Coast to Coast

Thursday March 6,2014 Clarion Inn Suite 201 Blythe, California 5 PM PST

Left Kingman after a breakfast at JB’s and a quick stop at Walgreens for a few toiletries. Since we weren’t going very far we took our time getting on the road. I realize we aren’t really to the West “Coast” but we are as far inland here from the Pacific as we are inland from the Atlantic at home, so I consider this coast to coast. Plus, there isn’t much farther I’d like to be in California—expensive place and crowded. You enter on a major interstate and there isn’t even a welcome center where you can get an official map! The welcome sign itself is blah! And the Internet here at the motel in Blythe is intermittent to be kind.

I will say the ride down from the Arizona border was beautiful—the rains last week have awakened the desert and the mountains are sharp and jagged and unearthly. The road—Ca 95 is a super busy mini-roller coaster.

We were for several miles on another Indian reservation. Not sure exactly  where it ended but just North of Blythe we met the Colorado once more and the presence of water changed the entire scene. Myriad palms, irrigated fields, other types of very green trees or palo verdes and we were in town. 86 degrees, men shirtless, though maybe they shouldn’t be,bright sun in an almost cloudless sky.

We were getting 32 miles to the gallon on this road, probably because the heat had caused the pressure in the tires to inflate them more. Since we gained an hour we arrived at the motel at around 2:45 but were ready to stop and get into the cool. I had made the reservation last night online while at Kingman. The Suite here, $125.90 for the night!  Used 16,000 points and got it free. That’s how we use our points. We’ve built up over 100.000 points on this trip so far.

Tomorrow we are headed to Joshua Tree National Park. We had planned on staying at Barstow tomorrow night after cutting through the park and then heading back to Arizona and Antelope Canyon. Seems the road to Page from Tuba City had a landslide last year and the detour looks like a pain. That makes Barstow kind of north of where we want to be then. I was looking at Chiricahua National Monument but that is really a good deal south. Should have researched last night and come into Joshua from 29 Palms instead of leaving that way.  The problem is tomorrow night’s stay—don’t want to come all the way back to Blythe after a day in the desert nor go back to Kingman. Oh, piffle.

Anyway, we decided to do Joshua Tree instead of Death Valley. Don’t know where we’ll stay or where we are headed next but it will be out of California for sure! Will let you know tomorrow night where we are. For now, just terribly excited to see the desert floor –hope there are as many flowers as we saw today. No matter what, it is another new stamp in my National Parks passport. That in itself is exciting. Until then, hugs to all KandB

Another Section of Rte 66

Wednesday March 5,2014 Quality Inn Room 243 Kingman, Arizona 7PM MST

Headed out to Flagstaff and the San Francisco Peaks on Interstate 40. Westward, Ho! Once we passed Williams we were in territory new to us. The traffic diminished significantly at Flagstaff where most of it headed north or south. Kind of surprising considering how close we are to L A and the number of California cars.

It is amazing how the geography changes the farther west one goes in Arizona. We stayed on I 40 until Seligman where we followed Rte 66 into Kingman. It was all down hill from the Arizona divide where we were over 7000 feet in elevation. The only real indication of that was that the San Francisco Peaks seemed relatively low though they top 10,000 feet! We were on the Mogollon Rim which extends from New Mexico well into Arizona. The descent was gradual with drops into wide valleys and then passes through hills and mesas with more drops into ever widening valleys.

The old 66 towns are interesting with the old motels and shops. Interspersed between them were such tourist sites as the Grand Canyon Caverns with an elevator that takes you 21 feet beneath the ground ( we’ve been to Mammoth Caves and Carlsbad so passed them by ) and a Wildlife Park , which we also by-passed since we’ve been to plenty of zoos. In the old days, of slower cars and less maintained roads, sometimes still dirt, they were probably quite inviting and may be still in summer.

Along the way the odometer for this trip passed the 5000 mile marker! And we aren’t to the West Coast yet!  Also along the way we entered the Hualapai Indian Reservation. These are the folks with the Sky Walk over the Grand Canyon and also it is on this reservation that the only road into the Canyon exists. Dirt, of course and requires an Indian guide to use it. Interestingly, the Hualapai call the roads on the reservation Indian routes. The Navajo don’t do that, that we can recall.

