the fact that I've really become a runner. Maybe I'm still basking in another milestone set on Saturday, the longest distance accomplished without a companion--10 miles. Running this morning reminded me of cross-country skiing, working my body hard in less than wonderful weather, but experiencing the sheer joy of being out in IT.

This morning I remembered having an internal dialogue just before that trip to Scotland, the day I'd started packing those cold weather clothes, the day I was in El Paso to exchange dollars into pounds. Mere steps from the border, sweating and thinking I might buy one of those locally-made cantelope popscicles, I caught myself thinking in Spanish. That thought pleased me too, feeling I'd passed some milestone of assimilation.

Saturday, I got a call from a fitness camp friend who reminded me of an upcoming meteor shower. (Thanks Michael!) I stayed up hours beyond my bedtime and drove out to the pecan orchard and parked the car. The moon was very bright and I was far too tired, as it turns out, to be patient waiting for the shooting stars. But I did listen to the animals, coyotes howling, dogs barking, and sounds I did not recognize. The air was cool and clear, like one of those end-of-the summer nights in Iowa, a soft breeze coming through the open window. Some nights we would wake to the sounds of animals fighting, horrible, desperate sounds. It was clear that even in that in the most human-altered land (as agricultural land is) nature really doesn't belong to us, especially at night. In most respects we kid ourselves when we think we're in control.

It got chilly after awhile and I headed home. I'd had a big run that morning after all. So I turned on the ignition and the headlights and drove back to town, chasing jackrabbits as I made my way down the dark road.

Stitching again

There's nothing as powerfully motivating as a deadline, and an upcoming show got me stitching this week. I'm happy to report with a bit of relief since it has been so long since I picked up a needle, that I'm having a blast working on this new piece. More about that later.....

Old Texas 20--The Makings of a Travel Itinerary

I thought it was time to take you all to work. This was my Thursday morning, scouting out possibilities for a driving itinerary to put on our website. Eventually I'll weave this altogether in a culinary/mission church themed travel itinerary. There are other sites I'll probably add--a great steak restaurant on a ranch used by Hollywood, a couple more missions, some other good Mexican restaurants (with exquisite chicken mole!) and some pick-your-own or corn maze ag-tourism places on farms.

First stop, the Chile Store in Fort Hancock, the retail outlet for the only U.S.-based chipotle processor, still a family operation. Good dried chiles, spice mixes and smoked salt! And next to Angie's, a Mexican restaurant still using cone sugar in their pecan pies.
In addition to chile fields, there are pecan orchards, alfalfa fields, and here...cotton.

A stop in Fabens, a small town on old Texas 20. Here it becomes apparent I'm not really in the United States any longer, but I'm spending the morning driving through a place that is probably more Mexico than the U.S.

On to Socorro and the Mission Church there. Recently restored, the beams are from the original mission church near the current location. Those beams still have remnants of original paint from the late 1500s.

A sign of creative grave decoration, see the echoing of the church silhouette on the marker?

After a couple of meetings in El Paso, it was time to drive home in the waning sunlight.

Thistles at X Bar Ranch

Adventure on my mind

I have six months to figure it out: how to celebrate my 5oth birthday. I'm looking for something special, perhaps momentous, maybe very adventurous. Any suggestions?

In the next six months, I WILL do something I'd planned to do on my 4oth, learn to ride a horse. I had been frightened as a child, and was never really a horsey girl. Ten years ago I asked my friend Sara, if she'd go with me for my first ride. Sara is calm and solid and definitely knows horses--the perfect steadying influence. She agreed, but I put it off and then eventually forgot about it.

So while I ponder my 5oth, I'll finally fulfill an old resolution. I really don't think I'll be afraid this time out. Good thing I feel at least 10 years younger than I did 10 years ago, when I was feeling quite old indeed. I'm not afraid of much these days.

Sounds of the morning

On my trip home from Houston, I traveled through the Independence Trail Region, the Hill Country Region and the Pecos Trail Region before going home. I was following the route of old Texas 90, which went through communities with retaining the influence of their first settlers from Alsatia, through cotton fields, desolate flatlands, and spectacular canyons. Yesterday morning, I stopped at Langtry, Judge Roy Bean territory just across the river from Mexico. There I was reminded of one of the things I cherish about living out here--the sound of absolute silence. How rare it is; how utterly meditative. How impossible it is to experience most everywhere else.

