Snow was forecast to celebrate my arrival and I eagerly watched for the white landscape out the airplane window.  Alas, a rusty brown haze covered the city of Albuquerque and the Rio Grande River.  While I was pondering this, we began our approach to land and I could have sworn the pilot was hotdogging that big airplane around to show off for us.  Turns out that the haze was a dust storm … and we were landing in one hellacious wind!

Racing Tumbleweeds
The freeway through Albuquerque up over the pass to Santa Fe goes through a landscape that some may think bleak; not I.  However, it took on new dimensions in the wind  – the brown dusty haze crept through the windows somehow and turned my water bottle muddy!  It was hard to hold my Jeepster on the road!  Cars were carefully hugging the right lane and tumbleweeds had the right-of-way.  In fact, at about 60 mph, I saw airborne tumbleweeds shooting past my car!

Somewhere in the Santa Domingo Reservation, I saw wild horses running in the wind.  They appeared to be racing the tumbleweeds down a sandy draw!  Manes and tails were wildly flying, and they were tossing their heads, rearing up — and then running on.  Were they afraid of the wind?  I don’t think so.  Perhaps they felt challenged by a greater force and were rising to the challenge of keeping up with the wind and tumbleweeds across the desert landscape.

Changes:  The Plaza Cafe has Burned Down!
How did I not know this?   It has been there since the early 1900s.  My father ate breakfast there, as did my great aunties!  This picture was made in 1947 (I was one year old) — perhaps I came here with my father as a little girl?

I loved going to the Plaza Cafe with my friend, Robert Naranjo — he knew everyone and was always the center of attention, with his long braids and dark skin.

It was so easy to blend in with the crowd there, sitting at a counter stool and rotating around like a little kid to watch the people.  I feel lost without it!

Consolation by MariLee
She is the evening innkeeper at the hacienda now.   As we are talking about the changes in Santa Fe and I am lamenting the loss of the Plaza Cafe, I am munching some of the “Corn Dip” that she has set out on the sideboard for ‘social hour’.  Alas, (as Carolyn puts it) Draconian NM laws have prevented the hacienda from serving wine with snacks at eventide now.  (Must be Democrats or Communists.)  But the pinon fire and MariLee’s dip fill the gap.

To call this “Corn Dip” is sadly lacking, somehow.  The name needs embellishment to suit the marvy flavors.  I would make it like this:  corn fresh-cut from the cobb, chopped green chiles, chopped green onions — blend into sour cream.  Season with ground comino.  Serve with hearty corn chips that will not break when you load them up!

Santa Fe is like home to me.
So much art for inspiration.
Such marvelous scents from the roasting chilies and pinon fires.
Great crunchy snow and crispy air.
Brilliant blue skies.
Going there soon …