Some Good News After All.

Peach Blossoms

As reported previously, the palms are DOA, as is the fig, and much of the cacti, and presumably the oleander. Noticed yesterday that even the large Mexican Elder is brittle, and may be dead as well. All victims of either/or the brutal February cold snap and drought. But I've been watering the pines (now that all of our piping's been repaired) and I'm happy to report they're no longer golden in color, but are now more of a rusty red with a lot of pale green starting to show through! Best of all, as illustrated by the photo above, the peach tree has survived, and is blossoming. Some of the readers of this blog may have tasted the peaches from this tree last Summer, so you know this is very, very good news. I'm betting the little pecan is probably all right as well.

Wildflower Season

Wildflower season in the Desert Southwest is ramping up.  On Easter Sunday, we took a long drive into the hills, first to do some Geocaching Northeast of Deming.  The purpose of this was to work up an appetite for the huge buffet Albert Campos was laying out at his restaurant.  (It did not disappoint.. especially the Chicken Cordon Bleu with the surprise inside: Green Chiles).  The entire hillsides of the Goodsight mountains were yellow.. somewhat from the Mexican Poppies, but mostly the huge carpets of smaller yellow-green flowers which may or may not be mustardseed.

Following our huge dinner and desert, we needed more exercise, and drove the Mitsubishi up the power line "road" to a point about 3/4 mile from the big blankets of poppies.  Far from showing signs of fading away, new bunches of this beautiful flower are showing up every day.  Our yard is overrun!

In addition, we spotted many other flowers which are just beginning to pop up.  Most of them we've been unable to identify.  Some of them we think we've identified.  We're leaving it up to you, our loyal readers to look at the pictures in the slide show (below) and help us identify what we're seeing.  (It may be easier to click through to the album at Picasa Albums, and look at the larger versions).

"Red or Green?"

The other day while we were shopping at Pepper's Supermarket (a very popular store not effected whatsoever by the existence of the Supercenter in town), it occurred to me that if we were going to be long-term residents of New Mexico, it was time to reduce our dependence on canned green chiles, and get ourselves some fresh. Alas, the peppers from uh, Pepper's, are not New Mexico peppers from Hatch, NM, but are a product of Mexico. New Mexico grows twice as many green chiles, (similar to Anaheim, or Big Jim chiles), as the next biggest grower, California.

Hear me now and believe me later, come August-September, we'll be roasting Hatch chiles here at the Hare Brained Homestead. The aroma of roasting chiles is everything they say it is. These guys are now in the freezer, to be used the next time we fire up the grill for burgers, or make us some huevos for breakfast. Yum.

PS: The spell checker wants me to change the spelling of chiles. Ain't gonna happen. In NM, this is the correct spelling and I'm sticking to it!

Oh, and the answer to the question posited in the title?: with me, it's always green.

After All, What's Money For...?

...If not to spend.

What a story I have for you today.

If you were thinking about coming to our open house this Saturday, but you live, say, on the other side of the country, or even up in the northern part of the state and you didn't have the time to make the drive, I've got great news!

Yesterday, I was clearing brush in the backyard in preparation for fencing in a dog area.  As I pried up a mesquite root, I spied something green underneath.  A bit of digging produced a ragged canvas satchel, and through the many holes I discovered the "green" I saw was cash.  Green bills... lots of them.  We haven't counted it all yet, but I can tell you they're old.. early 20th century.  We think there's a couple hundred thousand dollars here, maybe as much as half-million.  

The local paper picked up the story, and tomorrow we'll be dealing with the major networks.. crews from the Today show and Good Morning America will be here, and of course the local news affiliates from Albuquerque.

Where did it come from?  Well, the Butterfield Stage ran not far north of here.  Billy the Kid was active in West Texas and southern New Mexico.  We don't know.  We don't care.  We just know it's ours!

But we're simple folks at heart.  We're pretty happy with our new place, so we're not going to invest very heavily into any major improvements (except maybe central air!), and we might spend some on a major overhaul of the Hare-Brained Express, but we made a decision to mostly try to blow it all on the housewarming party this Saturday!