Remembering that experience on my run at the Van Horn Cemetery this morning, I listened for the sounds of a small town starting a new day. There was the rustle of rabbits in the desert, children playing in the schoolyard, then the morning bell, then the marching band practicing for tomorrow's game. The horse neighing in his stall just outside the cemetery, dogs barking, the sound of my feet on the dirt paths, the "hello" from the woman walking behind me, the birds (mostly house finches this morning). Then the train burst through town, the county trucks of workers drove in, and they got their weedeaters out to groom the pathways. And thankfully, by the time they got started, my run was over and I headed home for breakfast.

ah, finally x 2

Back at home now. And it feels good to be in my own bed again.

Marfa Public Radio is back on the air, so the experience most of you take for granted--turning on the radio and actually listening to something besides dead air--is something I can experience again. I have been getting my public radio fix online through Iowa Public Radio, but it is good to now have a local station again. (The only other signal I get is from a Catholic station, which often broadcasts in Spanish. That's how far out we are.)

A note from the road

I'll get back on the road for home on Tuesday, making it back to Van Horn on Wednesday. This has been a successful and enjoyable trip. Next week is a big one for me, as we launch our Texas Mountain Trail BookCrossing Project on Friday and Saturday. You can read more about it here: http://www.texasmountaintrail.com/home/index.asp?page=823

It is always a great change of pace to work from the road. I sit down in a laptop friendly coffee shop and get a couple of hours of emailing in--sometimes in two sessions to be polite to the establishment--and get quite a bit done. I see and hear things I'd never hear at home. The place I'm working now is a relaxed coffee spot, a favorite for first dates and casual get togethers. Friday I sat next to a couple obviously assessing whether a second date would occur. He was too aggressive in his sensitivity and she was polite but remained unimpressed. When I heard him say, "I learned that in my essential oils class," I was reminded I was NOT in Van Horn.

I like getting emails on the road. This is the first week of the Texas State Fair, so Larry and I have begun our annual debate as to which fair is the best, Iowa's or Texas'. Since the evidence is not in his favor, Larry obviously needs a partner in this endeavor so he's gotten Michael into the act, who has the misfortune of directing a museum located on the fairgrounds, so he's there EVERY DAY, which must be a special kind of hell. Michael sends silly photos of the fair in defense of their misguided assumption of Texas' fair dominance--the fried latte booth, the judging of craft 'masterpieces,' and a smallest champion hog I'd ever seen....which was clearly not up to Iowa standards.

When I pointed out the obvious, Michael had this to say, "Boris’ official spokesperson here says that after the Texas State Fair, Boris actually heads up to Iowa to spend three weeks at a special hog spa to slim down. I think we need to cut old Boris some slack anyway since he is encamped for 24 days in a stall adjacent to the Owens Country Sausage Pavilion and Restaurant, which can’t be good for his psyche, sort of a constant reminder of the impermanence of life."

And reading that, I pretended to be ashamed but Larry and Michael know me well enough to see through that nonsense. I hear the "best" food this year is the fried cookie dough. Count me out.

After months of lusting after the ice cream maker and cookbook I read about in the many food blogs I read each week, I finally got them both. The first batch of fresh orange sorbet was yummy, light and not too sweet. Sara emailed, "Now that you have an ice cream maker, you will never need anything else! Life will be perfect!" And she's practically right! I'm going to be the only one in Van Horn game enough to try cranberry-ginger and earl grey sorbets. Van Horn's distance from shopping centers is a relief most of the time, but when I get to the city I tend to STOCK UP!

I also have been keeping up with the running, posting my 6th consecutive 20 mile week. In fact, this was a 24 mile week. This morning we did 12 miles, my personal record. It wasn't pretty but it felt good to go that long. It will take me awhile to work up to that distance running by myself, but I'll get there. Now that I have that ice cream maker, I'll need the miles.

More later, when there is actually something to say.

Out and about

I'm off to Houston for about a week, first for a travel conference and then just working out of the city for a few days.

I'm writing this from the back porch of the X Bar Ranch, http://www.xbarranch.com/ one of the pioneering places in successful nature tourism in Texas. Met the owner at a conference and had a good time sharing ideas, so thought I'd break the long 10 hour drive to Houston into a two day trip. Last night I had the ranch to myself, so I was able to have a nice quiet hike on the property in solitude. And this morning watched the sun rise while I enjoyed my oatmeal on the porch. They quote Marjorie Rawlings on their website, which I love and respect.

