Sidetracked Charley

A funny thing happened on the way to recovery from the Calf Canyon/Hermits Peak Fire: I lost my way. I have been through Post Traumatic Stress Disorder before. And I just figured I was there again. I knew my way out. Keep putting one foot in front of another. Replant all the seeds which were abandoned without water when I was yanked from my roots and put in an alien environment. Check on your neighbors like the Red Tailed Hawk, and Kellie across the street, and Leslie back from Guam. Plant a garden way late and paint. Survive. But like head injuries, each subsequent episode of PTSD gets harder. Not easier. Denial stronger. I became obsessed with my garden. Things which are green and growing and close to the ground so I could keep my head down and not scan the horizon for any cloud which looked too much like smoke. All clouds looked too much like smoke. When my Angel Fire friends talked of fire pits and fire works I zoned out. I even began deleting those fire bugs which talked of such t...

Hoop House 2018 When I first moved to Black Lake it was a zone 3 and had only about a 90 day growing season. I wanted at least 120 days so I could grow lettuce. At that time the local market only sold Iceberg Lettuce. I do not call it lettuce. But it seems the Moreno Valley was famous for it at one time. Some old timers even claim it developed, raised, and popularized it. And so began my experiment on how to stretch my growing season. The use of pvc for hoops to support 6 mil plastic over raised beds promised to give me ten days on either side of summer. In its last season 2021 I planted in the beginning of May and continued to harvest through September.  Essentially I had lengthened my gardening season to 150 days. But not without trauma. As in late heavy spring snows which required going out and pushing the snow off the plastic every hour all night long. When the snows begin the plastic came off This year we had the snow squall in December. It overturned the garden shed. And then...

So many improvements and memories. So many losses. This the deck I built and standing on it is Magique who I lost. The lost pets are many. Google and Facebook remind me constantly. Some memories are good. Some so sad. I was just beginning this gardening year when the fire began on Kermit Peak. It was to be my second vrbo year and but beginning slowly. I was happy to have ample time to work on the gardens when Mora was evacuated. I invited homeless friends to stay in the empty rental. A frolic. Soon they would be able to go back home. Two weeks later I was ordered to evacuate. Kate had asked how long before she could go home and I didn't know. I did not know how long before I got to go home. I had a place to go. To stay with a friend in a near by town. It would be a lark. Soon I would be back here in my home of 30 years of memories. Today it hit me it would be more than a weekend when I had to fill out a temporary change of address. Suddenly I was discussing all the truly difficult ...

Black Lake, NM   This view welcomed me home in my traveling days with art fairs. This was my view as I emerged from Guadalupita canyon, home of Coyote Creek, and I am sorry to say I do not know this mile marker. I always know mile markers. I was the navigator when my family traveled. I had a notebook and kept important notes. Maybe not always for my family but important for me. Other kids had to memorize their address and telephone number incase they got lost but in the beginning for me, living in the Missouri countryside or the a New Mexico air base it was the turns I would have to make to get home or my father's name, rank and serial number. I discovered when accidently abandoned outside of Liberal, Kansas during a trip at Christmas the license plate number was important. The highway patrol officer was impressed. Also important for me when we traveled about the country was how long. How long would we be at this base, this camp, this trip, this school. When I moved to Black Lake I...

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 ...

Bluebird of Happiness To my city bound friends my new acquisition makes little sense. But if you live on the edge of a national forest in extreme drought you should consider it a survival tool: BUG OUT NECESSITY. Real estate season is beginning next month and so is fire season. While the flatlanders and out-migrators are looking for their castle in the trees abutting the seemingly lush forest us long term locals are reordering our Must-Go and emergency boxes in case there is a fire. Before moving to the wet side of the mountain I lived a half mile from the front line of the Hondo Fire for 22 days. I had watched the black and red billowing smoke signal its setting of the ground speed record of nine miles in a half hour. That was May. I bought my house in the large meadow with only one tree in November of that year. I thought I was safe. Across the street and one of the rare snows this year The hills around me are forested, however. I joke I would rather see the trees th...