Sidetracked Charley

I worked for over two decades in the construction industry. My first job was as a Submittals Engineer for one of the big five. I was hired because of my bartending skills. Bartenders are not just mixologists but stand up comediennes and trained diplomats.  Three of my regular happy hour clients around the circular bar were executives for that construction company and they had a problem. Their CEO was a serious abuser of women, and the federal government, for whom they worked, wanted more women beyond the secretary level. They figured I had the skills to be one of the boys. Those skills did not come from a college course though I had my degree in an age where women were seen as going for their Mrs. degree instead of a MBA. I had worked in a Senatorial office in DC, and as an administrative assistant for a lobby group. I spent time as a manager of a retail outlet, and in the entertainment industry. I was tending bar because it was the only place I could make as much money as a ma

Maybe two months ago I decided to make my own Greek style yogurt. And at the same time I ordered the starter for yogurt I ordered starter to make sourdough bread. I used to make my own sourdough in the 70's. Never have made my own yogurt but had purchased my Instant Pot because it bragged it could make it easy. Greek yogurt is simple but perhaps not that easy, if easy is defined as within 30 minutes. It takes 24 hours. Sourdough is very difficult especially at my attitude. Today as I took more Greek yogurt out of the strainers and put in containers for refrigeration I decided to not attempt the sourdough any further and washed the attempt down the drain. It seems, per a quick research on whey, a byproduct of making Greek Yogurt, that I can make bread which tastes just like sourdough by using the whey as a substitute for liquids in a bread recipe.  I have doubled my yogurt production from a half gallon at a time to a gallon. And my sister has joined in with recipes for frozen

I believe I stalled out last week. No, I didn't go upstairs, turn the electric blanket to nine and assume the prenatal position, but maybe I should have. Oh, I got things done. Or tried to get things done. I spent the week battling with an often very dependable person to get two cords of firewood delivered. And ultimately negotiating with another person for the needed winter supply. But in truth there is still no firewood in the woodshed. I am down to a few days of this winter necessity. I made yogurt, walked the dog, kept petsit appointments, paid bills. And on Monday last I dropped the pickup at the mechanic's for him to fix the brakes. I kept on keeping on after that Saturday before when the brakes failed. But I was in a fog. And in truth have missed a few things. I didn't flip the desk calendar over to the next week. Most mechanical issues with a vehicle result in it not continuing to move further than pulling it over out of the lane of traffic if you are lucky

Don't separate your life from political resistance. Nadia of Pussy Rant Note: The Russian punk rock group Pussy Rant spent two years in a Russian prison for their resistance to Putin and his government. They are still resisting. From the mouth of babes.  Donald Trump was elected president and I joined the resistance again. I had experience with resistance to Richard Nixon. And to save the mini skirt. Sounds funny now in the same paragraph, but saving the mini skirt was serious. For decades men had told women how to dress. Hems up and down, no white after Labor Day or before Easter. No slacks at school or work. Our protests against Nixon, Watergate, and Kent State were more serious. The peace marches against the illegal Vietnam war and the draft were deadly serious. And behind the marches to save the mini skirt were the fights for the Equal Rights Amendment. It was a very serious time even if Time Magazine made fun of the marchers in mini skirts. And I sometim

Fall gets really busy here in the high country. Things to do before winter closes in. And just enjoying fall. Trying to capture all the fall colors, enjoying the last of the flowers, and the snatches of deck time when the winds are mild and the sun is out. Then there are the boards you belong to planning sessions, trying to find places for holiday parties. To that you add annual appointments, having the vehicles serviced, mounting the snow tires, at at long last going to the dentist for annual check up (oops, two years had passed), new doctor wants to see me more often, art group added a holiday fair back into the schedule. And before you know it the only deck time is crossing it on the way to the truck. Life gets away from you at times. You move along and adapt without knowing it. I remember my first fall in Washington, DC. I had looked forward to the eastern colors for months of hot summer days. But I worked for a US Senator involved in an election campaign, Nixon was buggi