More later from the big city, I imagine.

This morning, 8 am

So did I tell you about Caveman?

I know from my friend Susan from tiny Neola, Iowa, about the concept of small-town nicknames. They help bond people together in a tight community, like twins sharing a private language. The names may be placed, almost inexplicably on a person who is destined to live out his days as, well, "Mouse," or "Gunner," or maybe "Bruiser."

My first winter, before the washer and dryer were installed in the apartment building, I had a special window into life in Van Horn through the laundromat. There I'd see all generations--mostly at their worst--as laudromats don't seem to bring out the best in us, now do they?

On one of my first visits to the laundromat, a guy tried to pick me up. His opening line was, "got any kids?" He was missing several teeth, was impressively rotund, and had trouble putting a full sentence together. At least he was clean, and fairly polite for not seeming to know, really, how to be polite. He was awkward and stumbled around and seemed a little surprised when I wasn't interested. Maybe he was more than a little miffed, but he retreated at my rebuff with some dignity. And thanks to Doreen, who's well-timed call to my cell phone allowed both of us a respectful parting.

Later I learned his name was "Caveman." But recently I learned the genius of that moniker. Apparently, Caveman didn't walk upright, so the story goes, until he was in SECOND grade. Poor guy, he may never escape that.

Sleeepy Horse

That mountain back there sports the highest point in Texas, Guadalupe Peak in Guadalupe Mountains National Park.

The result of some good rain

Self-reliance

Living out here, you learn to adjust or do without. Case in point: bread. The quality of the bread in the grocery stores is unmentionable--gooey wonder-type sandwich bread not worth eating, or fake whole wheat ready to burst into (or perhaps it already has right there on the shelf) an impressive display of mold.

So I've learned to bake my own, which is rather easy, given the altitude lets dough rise in no time at all. My favorite bread recipe is the often discussed New York Times no-knead bread, which I've made plain and with anise seed. One of the women in the hiking group has made it with orange juice and pecans (easy to get since we grow them out here), and she heard of someone making it with beer. Here's the link to the recipe on one of my favorite blogs: http://smittenkitchen.com/2006/11/one-for-the-sling-files The moist springy texture of the bread is just superb. The recipe calls for hours and hours of letting the dough rise, but at this altitude, I can start this one in the morning and have hot bread for dinner.

So this bad-bread situation inspires adventurous cooking, and when a recent visitor mentioned english muffins and even looked up web recipes for me, well, I figured it was time to try them. I didn't know that english muffins are a yeast bread that you bake on a skillet like stout pancakes, did you? Have to tell you these are dense, but wonderful. Here's the recipe: http://www.cooksrecipes.com/bread/english-muffins-recipe.html They take some time, since I only have one skillet, but the results are worth it to me.

Frozen food is also a challenge, since the distances don't allow you safe transport in the ice chest. Just forget frozen pizza or popscicles or ice cream (except natural foods brands through the co-op). So I was pleased to find a Central Market recipe for a frozen mango treat, mango being one of my favorite foods and fairly easy to get cheaply here. Since the occasional street vendor will have 15 mangoes for sale for $10, I make these whenever I can.

1. Scoop out the flesh of 4 mangoes (reserving the 2 side shell skins or "boats" of each mango), and put flesh in a blender with 1/2 cup plain yogurt, 1/3 cup sugar and 1 Tbsp. fresh lime juice to taste. Blend until smooth.

2. Spoon the mixture into the 8 reserved mango skin shells and freeze. Ready to eat in an hour or so.

3. After frozen, these can be wrapped and kept in the freezer, taking them out an hour before eating to thaw a bit.

And I've found a way to make smoothies for breakfast! If fresh fruit isn't available, I use frozen which I've found can get a little thawed on the way home from the city grocery store and refrozen without much trouble. I hear you don't lose too much nutritional value with frozen fruit, an added bonus. Here's what I do:

1. Put a ripe, peeled banana in the blender. Blend on high until liquified.

2. Put your choice frozen or fresh fruit in there too. Mango and raspberries are my favorite, but just about anything will do. Drained, canned apricots lends a rich smoothness to the drink.

