May 4th, 2007.
The clunks and rattles of the early-to-rise hikers helped us peel out of bed at 6 am. Without the benefit of a brisk and breathtaking hike to look forward to, we steeled ourselves for another day of "car body." "Car body," as you can probably guess from personal experience, is that peculiar state of the body that always includes one raised hip, hunched shoulders, tennis balls hiding within the confines of shoulder blades, bent knees and the conviction that the back is a hinged joint somewhere about the middle of the spine. Oh yes, and I forgot to mention the flat ass, somewhat numb from not very much circulation and too many chips. We jealously regarded the fit, adventurous climbers anticipating the overwhelming beauty of the landscape as we all mutually emptied our wallets into our gas tanks at the filling station. I did some calf stretches against the curb of the gas-tank island for good measure.
We may not have had a hike to go on, but we did benefit from a fantastic complimentary breakfast at 6:45 am from our gracious hosts at Mondo Cafe, Bob and Sarah. That actually goes miles within our budget and is greatly appreciated. Thanks again you guys. No snow to report however... that happens later on. And besides a lesson on how to say "Shiprock" in Navajo from this amazing woman who gave us free popcorn at the filling station in New Mexico, nothing much happened. To my shame, I can't remember the word, but I can tell you it sounds much prettier than "shiprock," and it's meaning implies the wing of a bird. The wing image makes much more sense when you look at the land feature anyway. Damn, the things you forget.
We arrived at Casa Liza y Acazia with enough time to take the most refreshing nap of my life on their futon. It was amazing. In just 30 minutes I felt like I slept 8 hours, no joke. The show itself was at Backroad Pizza. It was wonderful to actually match a face to the name of "Piper," my booking correspondent and the co-owner of the restaurant. The food was awesome, and if you go, I highly recommend the spinach salad. Yes. My car body rejoiced at the taste of something green.
Liza helped us out with these photos. As you can probably tell, she figured out how to use this camera better in 10 minutes than we have been able to figure out in a year. Oh well, that's a professional photographer for you. Among the fine faces we were pleased to see were Julie and Gabe Gomez, Joseph Fitzpatrick (that's "Dean Fitz" to you) and Carol Carpenter, and many more... thanks for the support you guys. After the show, we bailed on the plan to join the karaoke fest at the gay old people's home. I began to regret this, but my tiredness would not comply with any little nag of adventure-seeking curiosity. Just as well, for the fun-fest has disbanded by the time the late posse arrived. But next time, I swear, Bon Jovi will Blaze Glory again in Santa Fe.
This conclusion to my lengthy entry has to do with gratitude for something I give very little honor to and would do well to respect more deeply with my time: Sleep. We are truly blessed to be able to sleep until we wake up, to be sleeping in such a comfortable bed, and to be sleeping in the house of two such beautiful and generous souls. Actually, three such souls, including the regal green-eyed, gray furred, 15 lbs cat, "Little Bear." Little Bear, we love you. Please send a volley of purrs and whiskery nudges to our own dearly missed queen, Dayna. What dreams may come...
The clunks and rattles of the early-to-rise hikers helped us peel out of bed at 6 am. Without the benefit of a brisk and breathtaking hike to look forward to, we steeled ourselves for another day of "car body." "Car body," as you can probably guess from personal experience, is that peculiar state of the body that always includes one raised hip, hunched shoulders, tennis balls hiding within the confines of shoulder blades, bent knees and the conviction that the back is a hinged joint somewhere about the middle of the spine. Oh yes, and I forgot to mention the flat ass, somewhat numb from not very much circulation and too many chips. We jealously regarded the fit, adventurous climbers anticipating the overwhelming beauty of the landscape as we all mutually emptied our wallets into our gas tanks at the filling station. I did some calf stretches against the curb of the gas-tank island for good measure.
We may not have had a hike to go on, but we did benefit from a fantastic complimentary breakfast at 6:45 am from our gracious hosts at Mondo Cafe, Bob and Sarah. That actually goes miles within our budget and is greatly appreciated. Thanks again you guys. No snow to report however... that happens later on. And besides a lesson on how to say "Shiprock" in Navajo from this amazing woman who gave us free popcorn at the filling station in New Mexico, nothing much happened. To my shame, I can't remember the word, but I can tell you it sounds much prettier than "shiprock," and it's meaning implies the wing of a bird. The wing image makes much more sense when you look at the land feature anyway. Damn, the things you forget.
We arrived at Casa Liza y Acazia with enough time to take the most refreshing nap of my life on their futon. It was amazing. In just 30 minutes I felt like I slept 8 hours, no joke. The show itself was at Backroad Pizza. It was wonderful to actually match a face to the name of "Piper," my booking correspondent and the co-owner of the restaurant. The food was awesome, and if you go, I highly recommend the spinach salad. Yes. My car body rejoiced at the taste of something green.
Liza helped us out with these photos. As you can probably tell, she figured out how to use this camera better in 10 minutes than we have been able to figure out in a year. Oh well, that's a professional photographer for you. Among the fine faces we were pleased to see were Julie and Gabe Gomez, Joseph Fitzpatrick (that's "Dean Fitz" to you) and Carol Carpenter, and many more... thanks for the support you guys. After the show, we bailed on the plan to join the karaoke fest at the gay old people's home. I began to regret this, but my tiredness would not comply with any little nag of adventure-seeking curiosity. Just as well, for the fun-fest has disbanded by the time the late posse arrived. But next time, I swear, Bon Jovi will Blaze Glory again in Santa Fe.
This conclusion to my lengthy entry has to do with gratitude for something I give very little honor to and would do well to respect more deeply with my time: Sleep. We are truly blessed to be able to sleep until we wake up, to be sleeping in such a comfortable bed, and to be sleeping in the house of two such beautiful and generous souls. Actually, three such souls, including the regal green-eyed, gray furred, 15 lbs cat, "Little Bear." Little Bear, we love you. Please send a volley of purrs and whiskery nudges to our own dearly missed queen, Dayna. What dreams may come...
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