Loved the Burma Shave signs along the road near Seligman—think they are recent additions or are very well maintained originals. At the Peach Springs end they are less bright red and totally incomplete. We couldn’t help but notice how green things are getting here, except the palms, though upon closer examination it can be seen that new Spring fronds are starting.

While Bill went into the bank for nickels I admired a bright green Chevy across the street but when I looked at the picture at the room I noticed it is two doors—no way, the next one will have four doors.

Continuing down Andy Devine Avenue we secured our room and then went to the Dam Bar for some Prime Rib and veggies for dinner. Delicious. Back at the room, Bill sat on the patio and perused the map while I sat at the open window, chatting with him and uploading and editing, to some extent, the pictures and writing the blog.

Now, he is watching basketball but I think we will watch an episode or two of House of  Cards and then to bed. Tomorrow, Nevada heading to Death Valley, I think. We need to ascertain where one stays if one isn’t camping in the Valley. It will work out, I’m sure. Until the next report which I hope will include beautiful flowers in bloom in the desert, we bid you a good good night. KandB

A Bit of Winslow History

Tuesday March 4, 2014 Quality Inn Suite 202 Winslow, Arizona 4 PM CST

Lazy, cloudy day. Slept until 9 am, did the laundry and that wandered down into the historic distract which isn’t very extensive and which we explored somewhat last year. The Indian and WHS Bulldog are repeats in the photo library. Went to the Old Times museum which is quite small and isn’t very extensive. The two ladies in charge, one Native,one white were discussing Pineapple Upside Down cake. I told them I hadn’t had it in years but just made it with my Mom’s recipe in the cast iron frying pan and it was delicious.  As I was looking around I heard Bill chatting with them and they were sharing cole slaw dressing recipes with him!  LOL

There are some Hopi pots and beadwork. A lot of info on the airport to which such famous people as Lindbergh, on his honeymoon and headed for California, Amelia Earhart,who, I think, flew into any available airport in the world and Wiley Post and Will Rogers aviated. And, of course, the Santa Fe Railroad and the Harvey Houses that were located at the depot. They weren’t there at the same time, not sure what happened to the original, but La Posada was built in 1929 on the site of the original round house, which was replaced by a larger one outside the West side of town.

I have read The Harvey Girls and don’t recall any mention of a renegade rustling waitress. It was interesting to see the beautiful California Poppy dishes used on the Train, as well as the wildlife inspired table service designed by Elizabeth Colter for La Posada—her favorite of the Harvey Houses that she designed for the Santa Fe. The red glass tableware was used only in private rooms in the hotel.

When the railroad cut back on its hotels due to lack of passenger traffic on the trains, La Posada was closed in the ‘50’s and left to decay. It was to be demolished but townsfolk grouped together to try to save it and it was purchased by an outfit that gutted it and converted it to office space. It was vacated again in time and a couple came along to buy it in the 1990’s and since then they have been renovating it and attempting to return it to its original grandeur.

Before leaving the museum we got talking about sewing our own clothes and those of our children and how our mothers had done the same for us. We also talked about the roundhouse and the closing of them, including the one in WRJ when the steam engines were replaced by diesel. The ladies talked about the oil canal where the old oil was thrown out. We laughed about it turning into a tar pit like Le Brea in California. That led to discussion of traffic and California which led one lady to mention a freeway accident in front of the Getty. It amazes me the topics we cover with the people with whom we chat. Eventually, having ascertained that we were dressed well enough to eat at La Posada—and after bemoaning the lack of appropriate dress anywhere in the US these days-lol—we were off.

 

We ate in the Turquoise Room which is La Posada’s dining room that faces the platform and passing trains. Unfortunately, they are freights and not passenger trains. How I wish we ,as a country ,would return to train travel—it is so wonderful. Bill had a lamb and linguine dish with a pilsner and I had the carnittas with a glass of Pinot Noir. Everything was beautifully presented and was delicious.