3. Put a large dollop (1-2tbsp. or so) 0f plain non-fat yoghurt and blend. I buy a case of Nancy's brand through the co-op and keep it in the freezer, thawing only a quart container at a time. Nancy's seems to retain its texture through this process with just a tiny bit of fatigue.

4. Add milk, and blend. That's it. Not terribly sweet, but just sweet enough with the right fruit. You'll get a hang for the proportions quickly. It is all a matter of taste.

So good food is here, you just have to make it yourself. Good pizza (inspired by Steve and Becky Smith), good bread, good smoothies, good frozen mangoes. I've even made my own version of one of Houston's best tacos, black bean/chicken/plaintain, yum. Since fresh herbs are hard to get, I have to adjust using dried, and Mexican spices are incredibly cheap compared to those from U.S. companies. A limitation for me is the lack of good, really good cheese, but the co-op had started carrying some New Mexico goat cheese, and I'll give that a try.

It makes sense to steer towards the foods that are plentiful here--mango, avocado, peppers and chilis, and Mexican zucchini. Does anyone have a good healthy zucchini recipe which doesn't call for exotic cheeses or lots of sugar or fat? Would you send it to me?

More hiking ahead

I'll miss the next outing of the women's hiking group at the end of the month because I'll be attending a conference in Houston. But thought I'd pass along this photo of a spring outing at Hueco Tanks State Historic Site, a place of boulders, caves, and pictographs...just because it is Friday and we need inspiration on Fridays, correct?

If I engineer my schedule correctly, I'll be able to hike Monday and Thursday next week. I'll work most of the weekend to manage it, but it will be worth it.

Another Van Horn Surprise for the Television Viewer

Shanna, my landlord, rancher, and future restauranteur worked in Dallas with the best Top Chef contestant, Tre! I thought Tre left before he should have, and Shanna agrees!

Isn't it about time you posted a photo? Something uplifting, perhaps?

Here you go. A rainbow by Turtleback Mountain, as seen from the cemetery!

Happy Anniversary!

Please send good wishes to my parents celebrating their 51st wedding anniversary today!

Crepi il lupo

Funny, you can find motivation in the oddest places. Not too long ago I picked up a silly, quirky book in the free pile outside my favorite bookstore, Rosie Little's Cautionary Tales for Girls. Hidden in this very girly tome is a phrase I love. At this particular place in the book, a young woman searches for the best way to offer luck, instead of "break a leg," there is "in bocca al lupo," or "into the mouth of the wolf. It is an Italian phrase that is meant to bestow luck and instill courage and it is properly answered, crepi il lupo: I shall eat the wolf."

I can just see myself running hard on those difficult days, pounding the dirt path in the cemetery muttering "I shall eat the wolf, I shall eat the wolf!" I shall eat the wolf!!!

I am Helene Hanff

Last night I downloaded "84 Charing Cross Road" from Netflix, a favorite movie I hadn't seen for a very long time, and it struck me that my life out here is very much like Helene Hanff's. I live in a too small apartment (though in the desert, not NYC), have a solitary job (not screenwriting, but tourism), have to be self-reliant, and tend to create vibrant niches for my time. For Helene, it was British Literature and her correspondence with the folks in the London bookstore. For me, I guess it is chronicling life out here on this blog. While I still carry some of Helene's scruffiness around the edges, I can clean up pretty well, just as Anne Bancroft did in the final minutes of the movie.

Everyone whines about there not being good scripts for middle-aged women. I'm a sucker for the good "little" story. Both the book and the movie satisfy quite nicely.

Apparently, the cartoons got it right

Roadrunners have quite the personality on them, Robert and Nada tell me. They get attached to humans.

Nada likes to keep a metal tub filled with water out in the yard for all the critters that pass through. She keeps a garden hose in the tub, so it is handy when the tub needs refilling. When the hose slipped out of the tub during a storm, one of "their" roadrunners pecked at the bathroom window until Nada came out of the house and put it in its usual spot.

One day Robert had to work on his truck out in the yard, and a roadrunner stood on the edge of the engine watching him and talking to him the entire time.

Paul and Sheila tell me a roadrunner likes to call and prance and put on a show off for them whenever they visit their ranch.

Oh yes, and they kill rattlesnakes! They are said to pick up a snake by its tail, and kill it by slamming the head against the ground!

