Do na da go hv i, U na li i

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It's been a sad week for some of my blog friends. Mushy lost his high school friend, Danny, this week after a long battle with cancer. Moose lost his sweet mother just this morning. My sympathies, my dear friends ... I mean that sincerely.

It was only last night that I found our own sad news; a friend had left us as well. I have not replied to that e-mail yet but I will when I can find the needed words but first I must talk to her here.

She was given the name Vonda, a name which her mother told her was Tsalagi (Cherokee) for 'Child of the Morning'. And she was as bright and sparkling as a new sun rising with fresh, limitless possibilities. She befriended me when I signed up to do graphic art for the Main Street effort in an otherwise spiritless and cold village.

"Vonda, they laid you to that final rest today in a place so very far away from here. I was not by your side in the flesh but I was there anyway. The tears no longer easily fall from my eyes but they still rain within my heart, unseen but as ever sorrowful. I will miss you.

You were there to help before I could ever be shamed to ask in desperation. You gave your heart, time and most treasured belongings to anyone you met. And you were forever hurt in a half dozen decades by takers and users but never let it stop you from giving. I wish I had your relentless faith in mankind, I really do. But I somehow fear that you were finally used up like the precious commodity that you were, that your big heart could no longer bear you aloft in this world.

You befriended me despite my many eccentricities. You adopted us as family. You never hid me from your famous, fancier and richer friends - your love had no earthly boundaries.

I can count the number of people I have met, admired and learned to trust on less digits than my fingers and toes. You took a place on one counting digit and it will likely remain reserved for you. Farewell, friend (Do na da go hv i, U na li i) ... I will miss you deeply until we meet again."
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I stared out the window today, a lot. And I saw an eagle circling, unusual since they had not been by in quite a while. I grabbed the camera with the zoom lens and threw open the window. Just as I was able to focus in on this visitor, it disappeared from view. I lowered the camera and scanned the skies intently for any trace of it. It was simply gone. Perhaps moved on to some freer, more effortless realm of flight as my Vonda did.
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Ads with Subtractions

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I'll admit it, my muse has left me for the moment. And not in a kindly parting either. She smacked me in the face, packed her stuff and slammed the screen door behind her. Okay, so maybe we don't have the screen door installed yet but you get the idea. I think it was all over Mark coming home VERY sick on Wednesday and showing no improvement since, despite already being on antibiotics! Out here in the middle of nowhere, especially when you have no health insurance, such things can be a worry. Tomorrow, the herbs and medicinals will be dragged out again to be brewed up in hearty measures of teas and soups.

In the meantime, I was at a loss to post what I had in mind so I rummaged through my files for inspiration and came up with these. It's all about advertising and these particularly annoying or confounding ads popped up in New Mexico. Do you ever come across ads which simply hit you the wrong way? And do you ever wonder if they did that on purpose?
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This one REALLY grates on me. Maybe it's the message that this woman equates the ultimate proof of love with what material fluff a man can buy her. Whatever it is, I just want to catch Ms. Bad-smell-under-her-Nose bending over and plant a good and pointy-toed boot in her fanny SOOOO badly. Is it just me here? Too bad the image scan lost some of that irritating, nearly snarling snottiness though.
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. Mark was naturally the one to first point out this very disconcerting mixed message above. Here is a very purpose-built device which could make a fellow squirm on a good day and right there in the middle of the ad is a photo of a very appealing young lady. We just didn't 'get it' so we consulted with our professional cattleman, Slim. "Woooo (wince), well, I sure see where you're coming from on that one (wince), no doubt about it. Well, all's I can figure here is that the company owner has that pretty young daughter there and decided to get the message out real subtle-like, you know, while still taking a write-off as advertising." Hey, he's our expert in cowboy affairs and it sure beat any of our possible explanations.
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Here, Lets Try This Then

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Apologies to all the rabid grammarians out there but I removed the contraction apostrophe in the post title (and might yet regret leaving the comma in). It appears to me that these things insert all sorts of unexpected html gibberish if you leave them in place in titles. And I am not in the mood for html hieroglyphs on a good day. It's just another ol' Sam Ludd thing, you see.
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Thanks to your moral support (I WILL remember those who were kindly) when I really needed it, I have come up with this blog plan for the summer:

After today's post, I will be back on the 27th of June and will try to post a story by every Friday thereafter until autumn. Since there are so many stories yet to be shared, these postings might run a little longer than the previous ones and cover several subjects. I know, this is a long interval between posts but a necessary one at the moment.
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Here are the remnants of the old log barn built in the early 1900s. It seemed more fitting to memorialize it in the colorless sepia tones of that era when things were so much harder, so much more demanding of effort to accomplish even the slightest task. Shovels, picks, axes, sweat, a strong back and a powerful stubbornness. Supplies from the outside normally brought in by tall-standing Model Ts with rigid suspensions and near-gossamer tires as time, fortune and technology moved on. But that breed of stone-tough people had arrived by horse-drawn wagon over tracks which were yet to be forged or civilized, had to build their own shelter from scratch in either blistering heat or the inescapable bite of winter. They had no health insurance, no pension, no social hammock to fall back on. They died in the normal course of working and giving life. But they were strong and vibrant with few expectations and appreciated every blessing from nature, fate and the accomplishments wrung from their own calloused hands. Where has the one hundred years hence really brought us? We now die older ... but not necessarily more content and more fulfilled. How do you think and feel on this subject?
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Giving Up the Blog Ghost

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Yes, I am thinking about hanging up the blog rake in the barn, at least for the summer. But first an update on the news at Rat Town.
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Slim's orphan calf, Bully Boy, is starting to look like a healthy calf of his age. Above is a photo taken a week ago. Not quite spunky but his eyes were starting to fill out again as he slowly rehydrated and recovered from malnutrition.

Just last night, Slim asked if he was going to have a heck of a time getting that calf away from me. I said "Well, Slim, I've got him halter broke, saddle broke and even starting dressage but, you know what?" "I can't imagine ... what?" "Well, it's obvious now that Bully Boy just isn't going to make it as my champion saddle bull. Sigh." "Now why you saying that?" "Slim, he's just not sprouting handlebars, know what I mean?" "I sure am sorry to hear that, yeah, it happens. I'll come take him home him then." "I knew you'd understand."
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Here is Bully Boy this morning after his morning bottle feeding which has become a ritual for the entire population of Rat Town. The cats now recognize this as their big outing of the day as soon as they see me fill the milk bottle and put on my long-sleeved shirt and rubber boots. They are already waiting impatiently at the rear door. The dogs are waiting just outside the door, knowing that there is a slight chance for a slurp from this super-sized baby bottle plus a chance to cavort legally with the calf. Somewhere in the middle of all this celebration, someone WILL step on one of my in-grown toenails and this seems to be an expected part of the troupe's merriment. And this was the first morning that the calf kicked up his heels and responded to the dog play. It told me that we had succeeded in bringing him back fully, such an incredibly warm feeling of accomplishment.
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Other news in brief: Mark is looking a bit better after that round of 'whatever that was' although still dreadfully fatigued. Slim is leaving the canyon this weekend with the last of his cattle and won't be back until early winter (serious bummer). The gas company which will be instrumental in our moving Rat Town up top was all 'hurry up and wait' which means that the monsoons may hit before their construction time schedule and the move may have to wait until next year. Which means that I will not have my creative life back until then (this aspect of treading water is getting REAL old). Sooo, all things considered, I am feeling a little uninspired at the moment. Which brings about my decision to stop making new blog entries for a while. Here are the other reasons:

With the exception of a very few family members and some kindly and encouraging souls I have met along the way, it doesn't appear that anyone has that much interest in reading about this particular subject, at least as I am capable of presenting it. That is despite an article in WSJ which talked about the looming energy crisis spawning a trend to go rural and self-sufficient. In other words, shit ... I couldn't make lemonade even after a tornado hit a lemon grove. Maybe I sound a little discouraged? You bet, especially after hearing friends talk about their million hits a month. According to my mother, I still wasn't talking much by age four. The kindly doctor told her that I was fine but just didn't have anything I felt was worth saying. I think I am going to head back to that philosophy for a while rather than talk largely to myself. I have a lot of planning and design work that I have been putting off in shameless and delinquent ways so it will feel great to get some of it done now.

With the doubling of fuel costs, the practical side of me says that I don't need to be burning daytime generator in order to keep up with both the blog AND my e-mails. It's starting to cost some serious money and wear on the generator to keep that pleasure up so it's time to reconsider the brutal economics of it.

