“Las Cruces resident Karla Barela, 38, places red chile pork on the corn husks containing masa to make tamales Saturday at El Indio Tortilla Shop. Barela started making tamales at 4 a.m. and continued to make them at 12:30 p.m. (Photos by Richard Davis / For the Las Cruces Sun-News)”
At the end of the article, Karla sums it all up:
“Without tamales…it wouldn’t be Christmas.”
Amen
When I look inside my head, as I usually do about this time of day, and ask myself “what would I like to blog about today?” I often see many colorful suggestions, images and ideas pop to the forefront.
Sure, many of the suggestions that my monkey mind puts forth are so capricious they become either not appropriate or too complicated to write about in about 500 words, on average. But I can usually find one gem among the rubble and bring that to you, every weekday, on my blog.
Today, on my walk over to the cafeteria to grab a salad and rush back to my office in time for another conference call, when I turned inward for a good blog idea, what I got, instead of colorful confetti and suggestions of “poop!,” was resoundingly gray. Quiet. Lonesome.
As gray as the cubicle walls that line my office building.
As quiet as the dark winter clouds that have gathered over the Bay Area to lie down and weep cold rain on our heads.
As lonesome as New Mexico state highway 285 between Vaughan and Roswell.
When I looked inward, I discovered that my brain hurts.
For every company that’s ever employed me, December has always been a busy month. My current employer is no exception.
At five months into my new gig, I really like it a lot, and as I’ve begun to hit my stride, I have discovered that cute little word “global” in my title means my days begin in the UK, lunch with Sao Paulo, a quick break for the US, afternoon tea with Australia, early evening snack with Hong Kong and I am put down to bed for the night with India.
All on the phone. All day long. The UK to India run encompasses about twelve hours of my day.
Then I wake up and do it all again.
While this probably sounds like complaining, it’s really not. My job is fascinating and fun and really good stuff.
But I am *tired*.
In the interest of my own health, I’ve begun working out again. Nothing major, Jazzercise a couple times a week and a sashay on the treadmill a couple other days a week.
I found I need that exercise to build up my stamina so I can sustain these long days at work.
But all that exercise wears me out too.
And my blog, my beautiful, wonderful blog. It’s suffering too. My goal of a post every weekday stands firm. Then I go and miss a day (like yesterday) and I’ve got to climb back out of the hole.
So all of these words (about 430 so far) are just my way of saying I don’t have much to say.
For today, anyway. That quiet, gray, lonesome mind only lasts for a little while. Then my severe latent childhood will kick in, and I’ll figure out how to write another post about poop.
You can count on that.
Artist Heather Gorham‘s interpretation of the monkey mind
Since I’m still in that obnoxious happy Holiday mood, I’ve been listening to my own mix tape of fave Christmas tunes in my car to and from work.
I don’t play them much at home. Not sure The Good Man would go for piping all my insane Xmas cheer into the house.
Aaaaanyhow, this morning I was listening to the George Strait song, “Christmastime in Texas” and the line “it might look just like a summer day” which, of course, made me think of Christmas in New Mexico. I think there was snow on Christmas just once when I was growing up, and that was all melted off by noon.
Christmas in New Mexico was more like sixty-five degrees and shorts and a tshirt to play with my new toys outside.
I’ve always loved all the standard Christmas tunes, but hey, to a New Mexico kid, they don’t really apply.
So I decided to tinker with some of the classics to give them more of a New Mexico vibe.
Here just a few, feel free to add your own!
______
“Up on a Housetop”
Up on a rooftop, stick stick stick, tar paper roof laid on too thick
“Walking in a Winter Wonderland”
Walking in a surprisingly summerlike wonderland
“Silent Night”
Silent night, holy HELL my neighbor’s yard decorations are bright
“White Christmas”
I’m dreaming of a red or green Christmas. Green please, with a fried egg on top. Pass the tamales. (whoops, lost the natural rhythm of the song there….thoughts of Christmas tamales will do that to me)
“Let it Snow”
Oh the weather outside is windy, and the weeds are very tumbly, and since we’ve no place to go, let it blow, let it blow, let it blow
“The Christmas Song”
Calf’s nuts roasting on an open fire, branding iron nipping at your flanks
(yeah, ok, so winter isn’t exactly branding season, but go with me here!)
“Jingle Bells”
Paper bags, paper bags, burning in my yard
“Frosty the Snowman”
Nobby the mud tires, on a very four wheel truck,
with a four on the floor and a headache rack,
and two headlights made out of halogen
__________
Ah, mud tires and a headache rack. Now that’s what Christmas means to me.