Three Snake Stories

We've had so much rain this summer; the mountains are GREEN. This means life is especially abundant--we still have wild flowers about, but we also have quite a few snakes. That's okay, because they'll take care of the desert rat population, too. Everyone has their rightful place in an eco-system.

Story 1. Teamwork.
Robert and Nada live in a trailer 10 miles east of town. When you live out in the country, the roadrunners tend to adopt you. Last week they told me three roadrunners herded a rattlesnake away from their front door and under their trailer. One roadrunner took the right, another the left, and the third walked behind the snake, until it was completely under the house and out of harm's way.

Story 2. Plucky Girls with Machetes.
In the early days of the Mitre Peak Girl Scout camp, things were a little different than they are today. The counselors and the campers did heavy labor, character-building work. They cut trails, cleared campsites, built gathering places in the forest. The 9, 10 and 11-year olds revered their counselors, all recent high school graduates. This is no wonder, because the counselors were trained--upon seeing rattlesnakes--to take out their camp-issued forked sticks and their machetes, and kill those snakes dead!

Story 3.
The Stupid Tourist. Act 1. Many years ago, I attended a conference near Sundance in Utah, high up in the mountains. During one break in a session, I saw a moose (yes, my first!) lumbering away from us down the road. Without thinking, I grabbed my camera and took off towards him, only to fully reckon his immense size when he turned around and headed towards me! Running in fear, and then hiding behind a parked car, I told myself I was an idiot, a stupid tourist who should know better. And yes, the other conference-goers saw the whole thing. Dumb me. The Stupid Tourist. Act 2. When my running partner was here a couple of weeks ago, I felt comfortable taking to the roads for a daily run. I loved the change of scenery, and the companionship, and this was a particularly beautiful spot. At the end of our hot, challenging, hilly run, I saw my first rattler (in two years, that's not bad!) stretched out on the road. A long fella--a diamondback--he didn't seem menacing. But I got too close for my companion's comfort, and, in retrospect, my own. Later a snake expert friend of ours told us they're unlikely to strike when all stretched out; when coiled, that's when they're ready for action. I knew that, but in some respects, I still plenty to learn here.

Hallowed Ground and the Lore of Girls

I hear that girls don't want to be Girl Scouts anymore, and if they do they're more interested in computer camp than camp-camp. That's a shame, because there aren't better memories for me than my earliest outdoor experiences. Saturday, our women's hiking group explored Fern Canyon at the Mitre Peak Girl Scout Camp outside Fort Davis, a far more spectacular setting than Camp Kitanawa near Battle Creek or the camp at Lake Bloomington. These Texas girls were lucky, what a special place to test yourself and learn you were strong. And on Saturday, we weren't women in our 40s and 50s and 60s anymore, we were intrepid girls forcing our bodies through crevices and scampering over the rocks.

Mary brought her camp photos from her 1959 Brownie camera--tiny black and white images of girls from flat, desolate Midland sitting around campfires, swimming between boulders, mugging for the camera. We retraced young Mary's steps through Fern Canyon, where some ferns were green and others dormant, just waiting for water. We scared off javelina, who headed up the mountains as we tromped through. Then to the first pool, where the frogs chirped and leapt into the water when we arrived. And then to the second pool surrounded by red boulders, the bathing site of the earliest campers. This is where we stopped for lunch, watching the fish in the water below, sharing Kate's magnificent chocolate oat bars and contemplating our younger selves. Mary pointed out Frankenstein, a monster from their ghost stories, really just a knobby rock formation overlooking the camp. She noted time has given him whiskers, since trees appear to be growing under his nose and chin.

Mary was there in the early days of the camp, when the older campers really built the place, cutting trails, digging trenches, hard sweaty character-building work. She told us stories of plucky girls, torrential rains and flooded tents, javelina and snakes. More about snakes next.....

...and we're back!

I apologize for the long time between posts. Truth is, I have had a hard time dealing with the social isolation here. Sure, I have great friends in the region....but they're not in Van Horn, they're at least an hour's drive away. So I've been weighing the pros and cons of staying or going. As the days move forward, I think I've made a decision one way or another and then something happens and I'm Jack Nicholson in "Terms of Endearment." You know the scene--Shirley McLaine proclaims her love for him and he says, "just when I was about to make a clean getaway." I'm just taking the days as they come, but know a change of some kind is afoot. There's also a relationship to consider, with an urban-based sweetheart who would really rather be here, but life's interventions seem to be delaying the move. Anyway, I've had a lot to think about, so I've been very quiet. Thanks for hanging in there with me.