As we drove through the pretty decrepit small town it was hard not to realize that it was once booming with a population employed by the Santa Fe, had a very busy airport with three airlines utilizing it, was an important  town on the Mother Road and had a bustling influx of train travelers who stayed and ate at La Posada. Now, all of that is gone and the streets are quiet even at lunchtime on a weekday. People probably work in Flagstaff with a few still employed at La Posada and the freight yard. I guess the hotel does a good business—I overheard a call of a traveler due to arrive in Winslow wanting a king bed room for the night. Only two left and the man connected them to the restaurant for dinner reservations tonight.

Terrific to see green and flowering trees and shrubs along the streets. The gardens are beginning to come into it at the Hotel. Spring is really coming to Arizona. In honor of today’s Mardi Gras celebrations back in Louisiana I wore my Fleur de Lis earrings in Mardi Gras blue, green and purple that I bought back in New Iberia weeks ago.

I close today’s photo album with a traditional Hopi Prayer of Elders to the Great Spirit. Don’t need to be Hopi to agree with its words.Bill went down to the bar to have a beer and cigarette and talk with the timber guys. They were awaiting tires for one of their cranes and were leaving today. The tires came, but without inner tubes so, not being available in Holbrook, the company had to go to Flagstaff. Won’t have them until tomorrow. I, in the meantime, am going to have a chocolate silk and read Billy the Kid until NCIS. Tomorrow ? Kingman? of somewhere between there and Flagstaff? But definitely somewhere west of here. Goodnight KandB

Perry Null and Homolovi Ruins

Monday March 3, 2014 Quality Inn Suite 202 Winslow, Arizona 8PM MST

First thing this morning, after breakfast, we drove through downtown Gallup to another of my favorite shops—Perry Null Trading Company. I make an annual visit here for Native American jewelry, though I’ve purchased some beautiful pottery here, too. The first person we saw was Mel, a wonderful Native man who we always chat with about the trip and where we’ve been, where we’re going and where he suggests we go. Told him we still haven’t made it into Chaco and he said the road is awful. He was there with family one year for some ceremonials and they lost power and in driving out from the Canyon he blew a tire and wrecked an axle on the road. He said it is the middle of nowhere and there is no one out there to help you. Told him I was going to browse and he said great, just let him know if there was anything I wanted to see. An Anglo fellow, whose name turned out to be John, was doing some stocking or other stuff and I had wandered off from Mel who continued to chat with Bill about the trip and Bill’s favorite State and also what it is like being so close to Quebec at home. In the meantime, John and I got chatting and I told him that we usually stopped by once a year and were helped by Mel, Karen and Barry.

Karen, you may remember, is originally from Louisiana and she is back home for Mardi Gras, which I do believe is actually tomorrow. I’ll have to get out my Mardi Gras earrings for the occasion. We have been listening to New Orleans Jazz on XM67 for the past two days as we roll along. Reminds me of being in the Big Easy for JazzFest—a terrific time. Barry, in the meantime, has left Perry Null. He has been a chiropractor part –time and had gone to Mississippi to go into business with a friend. John said it apparently didn’t work out and he’s heard Barry is back in Gallup and is going to start a practice in town. He had been with Perry for 10 years.

I asked John to show me a terrific ring—an elongated coral oval set in silver that swiveled and is a lapis on the other side. Unfortunately, it was a 61/2 and though it fit on my pinky it was truly too long. A shorter one was a green stone on the underside and I didn’t care for it as well. So, with that I began my shopping in earnest. To begin I looked for a coral ring.

I should back up a bit here for those who are on this trip for the first time. Over the course of two years I acquired a full parture of turquoise—a squash blossom necklace with stud earring to match in needlepoint. I then purchased an unusual zigzag turquoise bracelet also in needlepoint and a small pinky ring to match. Last year I began my coral collection with another zigzag bracelet by the same artist. I wear these bracelets solo and sometimes together. I also purchased coral earrings and another pair that contain both coral and turquoise. The mission this year, then, was to complete the coral set.

To reiterate, I looked for a coral ring and found two florals that I liked. I also wanted a necklace that was somewhat simpler than the squash blossom which I sometimes find too bulky for what I’m wearing. The first necklace I chose matched the coral/turquoise earrings but was $600. That would have taken all of the money I’d allotted for this year’s purchases. While it is quite beautiful and I may, in another year, buy it, I found another which came with a pair of stud coral earrings and just loved it. When I took it off tonight, I was delighted to see that it is by the same craftsman who made my earrings from last year.