Sunflower I bought a large free-standing umbrella for deck sitting and the days got cold and the winds whipped up. I have not set under the shade of my new red umbrella even once. The deck goes unused. And the flowers I used to gaze upon and photograph have undergone a killing frost. I think I am in mourning for the end of summer but I have been too busy to stop and think about it. My decade long physician retired, and the new doctor does not seem to be able to read my files. It might have been easier for me to have deliberately changed my medical provider, but I was too busy with my dentist to consider that. Genetics have finally caught up with me in the mouth department, which in my humble opinion, takes a toll on my one health issue. Dr. Cohen would have understood that. The new one doesn't except in that he can hold me hostage to more appointments. More visits to doctor and more trips to Questa to see my dentist translates into less deck time. Less lap time for Thicke,

The news is all about the sexual abuse culture of our leaders and "heroes." We sloughed last year reports of the man who would become president grabbing pussy because women let him because he was a star. Or because he had the power to fire them. That is part of the abuse: the power. The power to ruin the life of the abused. I first ran into it while working as a store manager for So Fro fabrics. I was shocked. I quit. Toyed with bringing charges and was discouraged from doing so. Next job I applied for asked why I had quit the previous job. I lied. Something innocent like I wanted a change. I had been told the truth would blacklist me from all future jobs. And in those days companies called about references.  I ultimately landed a great job working for an international construction firm. Their CEO had a reputation which would make Trump, Cosby, and Weinstein look like pussies. My immediate supervisor had somehow gotten the information that I had quit to avoid filing a

My sister photographing   My sister and I share a passion for photography. I have missed her and our treks with cameras since she moved back to Texas. So naturally when she came to visit we planned a trip to Kash-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument which we both had not visited. I have posted two blogs on Creative Journey of black and white images of this amazing geology. But I realized today I had not posted beyond Facebook any of the color photographs. Or those with my sister in them. The Trees reaching for the sun The slot to the right through which we must pass Debbie showing scale in the slots For me it was all about the slots. But my more adventurous younger sister wanted to prove we could make it to the top. The trail rises about 1100 feet in the 1.6 miles from base to ridge and it is by no means an easy stroll. There are the many slots to be climbed through. One of the wider slots to go through I am claustrophobic and short. Some of the rocks d

Keep on keeping on.  My last post was 20 days ago. A lot has happened in those days but there has been no time to stop and reflect upon it. I have been in to do list mode preparing for a a social event hosted at my studio, a visit from my sister, the first Angel Fire Studio Tour , and the approaching winter. To that impressive list I had to add a trip to the dentist too long put off, and a nuisance lawsuit brought by an annoying gnat in my life. And, of course, you can never drop everything on your schedule to focus totally on the to do list. Life keeps on and continues to produce messes you must attend to. And consciously or unconsciously we add to the list which should be getting smaller but seems to grow exponentially. In part because items on the list never stand alone. My visit from my sister produced fruit which made the list grow: More photographs to upload and post process, beads and findings to make more jewelry for the studio tour (five new necklace and earring sets)

Fall approaches. I am not one to go by dates on a calendar. I think it is time for a major readjustment of the Georgian. Living on the land I find I pay attention more to the winds or lack there of or their direction or something as subtle as how they smell. Generally there is a day in mid August when a subtle shift comes and whispers of a change of season. I really have not felt it yet. Others are talking about winter around the corner. Frankly, the far corner. But we are a ski resort historically and everyone starts predicting the winter to end all winters months ahead of time. They want their condos and vacation homes booked for the increasingly shorter ski season. When I began skiing in the late 1960's the ski areas generally opened the weekend before Thanksgiving, and ski instructors and patrol had been on the slopes practicing the week before that. And ski slopes did it without making any snow. And when they closed after Easter it was with snow left on the slopes. And

With a touch of Zen Buddhist and a bit of Druid. What is is unless you can work some magic. But don't count on that. I was raised in Baptist territory in the era when "In God We trust" and "Under God" were added to our money and our pledge of allegiance. I believed it was unconstitutional.  In college I took as many philosophy courses as a major in fine arts would allow. One of my best friends after college was an ex-Jesuit priest. Though I used to argue with him that there was no such thing as an ex-Jesuit. We are a sum of our life influences. We are the path we have followed. I was the oldest child. I was the analyst. I think I got that from my pilot father who taught me to drive. When all seems to be going to hell in a hand basket I get really quiet. And if I say anything at all it is a very quiet, "Oops." It is likely to be the last word out of my mouth when the end comes. Acceptance is the answer to all my problems today , from page 417