Update: to answer a question from a reader, no this isn't a doctored photo...this is how the light looked early this Saturday morning!

Three Notable Sightings in a Mile and a Half

1. Parakeets and cages for sale in a vacant lot on the main drag.
2. Also for sale, a bright green plastic cow head used for lasso practice.
3. The new math teacher, a nice young black guy. This is notable because the most recent census figures show Culberson County has 2000 Hispanics, 700 Whites, and 20 Blacks. Think about it, just twenty.

Cake Pride

Two more historical photographs from Van Horn's museum collection on online at www.shorpy.com/texasmountaintrail

I wanted to name the first one, "Cake Pride," but shorpy's administrator thought otherwise.

Confession: I sent the anonymous comment about the hankerchief. My grandmother used to put hers up her sleeve, but I only remember her doing that with LONG sleeves, not short ones!

Oh, and you can click on each photo to get a closer look! Please do, as it helps our stats!

Tonight after dinner

Movies

Out here I rely on netflix, and because of that I've seen some good ones.

This weekend I saw a film that instantly joined my "Top Movies of All Time" list, "The Girl in the Cafe." A May-December romance between two people so socially isolated they might have been found in an Edward Hopper painting, the movie gives a twist I can't discuss, because it will spoil the surprise.

And before you see the new Catherine Zeta Jones movie, please see "Mostly Martha." I can't imagine how Hollywood could ever improve on this wonderful German film. You owe it to yourself to see "Martha" first.

Closed

It happened without me knowing about it, the Blue Quail Coffee Shop closed on Friday. Just a half block from my apartment, it was my Cheers, a place I could enjoy some tea or wine on the patio, taking in the orange adobe walls against the blue sky. It was the place I could eavesdrop on cowboy conversations, or catch up on what was happening in town. Paul and Sheila just got tired of running the business, and I can't blame them. They deserve to do something less strenuous--Paul being well into his 70s--it just wore them out.


Nothing stays the same, to be sure, but the Blue Quail was the strongest bit of hope for this town's fragile efforts at progress.

The Challenge of Landscape

Two years here now, and some clarity is starting to push itself to the surface.

In Iowa, there was a lot of talk about a "sense of place," and I felt it there -- a palpable, but gentle connection to the land that was deeply emotional. I felt tied to the growing of things, to the calendar of planting and harvesting built on tradition and experience, to the bounty that the land would bring us.

Here the land speaks more of challenge. They are "my mountains" now, and the connection to them is as real as to the rolling green of the Midwest. But they are a symbol of the challenge of life, of the tests I put before me. In my reading about landscape, I've come across some relevant references to the book of Job. In despair over the trials of his life, Job turned to God for answers and he was told to look to the power of the earth, the awe, the scale of forces larger than his own life.

It is easy to forget this in the city. The problems there are largely of our own making, and it seems that if we just put our minds to it, we could fix them--poverty, homelessness, traffic. That they exist feels more an indictment of our lack of caring, our collective selfishness in pursuing modern life.

We are behind in many ways, a victim of our own remote geography. When I moved here, I learned there is no overnight delivery, and power outages regularly last a full day. Internet connections are unreliable. When the rains roll off the mountain and make the roads impassable, there are no alternate routes. You just wait for the water to clear, even if it takes hours.

My friend Annette with the Council of Governments, is in charge of establishing 911 addresses for every location in the region, an area the size of New England. This has taken her several years. County land maps can not be duplicated in the usual ways, since the only official record are hand-drawn maps with information written on tiny paper flags mounted with straight pins. Nearing the end of this project, she's resorted to hiring pilots to find and photograph locations she's missed. There's more out here than anyone can get a handle on, and there's a limit to what our computers and technology can do. Yet, she has the task of making sure everyone anywhere in the region can get emergency help, an aching responsibility.

We both know that in most battles out here, land will dominate man. The desert is stronger than you. The mountains are bigger. That's something we have to accept. Our modern lives are at the mercy of the power of the landscape. Forget for a minute that en masse, humans can destroy what we have out here. One-on-one--on the scale of our individual lives--were are not powerful or particularly important next to the land.