Lest one thinks I only buy for myself, I made some Christmas purchases too. Next year I start my lapis collection. Saw a bracelet I just loved but must save something to look forward to then. Having gotten everything wrapped up and after saying hi to Perry himself and several other of the sales force, we headed west to Arizona.

In looking at the map, we realized that we’d be in Holbrook by 11:30. There is absolutely nothing in Holbrook except the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest. Not that they are nothing—they are magnificent but we spent almost a whole day exploring them last year. Unlike Canyon de Chelley and Yellowstone they don’t call to us to return. So we decided to continue on to Winslow if not Flagstaff. I noticed that a State Park with ruins lay just about a mile north of the Interstate just outside Winslow and suggested to Bill that we explore it.

Oh, my Goodness! Stopped at the visitors’ center and paid the $7 fee—ONLY $7 ! And then we drove out across plains beginning to green up as a result of yesterday’s rain. The ruins were high up on a knoll and after climbing half-way up I gave the camera to Bill and sat on a bench, saying I couldn’t climb all the way.  He felt badly for my disappointment but I was content on the bench. The sun was to my back so I decided to climb farther so I’d be facing the sun. We were the only ones there. The breeze rustled in the grasses, a bee buzzed me just to check me out, another bug landed on my arm but left when I moved it, a jet would fly over high in the almost cloudless sky and once in awhile a bird would chirp. I lifted my face to the sun and absorbed it all—there is always the suggestion of spirituality in these places. There are ancients buried here, their graves unmarked. A community lived here, with these incredibly unending vistas before them. The sacred San Francisco Peaks rise far in the distance, a second corner of the ancient homeland joining Mt Taylor back in Grants to mark its boundaries. There once was noise here—voices of adults and children and dogs and wild animals and the activities of weaving and pottery making and farming the three sisters. Now it is all silence and peace. I could have stayed all day with the ghosts just sunning and thinking of sub zero snowy Vermont and smiling.

After about 20 minutes I decided to venture farther up the knoll and in the end I joined Bill at the top, at the kiva and looked out at the sacred mesas to the North and the Little Colorado at our feet. Other visitors have gathered shards and placed them in nice arrangements on some of the flat rocks—we were asked not to remove anything and we assured the ranger that we had no desire to remove something –we would have no use for them and they belong where they were made and used. Just to make sure we kept our word we were observed by two little lizards to whom we spoke gently. As we ambled back down the hill we began to notice the tracks of animals: rabbits, mostly. There was some scat of horse and wild dog. And the frenzied tracks of canine that were too obviously a running, playing domestic dog.

As we drove toward the park exit we began to see where the water had gathered on the flat below the knoll. Lots of prints and the plants obviously greening up immediately since they don’t get rain that often. Off by the visitors’ center we saw the herd of wild horses grazing on the nice fresh salad bar. Turning the corner there was a huge jackrabbit on the side of the road. He took off into the brush but we backed up and I got two nice shots before driving off and relieving his stress. Continued to the second sight near the river but the rooms are outlined but not excavated. Not uncommon—those that have been excavated are now subject to deterioration by the elements. Often they are excavated, notes taken and artifacts noted and some taken for exhibit, and then they are filled back in to preserve them.

After about two hours at the site, we continued into Winslow and our suite at the Quality Inn. Took some pictures of the new purchases and then joined Bill in the grill downstairs for a light dinner. Met a man from Ky who now builds timber frame houses in Taos for a pretty penny and another who lives in Los Lunas and is an engineer for the railroad—Burlington Northern Santa Fe—one of Warren Buffett’s outfits.

We’re staying to do laundry and explore Winslow tomorrow before continuing west on Wednesday. One of the last of the Harvey Inns is here and there is an interesting museum as well as one of the Wolf’s Indian Heads. So, will tell you all about it tomorrow.

Did you catch the Oscars?  What did you think? Oh,oh, The Blacklist. Later, KandB

Gallopin’ to Gallup

Sunday March 2, 2014 Comfort Inn Room 105 Gallup, New Mexico 5:20PM MST

Did not sleep well last night—went to bed at normal time –11:20pm—and then awake at 12:15 pretty much for the rest of the night. Needless to say I was exhausted this morning and just wanted to start heading West once more. Bill was ready to leave Santa Fe and the remaining sights for another year. So, off we headed to Gallup on a gray and rainy morning.