I just finished reading a book called “Riding Rockets: The Outrageous Tales of a Space Shuttle Astronaut.”
It is the biography of NASA Astronaut Mike Mullane, and it’s a pretty damn good book, not just because it’s about a kid who was raised in New Mexico (though many, many bonus points for that!), but because Mullane gets down to the nitty gritty details about what it was like to ride NASA’s Space Shuttle on three separate occasions.
Add to all of that, I personally think “Riding Rockets” is a fantastic title.
Which got me thinking…if I was going to write up the story of my life so far, what in the blazes would I call such a tome?
Tell you what…let’s brainstorm together, shall we?
Here we go…let me clear my mind…remember no idea is too outrageous, all have merit.
If Loving Cheese is Wrong, I Don’t Want to Be Right: My Life from Velveeta to Camembert
Fart Jokes Are Always Funny: A Retrospective
Decision Points: Red or Green? (<== honestly, doesn't that truly sum up my life?)
Ain’t Got Sense Enough To Come In Out of The Rain: My life, and other things my father said
It’s 10:00am and I Already Ate My Lunch: The trials and tribulations of a perpetually hungry girl
Nina Karen: Wisdom of the Ages (<== I can include the time I let my toddler aged goddaughter grab onto an electric fence. Great moments of godparenting...)
I’m From New Mexico: You don’t look like you’re Mexican, so Find A Map @#$&hole
Mommy, Why Does California Act That Way: A New Mexican’s tales of living in the craziest state in the union
Whoops!: One woman’s life of “excuse me” for inappropriate bodily noises
The Audacity of Taking the Last Piece of Pie: One woman’s quest to become a better wife, except when there’s pie involved
I’ll keep working on it….
Cartoon from Noise to Signal by Rob Cottingham
I’ll send the angels to watch over you tonight
And you send them right back to me
A lonely road is a bodyguard
If we really want it to be
— From “Sleeping in Paris” by Rosanne Cash
Yesterday I climbed into the Jeep and went on a long overdue road trip, just me and my steel beast, 130 highway miles and lots and lots of thinking.
The reason for the trip was nothing earth shattering, just had to head up to the north side of Sacramento to attend some work related meetings.
Clocking in at just under three hours, it was a ghastly drive, not only because it lacks any sort of interesting things to see, but the stop and go traffic kept me on my toes most of the way.
I left plenty early to avoid commute traffic but had no luck. California’s Highway 80 is a busy road no matter what time of day.
As I drove, dodging other cars, stepping quickly on my brakes for yet another slowdown, stopping to pay the toll on the Carquinez Bridge, and cursing under my breath, I yearned for a different sort of road trip.
Growing up in New Mexico, the ability to hop in the car for the sole purpose of a long thoughtful drive was something I took advantage of every chance I got.
While living in Albuquerque, sometimes I’d gas up the car and drive to Soccoro, only to turn around and drive home.
I can’t lie to ya, Albuquerque to Soccoro isn’t a visually interesting drive either, but once out of the city limits, it’s a pretty easy road with hardly any traffic. I’d set the cruise control on 75, point ‘er south in a straight line and let my mind work out the problems of the day.
Straight roads and very little traffic produce a very fine form of therapy.
My all time favorite drive and think road, however, is Highway 28 in southern New Mexico. The stretch of road from Las Cruces to La Union and back includes canopy of pecan trees arcing over the road, arboreal arms to embrace and hold me safe in case I need to cry.
I got a lot of thinking taken care of on Highway 28.
Not so much on California’s highway 80. The thinking was more like, “uh, stopping again? Why? Oh please don’t slam into me!”
But still, it was a road trip and there is something beautiful about me, my decade old Jeep, shuffle on the iTunes and a problem to work out in my mind.
Oh, by the way, something else happened while out there on the road.
First, this occurred:
Shocking, isn’t it?
Then, from out of nowhere, this happened:
(No, mom, I wasn’t driving almost 80 while taking a photograph of my odometer. Why do you ask?)
It’s the first car I’ve ever owned from fresh off the lot to one hundred thousand miles. Sort of proud of my little Jeep.
And just because I’m feeling gratuitous, here’s a quad cam shot of the Bay Bridge (because the Golden Gate gets all the love).
(Click for full size)
Ok, I’m wandering off the point here. Let’s tie this whole thing together, and get back to where we began.
I discovered today that any road, even a commute time busy three lane highway in Northern California can be a lonely road.
And a lonely road is a bodyguard if we really want it to be.
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All photographs by Karen Fayeth, and taken with my iPhone 4. Bay Bridge shot from the QuadCamera app.