It was great while it lasted

Yesterday we saw what seems to have become a limited quantity in Taos this winter: sunshine. Not a milky sky that purports to be "sun", but the real deal. Sunshine so bright the snow looked alive with jewels everywhere you looked. Sunshine so bright our skies were that incredible blue we're famous for. Sunshine so bright I spent the day smiling and feeling like I had suddenly lost a huge weight off my shoulders. We were all smiling...even the dogs...no kidding.

I took Sascha for a walk so we could enjoy the wonder of it all. In some places, I sank into snow up to my knees (that would be 22"). She all but disappeared, but has learned to frog leap from one spot to the next, hoping for more shallow ground on the next landing. We made snow angels, and I wished I could manage a camera while wrangling one wiggly Rottweiler on a long lead. It was pure joy. It was why I love to live here. Nature at her most stunning.

I know this may seem to be a silly posting, but it has been so grey and depressing here, I had to share this. I have been feeling like someone has put a dark blanket over me for months, as you may have noticed since I've had little inspiration for posting.

Notice to El Nino: you can go back to where you came from, we're over it.

The end of the week

I've been feeling sad about not posting, but I haven't had anything come to mind other than the fragments that are flying around in my head on a regular basis. Lots more thoughts about the conversation about letter writing, which, in turn, brought back more childhood memories that I probably need to put to paper one day...mostly for myself. A purging, of sorts. Maybe looking at all of it on paper will cause it all to make more sense than how it feels when these things are flying around in my head like little meteors.

Our new family member has kept us on our toes. She is a rambunctious teenager, one who was dominant and in charge in her first home and isn't allowed to be here. She is now trying to decide which one of us is her alpha.

I've been hooking a lot this past couple of weeks, and am almost finished with my project started far too long ago. It's great to be back at work. I am watching to make sure I don't mess up my neck again like I did last year.

On the nightstand is a book called "On Mexican Time". Written in the mid-late 80s, it's about a writer and his artist wife who escape Los Angeles and move to San Miguel de Allende. My father brought us up to believe that one never ever should cross the border into Mexico, so I've only visited Baja a couple of times in my (misspent) youth. This is really a nice escape on these grey winter days...and once again is stirring up my desire to visit the town in Mexico where my father's family came from. Con tiempo.

Have a good weekend...

The art of writing letters

I've been thinking a lot lately about how using the internet has all but killed the art of letter writing.

I used to love to hand write letters, and have written hundreds upon hundreds in my years. I hear they're still out there...friends have told me they have kept them...and that is also thought provoking to me. It's like my history is spread out around the country in little envelopes.

There was a time when families kept oral histories, and if you're one of the lucky ones, perhaps you have old family correspondence to reflect back on, as well. My neighbor Kathy was telling me recently about a diary that has been passed along in her family, written by a woman in her family in upstate New York in the 1700s. She has offered to share it with me. After listening to her talk about her family history, it made me wish I had a decade to devote to studying her family and perhaps writing a book about it. I know so little about my own family history, but then, maybe that's OK. I can write my own history, can't I?

I have two friends who will still write letters once in a blue moon. Nowadays, we're all too "busy" to take that time. The time I spent writing letters with my morning coffee is now spent on the internet.

It's a different world, and I'm not saying I don't like it...I just worry that one day, our kids and their kids won't have much of us to reflect back on, between digital photos and e-mails. How can we make sure that doesn't happen???

(Photo of 100 year old letter courtesy of D Sharon Pruitt.)

Hibernation

I've been fairly deep in hibernation since Mr. S. left town on 1/26...only one trip out, last Saturday, to visit our new dog. If you've been with me for very long, you know how I value my time alone. Nothing about not loving all the people in my world, I'm just wired in such a way that I seem to need this sort of time to refuel my soul.

It has been a productive time...spinning lots of new yarns, doing some dyeing, finishing a book and starting another. I've walked the dogs in the deepest snow I could find in the yard, pretending I was getting a great workout. The sun has been rather illusive, so I've not been able to do photo shoots of so much shop inventory that awaits. It's OK, though...this year is the year I'm trying to really work hard at setting sensible, achievable priorities and lose the last remnants of my secret Type A personality. There are two of me who live here: one who would love to travel endlessly and the other who never wants to step outside the gate. Finding balance is part of this year's plan.

Today's the big day: our new girl dog comes home. Last weekend she met Haus, our big goofy male Rottie. He was singularly unimpressed, and found her a bit of a bother. He has led a sedentary life style these two years we've had him, so having a new girl pup to run him around the corral is going to rock his world...in a good way, I hope. Here are a couple of photos of them meeting last Saturday. He's the handsome devil sporting the pinch collar.

Cell phones in the car

Today, while working on a rug, I decided to catch up on some programs recorded on my DVR. The program I chose was an Oprah show from at least a week ago. If you saw this program, you know what an incredibly powerful show it was. If you didn't, here are some things for you to consider.

Approximately 500,000 people are in accidents each year, caused by drivers distracted by either texting or talking on their phones.

6,000 of those people will die as a result of a cell phone in a car.

The stories were many, all tragic, all avoidable. There was also a gentleman from a university in Utah who has spent 10 years studying what happens to your driving abilities when you are distracted. They now have proof that your peripheral vision is significantly reduced, and because your brain is not wired for this particular type of multi-tasking, you brain may even remove things from your field of vision.

Guess what? Using a head set and talking "hands free" is not an OK thing to do. I live with someone who is happy to conduct business on his phone while driving, and it makes me crazy. I'm sure he'll not want to believe what I'm going to tell him when he gets home. As was pointed out on the program...there are so many who think they're smart enough to pull it off.

Really, folks. Is a phone call or text message really more important than a life? If you feel this is an important message, please share it with others. This is a serious matter that's only going to get worse if something isn't done to stop it.