I was in my senior year of high school when Russia parked missiles in Cuba. The Cuban Missile Crisis also known as the Crisis de Octobre  or just the Missile Scare was 13 days in October of 1962, the 16th through the 28th. Thirteen months later the President who stared down the Russians would be dead in Dallas. Shot by a man connected with Russia. My first conspiracy theory was that Russia was responsible because of those missiles President Kennedy made them take out of Cuba. The building of a personal bomb shelter was a big conversation topic on Bellamah Street in Albuquerque in 1962 and 1963. The city nobody could spell was on the top ten hit list for missiles from Russia. We had two Air Force Bases and a mountain in the Manzano mountains to the immediate east which was hallowed out to stockpile our nuclear arsenal. And air raid sirens were tested every day. Duck and Cover made a return into my life. I was in the second grade in Roswell, NM going to a Walker Air Force base sc

Crown of Thorns Before I am a lover of Euphorbias . They are from the deserts of Southern Africa and Madagascar. They have evolved physical characteristics and forms similar to cacti of North and South America and are often incorrectly referred to as cacti. My big Crown of Thorns was one of my first of a growing collection of these succulents from the spurge family of Euphorbiaceae. I picked it up as a 6 inch plant in a New Iberia nursery when my sister and I were touring the northern gulf coast. I believe that was 15 years ago. I made an attempt at limiting its height a few years back to allow it to devote more energy to the new branches and make it a denser plant. That failed. And the height of the plant continued to challenge the window space and soon the long branches were leaning over and leaning against the window. I googled and found the proper way to prune this treasured plant. Still it was very difficult to cut off the four longer branches. Even with a plan. The f

California Poppies Summer seems so short. So frantic. Not at all like the old song, Summer Time. The living isn't easy in a tourist town. Or if you garden. There is this brief window of opportunity and all are competing for your time and energy. I feel as if I am cheating if I just sit down for a cup of coffee on my deck. Yesterday I was able to do that if I took my sketch pad. I am working on a new concept for two paintings. The year is 7/12th over and I have only finished two paintings. When I was an active art fair participant I had to be painting almost constantly during the first third of the year to have enough inventory to carry me through the summer and fall seasons. And yet I still tried to garden. Note: only possible with programmable drip irrigation system. So shouldn't the living be easy? But it is raining and the grass is growing. Maybe I need a goat or two. I manically tried to keep up with mower and weed eater. While at the same time pushing to paint mor

I used to paint small watercolors on paper. College training. And then the art suppliers came out with watercolor canvas. And I could paint larger. But my studio furniture was all designed for small works. Most watercolors are painted on the flat because water drips. I expanded to folding tables which seemed to never get folded up and were sometimes still too small. And as I got bigger I expanded into more mixed media like oil sticks. While my flat work was poured and so took less time. I am creative. I jerry-rigged an easel using my flat shelves and clamps. I finally gave up and bought an adjustable easel. It will lay flat but also stand up. It frees up a lot of work space in my studio. Work space which seems to be constantly over run with other projects like painted chairs. And dogs I take in for vacations while owners are away. Every once in a while it occurs to me I was going to make this studio at one time half the size it is currently and only had a 3 x 4 foot stoop

I think this is it. I believe it is the last time 50 states will celebrate Independence day together. It is clear we are no longer independent. And we are no longer together. The divisions have been widening for some time now. It began in very quiet ways. The mountain west does not feel represented by the eastern establishment. And now that DT has declared war on our western lands more openly the chasm is growing. They believe they can sell off our public lands to foreign mining interests (including Russia) and then allow them to ruin the water. Since we won't let them steal the water they will poison it. There is a phrase about being related to people you would not cross the street to meet. As citizens we are united to people we really don't want to know. We don't hold the same values, watch the same television shows, go to the same movies or sports events, even eat the same foods. A  friend from another country asked what is American food? I found a list forming

