Sidetracked Charley

Junkyard Sculpture by J. Binford-Bell Cars and relationships break. Mechanics exist to fix your cars and inspire you with hope that it will roll again. Lawyers exist to not fix the marriage but profit from its breakdown. I will always need a car and ergo a mechanic. But if I never get married again I will hopefully not need a lawyer. At some incredibly early age I announced to my mother that I had absolutely no intention of ever getting married or having any children. The latter decision came from the infant science of genetics in my biology class and my exposure to raising pedigreed dogs. The first part of my declared knowledge came from my close observation of people. Most of the married ones I knew just did not seem happy. And Mother, when most unhappy, talked about all she gave up to marry my father. But I was married twice. I think of them as huge mistakes. So was just living together with Bruce after college. Tip: When you move into their house (owned or just rented in t

It is often hard in this modern age to untangle confusion. I didn't give it a second thought when my ex-husband died that it would still be effecting my life two years later. We had been divorced for longer than we had been married and he had married his first wife again. I fortunately only met the sainted Elinor once. By Marc's death bed. She expressed regret that she had won the pitched battle between us. Such is life. It is hard to see ahead to the consequences of our actions. And my error was in keeping my name. I had garnered a reasonable reputation as an artist and writer working with the hyphenated Binford-Bell I still use. Add Jacqui to that mix and Google informs me there is actually only one of me in the world. Marc and I also worked really hard to separate our finances and credit ratings upon our divorce. But then he remarried the sainted Elinor of two chapter 7 bankruptcies. It was at a time I was not worrying about credit. Head injury. I was more concerned w

Top of the World by J. Binford-Bell It is that time of the year again when my sister and I go off-roading in search of the perfect Holiday Tree. And admittedly we do a lot more searching than finding. We can be very picky. Besides which the searching is a lot of fun. It all begins with a trip to the Taos office for the Carson National Forest where a permit is obtained. Then you cannot go back by way of US 64 but must go through Talpa to take the backroads over the mountain while looking for a suitable tree. This you mark in your GPS so you can return on Thanksgiving day with the saw and tie downs, etc. The tree has to be cut on Thanksgiving which is why you just cannot cut it while going back over the mountain. But it raises two problems: finding the marked GPS location on the GPS, and then finding it in the real world. High Country Christmas Tree Lot Then, of course, there is remembering which of those trees at that location you thought was so perfect. This year none o

Walrus and the Carpenter "The time has come," the Walrus said, "to speak of many things. Of shoes and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and kings." I confess. I was one of those kids whose parents read to her. And before Dr. Seuss, and other age appropriate literature. I remember Aesop Fables and Uncle Remus and Alice in Wonderland most specifically. Other kids were reciting nursery rhymes and I was doing renditions of The Walrus and the Carpenter. That behavior was seen as quite odd in the first grade and resulted in the first parent/teacher conference. And my Aunt Amy cautioning me at a family gathering, "You must watch it or people will think you quite mad." She would know because at times she fell under the same assumption. I have learned not to speak of why the sea is boiling hot or whether pigs have wings, but it would seem that I am living among people that do. And without fear of the consequences. Mind you I expect some conspiracy th

Before you ask the above picture has nothing to do with this blog but no way was I leading off with a picture of Romney. And the topic has nothing to do with Obama. But it does occur to me in the Pirates of the Caribbean series that the pirates were good losers and the Brits weren't. My childhood was a lot about becoming a good loser or being good enough to not lose and wise enough to choose my contests. I had for a brother the absolute worst of winners. So it did not help me learning to be gracious at losing. I am not sure how many Monopoly boards Dad threw away before I learned to never play that game again. I am not sure how but I know my brother cheated. And I gave up tennis when I discovered it was never wise to go on a tennis date. Try as she might mother never convinced me of the wisdom of losing at anything to please a man. But I digress. This blog is not about my sportsmanship or even solely about Romney's lack there of. Though he is certainly a prime example. B

Grassland Conference by J. Binford-Bell As much as I might whine about taking those road trips to Raton there is something to be said about windshield time. And beyond the photo opportunities though those can be grand especially if the buffalo herd is close to the fence. But if not it can be 41 miles of flat plain with distant mesas and mountains. Empty space with endless skies. And lots of windshield time. Nemo jump drive shuffling between new loves and old time favorites on the car stereo and mind on free float. They say the memory is triggered most by scents and second by sounds. Sounds must include music. I am one of those people that can zero in on the time and place and event I first heard a song. And then there are the songs irrevocably linked to a person. So those 41 miles of open space can be filled with years of memories shuffling like the tunes on the stereo. And in that review of life sometimes there comes revealed truth. I have 40 year friendship with a wonderful

Frequent readers of my blog are much more familiar with images like the one above. I live in a very loose rural mountain area we collectively call Black Lake. I have joked about Tween and Twixt and Beyond Black Lake. Black Lake in the minds of its residents begins at El Bordo hill and runs south along hwy 434 and then 120 for some 20 or more miles not counting side roads. Many of those side roads are what we laughingly call rental car roads. Except for meadows it is almost all high mountain forest with remote "cabins" dotted at the ends of those rental car roads. There are definitely more cows and elk than people in Black Lake. There are some huge homes sitting in the midst of large lots of uncleared land. And many of them are not occupied the majority of the year. Vacation homes! This was the area where the Joker, yes that is his nick name had his two female companions drive him before the car ran out of gas due to a high speed chase into the center of Black Lake. He an

Reflections by J. Binford-Bell Sandy came on shore. All the Aspen leaves were on the ground. The weather channel revised its long range forecasts and the drought continues. Well, except for where Sandy came on shore. New York and New Jersey would like a dry and warmer trend. Meanwhile I was walking the dogs around placid ponds and taking stunning pictures of reflections and ignoring all my email in boxes because they are full of messages from what seems a million Democrats. And staying off Facebook where I am bombarded by Republicans that want to tell me yet again how stupid I am. I am rather above the fray as I voted mid October. I have been more concerned about my renters as real estate agents began calling me asking for credit information about them. There lease is not up until the 1st of March. Nobody in the highlands of New Mexico wants an empty rental property in the winter. But I have to wonder what they were thinking as they are not current on their rent and most month