Through Margaret's son, Tony, (who knows the DIY lady on the show), we've got Rachel Ray coming to do the catering.  When that news leaked out, we heard from Emeril and Bobby Flay, who also want to come and turn it in to some kind of cooking competition on our back deck!  So friends, the food is going to be spectacular, as are the free blimp rides we've arranged with the Goodyear people.  We'll have lots of wine from the local winery.  A string quartet, fronted by Yo Mama on cello will provide the music during the day, and country rockers, Cross Canadian Ragweed will keep the neighbors (those that aren't here) awake long into the night.

And that's not the best part-

- this is:  If you want to come, just let us know.  We'll arrange for your airfare from wherever you are to the El Paso airport, and then have you choppered directly to our back yard!  We want this to be the biggest party  in New Mexico history!  Be a part of it!

Just email us your itinerary and 

do it TODAY: April 1st.

HOUSEWARMING!!

Y'all come!  Maybe we'll have a rattlesnake round up!

Mr. Happy Tooth No More.

I brush every day; use one of those Oral B spinning, vibrating brushes. Floss nearly as often, and use an anti plaque pre- rinse, and a Listerine clone after. I don't drink sugared soft drinks, and I avoid fruit juices. I visit my dentist every... uh. Hmm. Yeah, I visit a dentist every
20 years or so....?

Okay, so I have a scheduling problem. It's associated with a recurring financial problem.. I can't afford to go t0 the dentist. No big, I thought, having only one emergency since my last root canal, sometime in the early Nineties.

Well... last month, while parked in Texas, watching TV and eating popcorn, I noticed.. my tongue noticed.. a big hole in the middle of a molar that wasn't there before the second handful of popcorn. This was a cause for concern. But not enough for emergency concern. There was some pain, but not the kind you associate with exposed angry nerve endings... more just uncomfortable. I figured I could just chew on the left side until we got to our Wintering spot in New Mexico. Which just happens to be 30 miles north of La Paloma, Mexico. Home to several English-speaking dentists, optometrists, pharmacists, etc.

I made the appointment with Dr. Oscar Daniel Perez at American Dental Care, located just a block and a half from the border, behind the famous Pink Store, (where we would have an excellent lunch afterwards, and use our free Margaritas coupons).

Border crossing from New Mexico into Paloma is, we'll say, informal. Park the car at the Duty Free shop in the US, and just walk on in to Mexico. (Returning would take only slightly longer).

For reasons I still don't quite understand, Margaret requires a dose of antibiotics prior to dental work, so we went first to one of the many pharmacies on the main drag. It may be of some interest to dog owners, that we picked up a 50-count package of Cephalexin, 500mg, for all of $4 and change, US. Just about any drug that's not a narcotic is available over the counter at great prices. The prices in Mexico would continue to amaze us, after our visit to the dentist.

When we arrived at the office, there were only a handful of people in the waiting room; all Yanquis like us, and either full time RVers like us, or dwellers of the borderlands region. It's easy to see what Dr. Perez's target demographic is.

Margaret was just getting her teeth cleaned. I was getting my teeth cleaned and, I thought, getting my filling repaired. That's when everything started to go south... figuratively speaking.

Dr. Perez looked at the tooth and what remained of the filling, and found evidence of decay around the gum line. He advised that it would be better to get a crown, than repair the filling, because I would just be paying for work on the same tooth twice. That made sense to me.

Then Dr. Perez's partner (and wife), Dr. Karla Marmolejo, commenced to cleaning my teeth. She promptly hit a nerve in the wrong side of my mouth, swabbed on some topical pain killer and went to work again, then stopped. She had a long conversation with Oscar in Spanish and he then took over.

This is where the real bad news starts. He told me there was a line of brown material over most of the gum line, top and bottom. He thought at first it was tarter, except it wouldn't come off. It's tooth decay. He's not sure why it's so prevalent, hazarding a guess about minerals in water, but whatever the reason, it's there. It will need extensive filling.