Storm Coming by J. Binford-Bell In my family I was the crazy one. I know because my brother told me so. A lot. In fact, I stopped talking to my brother decades ago because of that. A psychologist told me to. No body needs someone who constantly tells them they are crazy. Words have power. There is no truth to the childish chant of Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me . Words hurt. Words sting. Words heard often enough re-shape us. Some call it brainwashing, some re-programming, some the truth. Jackie Gleason was very popular when I was young. I was taunted in during recess as being Jackie Gleason and being too fat. I graduated from high school weighing 85 pounds. I believed an art teacher who said I had no talent. A fifth grade teacher who said I was too lazy to excel. Mother convinced me to never attempt to be a writer because I could not spell. I knew I should take the first offer of marriage (if indeed I got an offer) because I was ugly or so pep

Cimarron Cemetery January 2017  Just finished watching the documentary The Polar Sea. I have been watching a lot of documentaries lately. When I am not watching the news. The news, my sister informs me, just makes me depressed. And I find that my love for who done its has waned unless they are British or Canadian. I am just so tired of the killing in US films. No, it is not the killing. I think I have become immune to that. Tharned out to the body counts whether it is real or make believe.  It is the meanness of spirit which seems to pervade fiction. And sadly reality.  It is not just the people who do not care but those who must blame others; make it someone else's fault. Abuse others for what they have done themselves. It is a waste of time to play chicken vs. egg. I find it creeping into me. And so I avoid the question by watching documentaries.  This morning I finished the series The Polar Sea which is available on Netflix streaming. The photography is awesome. But I

When I first moved back to New Mexico I lived in the small town of Questa. It was on a state highway from Taos to Colorado but if tourists stopped it was just for lunch at the Seville Restaurant or gas at one of three stations. It had no visible means of support beyond the Moly mine, some small town ranchers, and a barely under the radar drug trade. When I had lived in New Mexico before it was mostly in Albuquerque which was on Route 66, which became interstate 40. It had two bases, a major federal laboratory, and the University of New Mexico. And sure, some tourists. But they were under the radar like Questa's drug trade. In short I was totally unprepared for Angel Fire, New Mexico, especially since I had not moved to that town but a small rural backwater five miles south. I was looking to hide out in Black Lake. Silly girl. Income depended to some degree on Angel Fire. I taught skiing there. In Black Lake I made Mardi Gras masks which I shipped around the country at the A

As an introvert artist I have the tendency to live a very quiet life on the rural fringes of a small village. I like it that way. I don't even get many visitors to my open studio. Social interactions seem to be limited to talking to pet sit clients and the monthly meetings of a couple organizations I belong to. Oh, and chance meetings at the market or post office. June was looking to be so overloaded with pets to sit and art events I chose to bow out of a part time job I had managed to not quit over the winter. I thought I was making space for me. But it seems it is for more of the above. New tenant bowed out of agreement and so I was thrust into interviewing new possible tenants. And then suddenly a new pet client. And an art student. And then extra meetings with one of those groups I belong to. And new tenant wants to move in tonight. And ran into that tenant who bowed out at the post office and she wants to sue me. Other friend in line acted as a buffer. Then off to mark

This morning I sat on my deck and drunk a cup of coffee while updating my garden journal. Hard to express what a joy this is. I have not had a deck for decades. Last one was in North Carolina. And I think it was no sooner finished than I was transferred.  When I built my studio in Black Lake there was to be a deck. That was 2007. Mechanics lien by the fired contractor put all plans beyond finishing the studio on hold. I thought as the money came in from art sales I would be able to destroy the temporary stoop and make my deck. But GW and the Great recession of 2008 had other plans. Besides why spend money on something a bad contractor and a court could take away from me. The summer of 2016 I finally decided to use pallets. Lots of work but cheap. And then I was given enough lumber to make a 10 x 12 food deck. I used the pallets for a lower deck and a boardwalk to the driveway. Then came winter. Spring is all about garden. Then it dawned on me I needed deck ch