Since a lot of my favorite blog friends have decided to put their own blogs on hold for the summer, it is as good a time as any for me to give it a try, too. I'm not saying that this is going to work any better than trying to ignore those big, gorgeous chocolate bars in the pantry but I am going to try any way. In the meantime, you are invited to read through the archives. Just start at the beginning since this IS a journal of our challenges and joys to date. If you have any questions, just ask. It was always my primary intent to encourage others (at least genuinely NICE others) to follow their dreams of settling into the countryside. It's a great life if you don't bring any city rudeness with you.
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The Parting Shot (humorous images sent in by Ken)
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Don't ever give up on pursuing the greener grass on the other side of the fence even though it can present some unexpected technical problems.
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Yep, this is what we experienced as we finally escaped a 15 year exile in Northern Ill-annoys to our new greener pasture. I like to think of this as God's way of saying "Never look back on that place and such people with any regret" and it has surely worked. If you are not one of the "What have you done for ME, ME, ME in the last five minutes" sort of folks, I hope you find your own greener pasture soon.
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Joys of Big Boys and Their Toys

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I'm just pacing and killing time until Mark returns to the canyon. It was to be one day of driving West and a day of driving back but he got sick last night while traveling, very sick; hasn't kept a thing down in his stomach for the last 24 hours. Was it a matter of catching the stomach flu or running into one of those killer sliced tomatoes ... who knows. But he is not a healthy or happy camper and he's now under strict orders from the Fuhrer of Worry to either stop at another motel for the night or, if he insists, head into the canyon without our usual supply stops. Pace, pace, pace ... no phone update yet.

I am posting this non-journal item in the interim to take my mind off of his well-being and whereabouts.
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Update (10:30PM): Our boy finally made it home and fell immediately into bed. The roughness of the dirt road had compelled him to stop several times to heave from an already barren stomach and he looked disturbingly ashen as he listlessly trudged over from the truck. Before dropping off to sleep, he expressed his great thankfulness to finally be home. Me, too!!! We'll see what tomorrow brings for him.

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I love watching any truly skilled craftsman at work whether it be a stone mason, a jeweler, a glass blower, it doesn't matter. But show me a heavy equipment operator with finesse and I could sit there spellbound for an entire day. Buddy John has sent me links to videos such as one showing how a skid steer operator loaded himself onto a tall flat bed without ramps that left me breathless but his latest series of photos tops even that performance. You will need to click on the image to see the details but it's only 250K and absolutely worth the download.

This is a back hoe operator in action. You're not going to believe what he does with his machine to get a job done. And here I am all thrilled if I manage to walk down the Rat's rickety stairs without falling on my butt. This fellow is a true master of his trade! And with more than just abs of steel.
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Petro Tour 03

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Since there were so many petroglyphs at this one site, I just couldn't resist sharing a few more with you before continuing on to the ruins.
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This one is so very old and worn but you can still see the faded shape of a figure. Notice the fine gravel and layers of sand in this sedimentary rock.
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Although not the most pronounced and best preserved, I think my favorite is this turkey which was etched in good proportion and great detail right down to his feathers. It is hard to say if he succumbed to an ice pick in the butt or if that symbol had been there earlier or added later.
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Brou intently analyzing the Spanish horsemen of the big panel.
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Cousin Colin intently analyzing another cache of carvings.
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Colin caught up and asked if I had seen that odd 'statue' back around the corner. "You mean the one that looks like a frog in a tri-corn hat and uniform from the 18th century?" "Yes! That one indeed!" and then we laughed about how two eccentric minds can think so alike.
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Now, before you go getting all fluttery about the deeply mystical and superior spiritual nature of these ancient inhabitants, let me bring you back down to earth a notch or two as did my very, uhm, unusual and unexpected guide at Mesa Verde. He had overheard an official park guide expounding in rapt New Age speak about the inhabitants and the great spiritual significance of their every structure. He continued on with a hint of disdain that the people were not that dissimilar from us, living largely in unremarkable and mundane ways for the most part. I have no reason to doubt him, especially given his curious nature. An example of the mundane is shown below.
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We came across this inviting niche in the rocks and I crawled inside. Quite the cozy and intimate setting really. It wasn't until I exited that I noticed this faint carving which I have blown up for you in the upper right hand corner. This was obviously some young man's little den of seduction and he indiscreetly carved a tribute to his conquest later. This might even be one of the earliest examples of a fellow asking a young lady in to see his etchings. The archaeologist we met 'up top' confirmed this notion, stating that they had found some doozies in the way of prehistoric 'guy' art. Caves or bathroom walls ... boys have always been boys and will likely remain that way for as long as the human race survives. Ya gotta love 'em!
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It's good to be back for a bit so comment away if you feel like it!
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Petro Tour 02