The good news is... or part of the good news is, it's not an emergency situation, (except for the original crown thing). I can get it done in stages, and since we'll be living here it won't cause a scheduling issue. I'm getting the crown done in two weeks, before we pull out of Deming for the last big road trip with the Express. The rest will be done over the next year, after we've moved into the Mountain House.

He wrote out an estimate. That's the second part of the good news. To see what all this would cost in the US, click on the amounts:

Bridge. 4 teeth... $600

Extractions. 2 $50 each

Porcelain Crown. 1 $150

Fillings. 12 (yeah, TWELVE) $50 each

So there you have a brief report on my very first visit to Mexico. I'll be saving a lot of money, and tequila is unbelievably cheap at the Duty Free.

And speaking of Duty Free.. this one came as quite a shock to someone who's used to the Duty Free shops on the way to Canada. Here, you park your car in the lot, go into Duty Free, buy your $12 Cabo Wabo, walk into Mexico, cross the street, walk back into the US, get in your car and go home. Get drunk.

We're going to like living here.

FREE is Good!

We're familiar with the local Denny's, because that's where the draw for local hunts is always held. Other than those events, we're not likely to breakfast at Denny's, or any other similar chain restaurant, preferring locally owned diners and restaurants.

But when breakfast is free, we're always there, dude. The above ad was one of the best of the Super Bowl, as well.

And so, we found ourselves in a very crowded lobby this morning, waiting for a table. The list was long, but the efficiency of the cooks, the waitstaff, and the table cleaners (which looked suspiciously like management), was impressive to observe, and soon we were seated, with coffee (no, the coffee price was not $5.99), and were placing our order with our waiter, Robert who, despite the frantic pace, remained cheerful. Or gay. Possibly both. Our free Grand Slams were in front of us in about 2 minutes.

That's livin'. Yum.

What a Life.

Last Monday, I dropped Margaret off at yet another airport- Austin, TX in this case. She'll be in Michigan for a couple of weeks, then she and her mother will be flying to Georgia for Christmas with a large chunk of the family.

I returned to our parking place of late, the driveway of our good friend Sherita, in the tiny burg of Santa Anna, Texas. (Dining tip: H&H Diner. Another case of good grub in small towns. In this case, the jalapeno cheeseburger's to die for. They also make their own pies and cookies.) Sherita has wireless internet access in the driveway, so I have no excuse for not blogging for the last couple of weeks other than the usual: lazy.

I left Santa Anna this afternoon, bound for Socorro, NM where, this Saturday, a certain Spanish Greyhound will run in his first official hunt. This trip was up in the air until I actually backed out of the driveway- it seems "Mr. I've-never-seen-anything-I-wouldn't-put-in-my-mouth" last Sunday retrieved, from a nearly impossible location, the big bottle of generic Ibuprofen, chewed off the lid, and scattered the contents around the living room of the Express! This, while I was shooting the AHCA trial, and Margaret was outside manning her laptop for the clients. I didn't think he actually ingested anything because of the amount left on the floor, but it became very apparent on Monday, that he had, indeed, swallowed a couple before deciding they weren't to his taste. Evidence including diarrhea, vomiting, frequent urination.. all the typical signs of Ibuprofen toxicity.

Unfortunately, it was 24 hours after the fact, so any first aid would have been useless, and it was time for a lot of breath holding. The vomiting only lasted for a few hours. The diarrhea is still an on and off thing, but the blood- indicating stomach ulceration- is becoming less, with a regimen of Mylanta, Immodium, and yogurt. I had blood work done by the local country doc, and all the kidney numbers were normal, and the blood was clotting normally. Most importantly, his activity level is back to obnoxiously normal!

So, I hit the road. Rather late, actually, but I made it to Brownfield, TX , just East of the New Mexico border on US380. I'm staying at Coleman Park, a nice city park with 14 free full-hookup RV sites, five of which are now filled. And, as a bonus: free WiFi!