The drive from Santa Fe to Albuquerque is on I 25 which parallels the Rio Grande River. It is so evident that this is a river valley—the populated area runs parallel to it on both sides of the river. The cottonwoods are in full Spring bloom and the cultivated fields are greening up. Despite the snow in the mountains and mesas last night and the cooler temperatures, Spring is springing in New Mexico.

The other night there was a news item about the light posts at the intersection of I25 and route 550. People complained that they are too close if not in the shoulder of the roads and were a safety hazard DOT said that since the posts are break-away if struck by a vehicle they were not a hazard. The opposing argument said they then become missiles causing yet another hazard. The upshot—$6 million Federal dollars to tear them out and move them! Ah, engineers.

When we took I 40 West toward Gallup the sky, terrain and population density all changed. No more river, no more water. The sky and clouds and beautiful desert colors made paintings of our surroundings. Mount Taylor, one of the Dine four corners was, as usual snow capped. It provided a dramatic back drop for the scene practically all the way from Albuquerque to Grants.

In between we passed through several small pueblos ( villages ) including Lacuna with its lovely white church on the hill overlooking the pueblo. Around Acoma Pueblo there has been some road improvements including a couple of overpasses. The most distressing thing is a series of complicated traffic circles that need to be navigated to either reach the new, extensive rest area and picnic area or Sky City 15 miles off the Interstate. Big bucks to create a mess.

West of Acoma the sky became really strangely cloud congested and funny colored. When we drove into the heart of the cloud cover the rain fell in torrents for awhile and the temperature dropped 20 degrees. The mesas have snow on them, which we’ve never seen before. It fell last night. we challenged a BSNF locomotive on an upgrade but we beat him easily. Do you see the elephant and the buffalo in the clouds?

Finally we reached Gallup and went to check in at the Comfort Inn but were an hour early. So we went next door to Applebees to have our big meal of the day, only to find police and fire engines in the lot.I watched one of the waitresses but a note on the front door but Bill said let’s check it out. Of course, it was temporarily closed. As we walked over I saw her let a party of three leave and then lock the door. I said they had a grease fire, let’s go somewhere else. So we looked for a half hour for something else and there was nothing that looked appealing. Went back to see if things had gotten cleaned up but the waitress told me they needed to air the place out and clean up the stove AFTER THE GREASE FIRE ( Bill said I didn’t know what I was talking about originally, since I hadn’t spoken to anyone—right, a restaurant, fire engines –what else could it have been?) So we settled for Pizza Hut.

When we got back and settled in the room, Bill turned on Cavuto and thought it was great fun to take pix of me glancing up at the TV as I typed.

Tomorrow the plan is Perry Null for my Native Indian jewelry fix and then on to Holbrook and maybe the WigWam Motel if the rooms don’t look too claustrophobic for me. Since there has been some rain and snow activity we aren’t taking a chance on 21 miles of unimproved dirt roads to get into Chaco. I don’t know that we’ll ever make it there—we aren’t likely to buy a 4-wheel drive vehicle any time soon. Don’t think I want to go to Canyon de Chelley since it is so cold and we ride on the top of the all terrain vehicle to tour it. But one never knows. At any rate, going to curl up with Billy the Kid and wait for the Oscars to begin.

BTW, one of the talk shows said that someone should pull a Francis Underwood on Obama—LOL Wonder how many got the inference?  I for one, don’t mind Francis—he’s ruthless, underhanded and manipulative but so are the people he messes with—in general. They certainly have no emotional attachment to him or him to them, except, of course, Zoe. Francis is Francis. The one I really detest is his wife—she destroys people who actually loved her and in some cases deeply. It is so much more callous and devastating. She even urges Francis to make people suffer. Bitch!

