New York to Albuquerque

It is possible to hit traffic on the Long Island Expressway at 4:30 am.

We did.

We boarded the plane on time despite it.

A stopover in Minneapolis and then onto New Mexico.

Ah New Mexico, brown and golden – sand but no beach.

My first trip across  the Rio Grande. Despite its name a scrawny river as rivers go -imo.

We have made it to the desert.  Tamaya Hyatt Resort to be exact,  ascetics we are not.

Desert? maybe – but our visit had its usual effect.  As soon as we peeled the long planride off our skins and slipped into one  of the series of sparkling pools- dark clouds gathered above- thunder rumbled and thick cold drops gathered jntensity as they soaked the few dry things we left on the lounges.

But we spent an hour or so with Barbara, from Missippi  (I don’t have an accent – you do – she  answered the woman who said she liked her accent)  Barbara won the trip to the Resort through her Tree Farm business .  While the rain drenched the resort beyond the shelter of her patio, we learned of the effect of Hurricane Katrina on the tree business, her grandfather and grandmother’s romance on the Island of Nevis, the unfortunate health condition  of most of her family and her travels across the U.S.  in a 33 foot recreational vehicle.

And we probably out talked her.

It was a long rain.

After dinner the rain stopped and we walked around the resort- picture of Eric and the bread ovens.

And now the sun has set completely, Eric is snoring loudly and I have been up for more than 20 hours.

So many things to do tomorrow.

Time to go to sleep.


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