300 miles to go. I'll have high speed wireless again at Casey's in Socorro. I plan to spend a couple of days there after the hunt, and do some wildlife and landscape shooting, and will share that when it happens. And more.

We Find Good Food Again.

Someday, some university or culinary institute with time and money on their hands will fund research on why little, itty-bitty villages are homes to such great eateries.

Last weekend we were shooting a lure coursing event in Chickasha, OK. The trial was in conjunction with a dog show, so when we were looking to get something to eat on Saturday evening, we were hoping to avoid any place glutted with "show people".

Thanks to the sleuthing skills of our friend Elizabeth Lane, we found ourselves driving ten miles north to the little town of Amber, (pop. 521), home of Ken's Steaks and Ribs.

As we approached the establishment on Main St. (no traffic signals or blinkers, just stop signs), we first noticed Ken's Gas Station, and Ken's Convenience Store, and finally, at the end of a long building, Ken's Steaks and Ribs. There were a few cars and trucks parked in front. Then we saw the rest of the parking lot. A very packed parking lot! The place was apparently very popular.

Fortunately for us, Elizabeth and our other 3 dining partners were already at the head of the line for our table, and so was Ken himself, dressed in white from head to toe, with red suspenders (and belt). He looked like a cross between Colonel Sanders and Arthur Fiedler. He whacked Margaret on the arm in friendly greeting as we approached.

Down to business. Ken's serves only the basics, so there's no menu. Ribs (3 or 5), Sirloin (5oz or 8oz), Prime Rib, or Chicken. The salad bar is constantly kept fresh, with Romaine not iceberg! If you've never been there before (which Ken ascertains when you arrive), there's a basket of ribs on your table when you get back from the salad bar- one for each person at the table.

Our table was split between ribs (the best I've ever had, with a great dry rub that needed no sauce), and prime rib. The sirloin wasn't missed, though. As we were eating our salads, Ken approached the table and asked how we like to order steaks... we were pretty much together in the medium/medium rare camp. So Ken says, he's going to have the cook do up a medium rare sirloin for us to try. I'm trying not to use so many superlatives in this review, but by god that was the best tasting sirloin I've ever had.. seriously. Lean but juicy, with an almost buttery flavor. And really, really tender.

Based on this dining experience, we'll make the Chickasha trials a regular part of our Fall shooting schedule. It's not to be missed, even though....

...there's no bar or alcohol
...no credit cards, cash only
...only open Thursday through Saturday, 4-9:30

...at least our group comprised the only "show folk" in attendance.

Traveling Light.

Last Friday morning I packed up my cameras, a laptop, a suitcase, and one male Galgo Español into the Escape. Leaving the Express, (not to mention Margaret, four dogs and a cat), in Boswell, Oklahoma, I headed West. My destination: The ASFA Region 3 Invitational in Stanley, NM.

It's been a long, long time since I've made a 650 mile road trip in a car. I've forgotten how hard it is, which is to say I re-learned to respect those of you who travel great distances to events every week, or even every other month.

I had to get used to using public restrooms! And filling the tank at the auto pumps at the Flying J's instead of the RV lanes. (There was good news at the pumps, however. Flying J in Wichita Falls, TX: $1.93/gal for unleaded- $1.85 with my frequent fueler discount!). Not traveling with all of our possessions meant I had to constantly worry that I hadn't left anything important behind. In fact, I did. We didn't load our dwindling inventory of "I'd Rather Be Coursing" bumper stickers. A minor inconvenience, I guess, in the grand scheme of things. Would have been worse to forget the camera, or memory cards.

I arrived exhausted, about 10 hours later. The last 250 miles, or so, being much faster than the first 400, as I finally got on the Interstate in Amarillo. I hate slowing down for all the little burghs in Texas. Other states have found a cure for this: they're called bypasses.