Many would say I placed myself in peril, away from friends and family and with fewer financial resources than I had in Iowa. But I gained a sense of resilience and trust in myself. I feel more powerful, willing and better prepared to take on tough problems. But equally important, I'm starting to learn that some challenges cannot be easily fought. There's grace to be found in acceptance, that I might do better just to release to the power of challenges as big as the mountains.

Kazoo Band, the Sophomore Year

As readers of this blog know, one of the challenges living here has been finding smart, talented women friends (they're out there, they're just a long drive from Van Horn), so last year it was tremendous fun to be installed as part of the women's kazoo band in the Fort Davis Independence Day parade. You can read the full report through the July 2006 archives link to the right--page down to "Our Lady of the Kazoo." This year I was no longer the newbie, as we had two more like-minded women joining us in the band.

We also took on a political message, which I'll cover in a future post. Many of the attributes we hold sacred about the region (quiet, clean air, no traffic!) are being threatened by a proposed truck route from Mexico to Midland/Odessa right through our small towns. Our brown shirts say, "Save Big Bend, Save Copper Canyon, STOP LA ENTRADA" but more about that later.

What's important now is that we had another great weekend with friends--the silliness of the parade, the excellent porch-sitting skill displayed, the endless spread of good food--a perfect July 4th weekend. To have history with friends, though, that was the sweetest part of it for me.

No Excuse Now

I'm not going to bash the cuisine of the British Isles, because nearly everything I ate on our trip was interesting and delicious, which is more than I can say for the average restaurant meal in El Paso. This is also a testament to the value of guides, who could steer us to the best establishments and also make recommendations of what --and what not to--eat.

I've always fancied myself as a fairly adventurous eater, willing to jump in front of a plate of well....anything. But it dawned on me sitting in front of a truly good plate of haggis, neeps and tatties at a Scottish pub, that I best rethink my self-image as an eater. More about that later.

First things first, the desserts are wonderful.

Banoffee pie (banana and toffee!)
Cranachan (oats, raspberries, cream)
Sticky Toffee Pudding (steamed and sticky!)
Ginger cake
Crunchy Lemon cake (crystallized lemon sugar on top)
Rhubarb crumble
Coffee walnut cake
Brandy truffle
Lemon tart!

On to scones. Our guides said, "Scones at tea--a fine example of the sum is greater than its parts." True! Layer clotted or double cream, then jam on top of a scone and you are in for an eyes-rolling-back-into-your-head extraordinary.

Potatoes. When's the last time you had a truly delicious potato, one that made you stop in mid-chew and say, "wow?" Every one I had in Scotland was flavorful all on its own, with a pleasing and tender texture. No grainy, mushy taters there!

Speaking of mush, there was an interesting (and again, surprisingly good) dish of dried and then reconstituted peas. Mushy peas, they're called. Trust me, they're good.

Root vegetables galore. Rutabagas (neeps), parsnips, carrots, taters (tatties). I love root veggies. You have to respect a country that enjoys parsnips.

And peas...really good peas, becaue they're a local food. One beautiful morning, I strolled past huge field of organic peas, a very pretty crop.

Sandwiches, now. Bacon sandwiches for breakfast! Chip sandwiches made of french fries tucked between bread. Okay, so I didn't try these, but they sound interesting, no?

Hands down the best lunch was the Ploughman's Lunch at the Scottish estate in continuous habitation for 900 years. You can see a photo of the plate above. Lovely potato salad, bit of chutney, cheese, waldorf salad, pickled items, tossed salad, apples. (Thanks, Dad, for a photo of your lunch!)

Meat. For this former vegetarian, the options for meat were a culinary dive off the high platform into very deep water. Sure, there was GREAT lamb, but also several dishes of unspeakable animal parts, usually presented in sausage form. But you knew they'd been procured from the local butcher shop on High Street, the main street for commerce and community in each town. Folks gather at the butcher's or the baker's shop to meet their neighbors. Walmart hasn't succeeded in the UK--and we know this all too well here--because they are more interested in undercutting prices than in supporting community. Hey, for that reason alone I'll try black pudding! And all of it was tasty.

So this brings me back to my initial premise: if I can eat haggis (top, first photo) and black pudding with gusto where it is a traditional food, I guess I'll have to buck up and try menudo here at home!

More of beautiful Scotland