Sidetracked Charley

Life Finds a Way   My sister, the nurse who has worked this pandemic, says no. But this Thursday there was a glimmer of hope. The CDC said those of us who had received both vaccines and made it past the two week max antibody development marker could go without masks. Outdoors or indoors in less than max capacity situations but maybe not maintaining social distancing go barefaced into this brave new world. For me the news hit just as I was getting dressed to meet with other artists to decide if we could actually have an art season. I paused in my search for a mask (one of hundreds I made during this last year) to match my outfit. I did not abandon it but put it in my jacket pocket just in case. You never know. But I had decided to attend this event because I knew everyone who would likely be attending. They were all vaccinated. I had been keeping track on posts in social media. Our numbers are always small so it would not be packed. They would all be respectful of others. And if I a...

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...