Years ago, the first time I lived in Albuquerque, I took a class and learned how to make pysanky*, Ukrainian Easter eggs.
This was back in the days before Hobby Lobby. I’d noticed a small craft store on San Mateo, between the wig shop and the scuba shop, or maybe the craft shop used to be where the scuba shop is now.
Anyway, that was a long time ago and the shop is long gone now, but they held unusual classes, such as the Ukrainian egg decoration. I signed up.
Have you ever dreamed the same thing over and over again?
Many of my dreams include houses. I used to dream repeatedly about a two-story house with a center staircase. Though I haven’t dreamed about it lately, it’s still very vivid in my mind and I wonder if it actually exists somewhere.
I’ve also had this dream before, the one about mail. The setting is usually different, but the result is the same.
A few weeks ago, I joined a new (to me) group called She’s Wanderful.
She’s Wanderful is an “international membership community of independent, adventurous, globally minded women who travel,” says their website. Ding! Ticks every box for me.
They have chapters, events, and trips. Far as I can tell, I’m the only person in New Mexico who has signed up, so at the moment, there are no regular events or meetings near me, but I have signed up to be a Wanderful hostess.
With the upcoming ban on using laptops and tablets on flights to the US from 56 routes, I’ve heard many laments and questions about how to pass the time on long flights.
In a online group, I saw the question posed, “What do I do with my 4-year old on our 12-hour flight?”
Keeping young children busy on a long flight is a real challenge for parents. Back in the Dark Ages, pre-computer days, when I used to fly with Phillip, I always went shopping ahead of time. In the carry-on, I packed his favorite snacks, books both familiar and new, and a special grab bag of never-before-seen (or played with) items that I’d bought especially for the trip. Little items picked up at the dollar store could entertain my hyperactive child for a long time.
Adulting is so tedious. And I find myself with so many “adult” things on my To-Do list.
There’s paying the car insurance that is due on March 12. Thanks to an encounter with a motorcyclist that was driving in the bicycle lane, my auto insurance is now $300/year more expensive than last year.
It wasn’t even my fault. How did I know that he was going to try to dash around me in the bike lane just as I was attempting to make a right-hand turn out of a traffic jam?
Last week, I left Albuquerque to visit Texas and Oklahoma.
Instead of driving from Albuquerque to Oklahoma City, I had decided to fly to Dallas, rent a car, and go from there.
I spent one night in Dallas, where I met up with an old friend or, as we agreed sounded better, a friend I’ve known for a long time. We worked together years ago when I’d first graduated from college. She treated me to dinner and we enjoyed gabbing, catching up for several hours.
Almost five years ago, a video randomly showed up on my Facebook page. In it was a litter of newborn puppies from a nonprofit called Warrior Canine Connection. There were six of them, and they were called “Holly’s Half Dozen.”
I got hooked, watching those little Golden Retriever fluff balls. I watched the day that their names were chosen: Lucy, Grace, Ruby, Abby, Levi, and Penny. The WCC staff pulled the names out of bowl, from names suggested by their fans, the “Extreme Puppy Watchers.”
As a life-long learner, I enjoy being a scholar. Here in Albuquerque, the University of New Mexico offers continuing education classes in the summer, fall, and spring. I always look through their catalogue to see what’s available.
By trial and error, I’ve discovered that I do better with classes that are shorter, that only run for a few weeks or even are one-timers, like the UNM Writers’ Conference “From Start to Sales.” It’s an annual day-long seminar for writers.
It’s snowing here. Ever so lightly, but snowing. The sun’s trying to peek through, but the clouds are winning. I’m watching the fat flakes fall as I eat lentil soup, bought at the deli over on Nostrand. I will miss being able to walk a couple of blocks to the deli. And the grocery, the bagel place, the bank, the health food shop, the nail salon, the hipster coffee shop.
Next week, I’m going back to the Land of Enchantment, where it’s sunny 280+ days per year and you have to drive everywhere. I might call it a trade-off…if I were a sun-lover.
I have the best problem in the world. What’s good about it? I have many, many friends.
So what’s the problem? They’re scattered to the four winds.
Last week, I read an article about how difficult it is to say goodbye to friends. The article was referring to the life of an expat who was preparing for a move to a new location. The author was concerned about “losing friends” in the move.