Well, reading and early sleep call. So enjoy the Oscars or whatever. Until tomorrow. KandB

Governor’s Palace and Plaza in Santa Fe

Saturday March 1, 2014 Quality Inn Suite 108 Santa Fe, New Mexico 5 PM MST

The day started out overcast and gray—but this is good news for New Mexico—the drought has been terrible for at least three years now. Everyone we spoke to yesterday and today mentioned the weather with great happiness. We certainly are happy for them and because we’ve had such wonderful weather, if chilly, on this trip we did not begrudge them their joy. As a matter of fact, it was rather nice to walk in the rain, though I think the Native Americans on the patio of the Palace thought that smiling gringo woman in the Plaza was muy loco!

Last night, Bill mentioned that there were prints of O’Keeffe’s works-some of them at least- at her museum for only $10.  He had taken a particular delight in her Horse’s Skull with White Rose (1931). I’m always impressed when he singles out one work of art as one he particularly likes. He enjoys art museums, as a matter of fact, he took me to the Clarke in Williamstown, Ma as a special present one year. I’d not heard of it but a fellow teacher told him about it and that it has a large selection of Impressionists, whom he knows I love. When we go to museums, though, he likes a lot of the offerings but doesn’t usually have a favorite.  I urged him to make the OK our first stop this morning. There isn’t a parking lot for the museum and we paid $5 for two hours to explore it yesterday but I convinced him to part in the Courthouse lot, posted with several large signs threatening citation and towing for unofficial cars. Ah, I stayed in the car, no one even looked out a window or came near the lot—we took the last spot—and he ran in and got himself a print. I’ve included a picture of the post card of it as well as several other cards I purchased yesterday: Ram’s Head, Blue Morning Glory (1938), Winter Cottonwoods East V (1954) and Untitled ( Vase of Flowers ) (1903-1905).

We then moved down a couple of streets, as the rain began, and parked behind the bank for $5 for the day. I took a picture of the clock to record our time starting out and, though I sheltered in the arcade opposite the clock when we departed, I forgot to record that time, which was 2pm.

We looked at the big banner announcing an exhibit of Spanish works from the Renaissance through Goya at the New Mexico Museum of Art. While it appealed we decided to explore the Governor’s Palace and the New Mexico History Museum’s exhibit on the cowboy called Cowboys: Real and Imagined.

The Palace takes up one whole side of the Plaza, which was at the earliest history of Santa Fe (Holy or Sacred Faith ) the center of a walled fortress. The building is the oldest building in the US to have been in continuous governmental use. It has gone under numerous renovations and excavations, which I will allow you to read about with the labels I included interspersed with the photos.

It is interesting to note that the Martinez name and the Lamy names continue in Santa Fe. The stage coach can carry nine passengers—SIX within the carriage!!!!! Talk about lack of knee or elbow room! I absolutely love the 132 year old Broadside—Grand Neck-Tie Party, indeed.

The exhibit of Retablos and Bultos was very extensive. I loved seeing Santa Barbara—I seem to remember my sister Barbara wearing her hair in that super-upswept crown, though there were no feathered adornments. Michael the Archangel with bows at his knees and contemporary male attire with scales in one hand and dagger in the other is not the image with which I grew up. But, I like it! The retablo is more the way I saw him depicted. There were several retablos of the Trinity or Trinidad—no Holy Ghost dove in these.

I was particularly taken with the many manifestations of Nuestra Senora de la Dolores—Our Lady of Sorrows. Nuestra Senora de la Soledad was one I could not interpret. Asked the docent and he said he didn’t know but would find out. He brought a senior docent in who reached behind the kindling set up in a small fireplace and extracted a binder which he consulted. Pretty sneaky hiding place! But Soledad was not translated. I said don’t worry, I’ll google it or ask my friend Gianluigi for the meaning, but they were determined to find the information for me. The senior docent whipped out one of those smart devices that everyone but me seem to have grown as extensions of their bodies!