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More views from Wednesday's petroglyph tour:
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If you look closely at the enlarged versions of these images, you may find many different styles and subjects mingling on a single panel of rock and which might have been carved any where from A.D. 500 to the 20th century.
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. Certainly look like elk prints to me, especially given the rack on that dancer!
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.This is the left half of one large split rock panel. Notice the Navajo corn growing up from a lineal rain cloud.
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.Here is the right half of the large panel. White men on horseback appear on the scene. At the top, one such rider was lost to the frailty of the sand stone.
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An enjoyable hodge podge of feet and who knows what else. Below shows you its setting on the skirt of a sandstone giant.
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I'll be back in a few days with a quick glimpse of the lands these peoples chose to call home and some ruins they left behind.
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Petro Tour 01

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We took a drive down the canyons late this morning and found new petroglyphs to explore, ones which we had not seen for ourselves as yet either. Virgil had told us about these a year or two ago and they were well worth the drive to visit. I want to show you the highlights over the next couple of posts.

If the weather holds, Colin and Terry will head into Albuquerque tomorrow for a couple of days. The forecast doesn't mention rain but the winds are kicking up and rocking the Rat a little and the skies are a dull gray.
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It was a perfect day to explore; the lightly overcast skies kept the temperatures bearable and these delicate prickly pear cactus flowers were in bloom everywhere along the petroglyph trail.
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Your guess is as good as mine as far as interpretations so let's just walk along quietly and enjoy them.
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I'll be back with more in a couple of days!
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Don't have a Cow, Dude

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Sunday's plan was for Mark and Colin (me cuz from England) to take a tour of the rest of the ranch and the proposed Rat Town site, maybe wander as far as Slim's camp. But plans never remain solid out here for long.

Before they even left home, Slim had called and asked if they would roundup a small orphan calf which a gas field worker had noticed in Slim's far northern range. If he hadn't noticed this little stray, it would have died in a few days so big brownie points go to Chevron this week for having some conscientious employees out there.

The cows and their calves had been shipped home to Colorado from that range two weeks ago and this little fella had somehow become separated from his mother and left behind. He managed to evade predators on his own and survive without cow milk at remarkable odds. He was born so late in the season that he was even missed in the Spring round-up and branding.

Mark and Colin restricted their tour to sights on the mission route and headed straight home once they picked up this emaciated calf. They unloaded him into our corral from the back of the pick up truck. .
.With a stop at Slim's for milk replacer and a very large baby bottle plus Slim's instructions, Mark did his first surrogate mother job and the calf obliged like he was in the care of Dr. Doolittle. You can see curious Brou in the foreground and Daisy's brown nose sniffing frantically at the calf's rear ankles. They had both chased cows before but this was their first chance to meet such a small version.
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Both became comfortable with the whole arrangement and settled down to relax and enjoy, everyone except Brou who was now far more interested in having a turn at that milk bottle.
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Photo of a young sitting bull

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After the first bottle-feeding was managed, Colin devised a sun shade/shelter from a scrounged wall panel and a metal frame and the young bull calf found it immediately and gratefully followed its moving shade until the sun set.
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. The calf was less interested in the later feedings and Colin, who has long experience with dairy cattle, showed Mark the above method for forcing the issue and it worked very well. The little bull calf has a lot of weight and strength to recover and can't be missing feedings now just because he feels like it.

He will probably be going home to Slim's camp in a day or two and I will miss not having him around. Since Slim is dead set against us having anything to do with horses, I am very tempted to have him leave the calf here as my future 'saddle bull'. That'll teach him to put me off having saddle horses. Hmphhh!
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For the next week or two, I won't be able to answer comments as often as I have done in the past so I am disabling the comment option until I can catch up later with visiting and commenting over at your blogs as well; in other words, enjoy your mini comment vacation!!! We'll be back before you know it!
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