New Mexico Dreamin’

I wrote a post in another blog almost a year ago today that turned out to be very close to a reality. We’d just come off the holidays and were trying to figure out where we wanted to be, what we wanted to do, and how in the heck we were going to do it. We were still in the stages of conceptualizing our dreams and didn’t really have any idea what might happen.
Little did we know…

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S and I were sitting and talking the other day and she asked me, “So, what’s your dream?” We were talking about houses; where to live, what that would look like, stuff like… you know… couches.
I closed my eyes and that vision that I’ve had, for so, so long, immediately popped up.
Open sky; light blue along the horizon with wisped, feather-like clouds pointing upward to a deep blue atmosphere. Mountains; craggily, jagged, steep-sided cliffs leading to a flat-top mesa of red and brown rock colored pinkish by the sun’s reflections. Brilliant colors made even more dramatic by the light yellow sea of desert grasses blowing softly on the plain that descends to the Rio Grande Valley. The river is hidden within the stands of cottonwood and aspen trees that line its banks creating a bright green and yellow slithering trail along the edge of the desert. Cone-topped volcanoes with their black, porous rock and Petroglyphs serve as a back-drop to the sun’s oranging illuminations.
The wind is soft and warm as it pushes the hair from my face. My hands, encased in dirt crusted leather work gloves, grip the roughness of the corral’s fence as I stretch my back while kicking the mud off my boots and watch the horses run to feed on alfalfa flakes thrown haphazardly into their feeder. The lines on my face are from laughter and crinkling my eyes against the sun. I’ve been riding and smell like horse. I like the way it smells on me.
Our home is a stones throw away from the corral and is a light pink adobe with a big porch jutting out in front of the bright blue front door. A Kiva log ladder that has brightly colored yellow and red bougainvilleas crawling toward the flat of the roof is placed against the house purposely, next to an old whiskey barrel filled with rainwater. A cat lies stretched out on the dusty ground watching me; her tail moves up and down and betrays her intent of not caring. She lunges to her feet as I make my way to the house. As soon as the door is opened she rushes into the kitchen and begins purring and rubbing up against the wall next to her bowl. The dog looks up from her lying place and wonders if she can have something to eat, too. I make no move toward the kitchen so she lies her head back down on her blanket but doesn’t take her eyes off of me… just in case.
The kitchen is brightly colored in Mexican tile, Saltillo floors, chile ristras, cobalt blue glass plates, cups, bowls, and a copper basket filled with fruit hangs from the ceiling. The doorways are rounded and each room is open and inviting. The warmth of the room, a Kiva fireplace, sits rounded in a corner while pinon burns like incense inviting calm. Big, cozy, over-stuffed brown leather couches anchor the room. The textured walls are covered with Native American rugs, black and white photographs of the landscape, the kids, horses, dogs, cats, and interesting architectural structures. Rusted barbed-wire art is tastefully placed between each photograph. Colorfully painted shelves, plant holders, and bookshelves are placed around the edges of the room. No doubt… there is dust everywhere… just don’t look too closely.
In the evening, the sunset creeps through the windows, illuminating the room in the same color as the mountains: “Sandia” or watermelon…
The kids sit at the dining room table and giggle and play. Smells of corn tortillas, chicken and green chile, and lime waft through the house as we all wait on dinner…
*sigh*
I opened my eyes and gazed wistfully at S. She is smiling. “Sounds lovely. Let’s do that.”K… I’ll get right on that.
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Our house doesn’t exactly look like that but we love it almost the same. I really wanted to buy property where I could have horses but found out quickly that in order to be able to afford a house with horse property, we’d have to look outside of Albuquerque. I wasn’t willing to create a commute for either of us. We just spent three years commuting all over the Chicagoland area and were sick of it. We may not have our dream house but things have worked out well for us. We are very happy to be in the Land of Enchantment. We’ve been very fortunate to have been able to spend the last seven months exploring New Mexico. I lived here in the late 1980’s and have found that, although many things have changed, quite a lot has remained the same. 

One of the first things I did was take S and the kids to Los Cuates. This used to be one of my favorite restaurants in Albuquerque. I kept talking about it and talking about it until finally one day we stopped and had lunch. I swear I recognized some of the waitresses. The food, however, was not as good as I remembered. I wasn’t disappointed because I’ve had so much bad Mexican food along the way that it still tasted great to me. I chalked it up to memory actually being greater than reality and nothing is never the same again once you leave home.

 

And then I found out what happened to Los Cuates and it all started to make sense. Thank goodness I have a hairdresser who is a local and, of course, has the dirt on everyone and everything. He gave me the low-down (and then some) and told me about Dos Amigos. I decided to try it that very night. While we were driving to the restaurant, S and I were talking about Albuquerque and how different it is from season to season. I mentioned that I thought Albuquerque is really ugly in the winter. It’s brown and gray and there always seems to be a lingering brown inversion cloud parked in the sky. She, with her photographer’s eye, told me that she thought it was beautiful.

We walked into Dos Amigos and there was something vaguely familiar about it. I used to live on 5th St., downtown, and I could swear I had been in the building previously. As we were being seated, it hit me; the place used to be a Village Inn. The last time I’d been there, I had come for a visit and was having breakfast with my mom. I remember talking about how much I loved the change of scenery and how funny it was that I always greeted the Rio Grande River. I missed the Rio Grande terribly.

She said to me, “Oh, Albuquerque is ugly in the winter. It’s brown and gray and looks dirty.”

Ahhhh… there is the seed that was planted from her perspective of 30 years of living here, or lack thereof. I still agree with my mom that winter is not Albuquerque’s finest season. This year, and I’m blaming S and me for bringing Chicago weather with us; we’ve had an abundance of snow days mixed with beautiful weather. There have been brown, gray, dirty days since we’ve been here but every time I drive down Golf Course Rd., I am stunned by the beauty of the city.

I think it’s important to have goals and even more important to incorporate those goals into your dreams. As I look back, I am amazed at what we have accomplished.

And, yes, we got those new couches.

Photo courtesy of Photography by Solaria.