( I had looked around the bar at Applebees last night and told Bill to look at everyone there. The young fellow from Los Alamos noticed my scanning the people and he laughed since he knew what I was observing. The young guy at the end of the bar to our right was talking on a phone, the two girls down from him were somehow communicating with each other or playing a game together on their two devices, the man next to Bill had his phone on the bar close at hand and the four young guys in town for the birthday of a buddy each had a device out on which they were doing who knows what. No body but Bill and I were conversing and had no device at all. Tragic)

Well, Soledad appears to mean solitude. The younger man said that it may not be a Spanish word but rather a Mexican word. Oh, yes, I said, like Quebecois vs Parisian French. Yes, he responded, exactly. The floor of the Mexican period capilla or little chapel is made in the traditional way utilizing clay, dirt, water, straw and animal blood, as a natural hardener and sealant. There are many depictions of Our Lady of Guadalupe within these museums and shrines we visit. it was in this form that Mary, Mother of Christ, is said to have appeared to a poor Mexican Indian farmer. The story is interesting and it resulted in the building of a magnificent cathedral in Mexico City dedicated to her.

http://www.patx.us/olgchurch/story.htm

The Segessa Hide paintings which date back to the earliest period of European colonization of New Mexico and the West but their exact date of origin is not known. There is a rather large detailed book in the gift shop but it looked deadly boring as some history books tend to be. It is known, however, that a Jesuit priest—of course—sent them to Lucerne, Switzerland in the 18th century—probably to one of their Fatherhouses. They were rediscovered after WWII but not returned to New Mexico until 1988.

Bill hopped into his trusty pick-up and transported us across the courtyard and into the modern New Mexico Museum of History where we thoroughly enjoyed the extensive Cowboy exhibit. As is often the case with special exhibits no photography was allowed. I was amazed that there was no retrospective in the gift shop, but I’ve found a distinct lack of aggressive commercialism both here and in Taos. So refreshing. Everyone is legitimately welcoming and warm and seem to have no problem with the browsing customer.

As a matter of fact, in the Palace gift store we had an extensive conversation with the salesman about glasses and contacts and the experiences each of the three of us have had with them through the years. The topic originated with the saleslady who wore two sets of glasses simultaneously. As he escorted us to the courtyard, the topic turned to the galleries explaining the history of New Mexico, where he told us the story of some of the bigger political crooks and their embezzlement of government money was conveniently excluded. We laughed and said not a unique situation—perhaps, he’d like to vie with Louisiana for most corrupt State.

In the Museum gift shop I learned that the salesman used to summer at Lake St Catherine and absolutely loved the area, though he hasn’t been there in years. I bought No Life for a Lady to go with my copy of Vanished Arizona which I’d purchased in Yuma several years back. Vanished Arizona is about an Eastern young woman who marries a cavalry officer post Civil War who is stationed in Yuma. She describes the trip to the posting and her years living in the Arizona desert and the changes it underwent through the early 20th Century. This author’s father was one of the prominent engineers for the Santa Fe Railroad. I read the first chapter before I realized that and it brought to mind the book I read about the building of that Railroad and its competition with others trying to build railroads to open the West. Born in 1874, she died in 1958 and saw the West undergo an even greater change than the Arizona lady.

By the time we left the museums the rain was coming down in earnest and it was 2:30. Wandered around the Plaza a little bit taking photos and enjoying the Spring-like feel of the air. By this time we were hungry and tired so returned to the Hotel. Bill turned on the Syracuse game and I read for awhile with some cheese and crackers.

While I blogged and organized pictures Bill went next door to the Chinese restaurant. Brought me back a huge package of Pork fried rice and I opened a pinot grigio to go with it. Going to google the San Miguel Mission and Loretto Chapel to see if they are open tomorrow—it is Sunday again. I’d like to see them—San Miguel is the considered to oldest church in the US and Loretto is the site of the spiral staircase that has no nails in it—it is considered an engineering “ miracle” and the legends of its building are myriad. Lilies of the Field was, I believe, loosely based on one of the legends.

If they are open we may stay another night and take in the Goya exhibit also. If they are not,we will move out tomorrow and head for Bernalillo and the Coronado State Monument and continue westward to Grants. With all this rain, it may be that Chaco is out of the question once more but Bill said we could take a full day’s tour of de Chelley if I’d like. All in all, the next day is not yet planned but we are heading farther west soon.