My hosts, Steve and Joan Garth, (whom you may remember from our Summer trip to California), were waiting with wine, and a comfort-food dinner. I tried to keep up with the conversation and be sociable, while I attempted to shake off the sensation 2 hours after I parked in their driveway, that I was still sitting in a speeding vehicle. At 7:30 I said I needed to put my head on a pillow for a minute. My minute ended when I got up the next morning to go to the trials.

What a great location for a lure coursing trial. I'll have pictures in a coming post. Not big trial... most of them in the West are smaller than what we normally see in the East, but the people are friendly, the dogs run as well as they do everywhere, and the lunches were good. Not to spoil the suspense, but a trial here leaves one hard pressed to separate reality from fantasy. As you'll see.

Saturday night, a large group had dinner at The Buford Steak House in Moriarty, NM. My filet was good, but I think many in attendance would have been more impressed had they not been out of many of the things they would have wanted: Merlot, Cobblers of any kind, certain side dishes, etc. Kind of inexcusable for early on a Saturday night. But like I said.. the meat was as advertised.

Sunday was the Regional Invitational trial. A little different from what we're used to, as Saturdays are the normal day in other ASFA regions. But their reasoning goes back to the small trial thing. Having a regular all-breed trial on Saturday gives dogs who don't get out much a chance to get the point they need to run in the Regional.

I should mention the weather. Fabulous. Saturday was sunny and 70's, and very, very dry. Sunday started the same, with some clouds coming in around lunchtime, followed by an increase in wind, and finally, as the trial was ending, a precipitous drop in temperature. We got out of there just in time. Many of the Coloradans left in somewhat of a panic as there was bad weather threatening the Raton Pass between New Mexico and Colorado.

It was raining Sunday night as I went to bed, but rain was forecast for Monday. "light showers... 30%" is what the Weather Channel said. No problem. I'd brought my rain gear. Sandia and I were going to chase some Jackrabbits today, along with a couple of his litter mates, so it was rather disappointing to look out the window this morning and see.... white. Blowing... white. Whiskey.. Tango... Foxtrot? As the locals are fond of saying to visitors in times like this: "Welcome to the East Mountains".

Snow on South Mountain

The snow wasn't going to stay on the ground for very long, but the wind wasn't going to let up either, and that effectively scotched our planned hunt. Dogs can get disoriented and lost when running in the desert in high winds. The forecast for tomorrow looks much improved, so we're going to hit the desert before I head back East to Oklahoma. I owe Sandia that much for being cooped up in the car, and in a house full of strange dogs and people all weekend.

Besides, we need to get back and keep Margaret in line. When I called her this morning, she was in Paris!!!

...

...

...

Texas. ;)

Help Us Spike!

We left Flagstaff around 11 this morning. The problem with the motorhome fixed, with a $22 part, and 4 hours or research labor. What was the problem, you ask? I don't want to talk about it. Let's just say it involved a part that I mentioned on the very first post on our trip.

Besides.. we have bigger problems now than some old K&N filter with too much oil on it.

We travelled 235 miles today, to roughly 25 miles west of Needles, California. We were into our second climbing stage out of the Colorado River basin when there was a loud noise, and it only took a second to realize that while the engine was still running, we didn't have any power steering. Cataclysmic destruction of the serpentine belt.

So, here we're parked, behind the Colorado River Cheverolet Dealership in Needles, waiting for them to open in the morning, so we can get the damn belt replaced, and not miss more than two deerhound events.. (LGRA, ASFA Lure Coursing).

You know you've heard of Needles if you watch your local weathercasts: "And the hottest place in the nation again was Needles, CA at 107 degrees". Fortunately, we'll be gone before Wednesday, when it will get really hot.

Oh.. and gas here? $4.99/gal. Yeah.. we could live here. It's hot... but it's a dry heat.

*****

Talk about a vertical profile! That trip down Oak Creek Canyon was nothing. In 4 hours today, we went from around 7000', cool-ish temps, at Flagstaff, to the California border at the Colorado River: 326' and 102 degrees. A shock to the system.

*****

And who is this "Spike"? You know. Click on the title.