For now, it is time to file purchases, read a little of Billy the Kid and maybe take in an episode of House of Cards. Stay tuned—more to come tomorrow. Oh,yes, isn't that a wonderful picture of Georgia O'Keeffe and Clifford Cox at Canyon de Chelley? I think it shows her humor and sense of fun--more than the usual somber pictures usually published. This is by Ansel Adams. KandB

Our Lady of Guadalupe and Georgia O’Keeffe

Friday February 28,2014 Quality Inn Santa Fe, New Mexico 5:03 PM MST  Suite 108

Boy, oh Boy, did the wind howl last night!  Some rain and the far mountains this morning showed there was a bit of snow, too. Today was beautiful, however, starting with temps in the 50’s and warming up to the 60’s by noon. Had done my nails last night and was pleased to see they needed just a bit of refining around the edges but the colors perfect for the Southwest—a bit of terra cotta with some spring green.

We have many things we’d like to see in Santa Fe, Holy Faith, but among altitude, hot sun without many clouds and age, we are going to not overdo. Today we chose two of the places, close to each other and both time consuming with walking. So after breakfast we started out to the Sanctuaria ( Shrine ) of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I remember receiving a holy card of  this incarnation of Mary, the Mother of Christ, as a prize for winning a spelling bee. The aura around her was a metallic gold and the stars on her dress and veil were also. I always loved the card and think it may still be around somewhere, unless it was in my St Joseph’s Missal which my father gave away after I moved out on my own. At any rate, the history of this Church, its simplicity and its many representations of Mary was very interesting. There was no one there, to speak of. A local lady who took home one of the poinsettia plants in the nave with a sign to take one home. A couple of men, who came and prayed for a short time and lit candles. Other than those few people, the place was ours and it was so serene and soothing. We walked around the whole square block—enjoying the quiet neighborhood with its high walled homes and carved wooden doors for entry into their private courtyards.

Drove over a few blocks and parked on Grant St to explore the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum which is a small, intimate space with simple exhibit space. The museum owns 3000 pieces of her works as well as Ghost Ranch and her home in Abiququi. The exhibits are changed fairly frequently and though not all are of GOK’s work ( the museum is the OK ) those that are of her things usually include the works of another artist with whom she was familiar and whose work mirrors hers in location and focus. Today’s was a small retrospective of her paintings done in Hawaii when she was hired to illustrate Dole Pineapple Company’s Pineapple Juice ad campaign. (Interesting that Rockwell is considered an illustrator because of his work with the Sat. Evening Post but she is considered an artist despite this work for Dole—ah, artistic airs and snobbery!) Her works were interspersed with Ansel Adams photographs of Hawaii on a different trip and for different reasons. These I could not photograph.

I found her change in colors and heaviness of strokes and tools through the years very interesting. It is so interesting to me that her early NYC and pre-NYC work has been largely forgotten—even her Lake George work –across the Lake from our camp—is relatively unknown except to real fans. Her flowers are probably best known of her work and yet she spent so much of her life painting the Southwest, in particular the landscape around her homes in New Mexico. Indeed, she had been coming here for winters since the 20’s and moved here permanently in 1949. She died in 1986 so 36 years of her output, not counting the sojourns to escape Lake George and NYC, had as its focus the scenes of New Mexico. My first introduction to her work were sun-bleached cattle skulls on sand under a bright blue sky with impossibly white clouds. To this day, those are my favorite of her works.

Leaving the museum it was amusing to see a modern day Georgia or George has one of those skulls bound to the grill of a car, parked in a compact car zone, which was hardly compact. We took a spin around the Plaza to scout out parking and location of other sights in preparation for tomorrow. Then we found an Applebees for an early dinner. What fun we had, on our left, four clean-cut Anglo boys—around 30, since they were in town from Los Alamos, Atlanta and other out of town places to attend a surprise party for a fellow here in town whose 30th birthday is today. Bantered and chatted with them on and off and also chatted with the group of Native blue-collar workmen, also in their mid-30s. One fellow just arrived back from Eagle’s Nest where he was working. Another man works in the Santa Fe Sewers and another was a carpenter. This was as much fun and as interesting as the Shrine and the museum.

Came back to the motel and relaxing with the news—a life-long farmer declared dead at the hospital, in the body bag, ready to be embalmed when he moved and it was discovered he is very much alive. Where is that bell string when you need it?  Scary!

Don’t know what is on the agenda tomorrow but looking forward to it. Will let you know all about it tomorrow night. Take care and don’t let the bedbugs bite. Hugs, KandB