*****

Decent little Chinese place here.... right up on the corner. Dinner specials packaged like lunch specials, including rice, soup, and soft noodles. Hmmm, noodles in Needles.

Stuck in Flagstaff, Mile 1852.

I "knocked on wood" goddammit! You all read it here. So why, some sixty miles or so after our stop at the Jackrabbit Trading Post, did the engine suddenly lose power?

We had to pull off on the shoulder, where it finally died. We waited a couple of minutes, and on the second attempt it started right up. It was flooding for some reason. Back on the highway, we made it another 10 miles before it did it again.

We called our road service and got the phone number for a service center in Flagstaff. We had two more "episodes" before we finally made it to the Flagstaff RV Service Center.

The problem: It was a Friday afternoon, they closed at 5:30, there were 3 rigs in front of us... and they're not open Saturday. About 5:30 they at least got in to check the fuel pressure- good. Problem is not yet another fuel pump. Filter was clear, no blockages. Code reader showed a couple of sensors having problems that could conceivably be sucking the power down. All that pollution equipment that wasn't in vehicles when I was a kid!

Time was up. We found "Black Bart's RV Park, Steakhouse, Music Hall with Singing Waiters". Holy Cow! We didn't eat there, as the menu was way overpriced, and the parking lot was packed to the rafters, so to speak. Instead, we found yet another great Mexican restaurant... Salsa Brava. It was a "pork night". I had the Adovada Combo, and Margaret had the Carnitas Combo. It was good, good, good! The pineapple-habanero salsa was delicious, but not nearly as hot as advertised. My only disappointment of the night.

Since we're stuck here for the weekend, and going to miss the small Scottish Deerhound LGRA (8 entries) on Monday morning, we decided to "make lemonade". Today we're going to Sedona... gonna get our auras and chi adjusted to some new age brain-mush music or something. Or maybe we'll just go see the Red Rocks. Stand by.

Summer Hunting With the Family

Yes, it's possible. If you get up really early on a July morning, even in New Mexico, you can get your dogs out in the field before it gets too warm, and the snakes wake up.

Early means 5:00AM if you want to get to the fields near Moriarty at the crack of dawn. We loaded up Sandia with his sister, Maya, and his aunt, the notorious Camille, in Steve's Explorer and headed out at 5:30 in moderately cool 58 degree temps.

By 7:30, we'd run two jacks, and the temperature started to rise. We headed back to the vehicle, and by 8:30 we were meeting Joan and Margaret at the once-closed, and now re-opened with new owners, East Mountain Grill, (No web page). As good, or better than we remembered.

This is our "day off" from travelling. I've got a little project to finish on the motor home, and mostly we're just kicking back. Maybe we'll go ride the "World's longest aerial tramway" to the top of our Galgo's namesake mountain. Or maybe not, now that I've checked the rates. :-(

Maybe we'll just sit tight, and await tonight's next powerful thunderstorm.

Day 4, Mile 1347

Tucumcari tonight! If that sounds familiar, it may be because it's on countless billboards from Oklahoma City to Santa Monica, and from El Paso to Yellowstone. Or... you may remember that I've also used it before.

And your math skills haven't left you if you figured out we only drove 258 miles today. Needing dog food, and that all-important Route 66 bumper sticker (and a couple of T-shirts, as it turned out), we didn't leave Elk City until after Noon.

The museum looks nice, but we didn't have time to go through it. In fact there are a cluster of museums, and they can all be viewed for one price; $4 for AARP members.
The view from "The Road" (above), and proof (below) that "everything old is new again". This trailer was hand-built, using plans published in Popular Science (or a similar magazine), before WWII.

Seen one lately?

Smaller, by orders of magnitude, than what you see on clifftops throughout the West and Southwest, this "wind farm" was at the Farm Museum, which is also part of the Route 66 complex.

*******

Dinner tonight was at Del's in Tucumcari. Been in town at least 4 times and have never eaten anywhere else, and they don't even have liquor! So that should tell you something.