I think it's time to go to sleep.

It's one of those enjoyable autumn nights here in Iowa. It's about 51 degrees, a slight breeze blowing through the open windows. It's definitely a comfortable temp.

I can't stop yawning, but I just don't want to go to bed just yet.

First, I can't stop looking out my kitchen window, the one over the sink, facing east. See, the moon's out there right now, a waning gibbous, kinda bean shaped right now. Sometimes wispy clouds partially cover it, making it look like what Liv and I call a "Halloween Moon." For the moment, the clouds have floated away and it's just a kinda bean shaped moon.

Second, I'm homesick for my home in New Mexico. I think it started at dinner. I'd made some poblano corn chowder (using a Poblano Corn Chowder Starter from Williams-Sonoma), and some jalapeño chedder corn bread muffins.

The chowder was really smoky and had just a bit of spice to it, I guess from the roasted chiles. While it simmered on the stove, it smelled like a New Mexican kitchen should smell - smokey, spicy, like autumn. And then topped off with a garnish of applewood smoked bacon bits, some green onions, and a wedge of lime . . . I could've closed my eyes and imagined myself in my kitchen back in Alamogordo.

So I've been thinking about New Mexico ever since I started preparing dinner. Especially since I've also been sipping a glass of the BEST merlot I've ever tasted . . . a bottle I saved from . . . where else? New Mexico.

While I enjoy the cool weather here and the fall colors on the leaves, I miss the Sacramento Mountains. I think I will ALWAYS miss them. 

How can you not miss this view?!

Sacramento Mountains, looking south, Alamogordo, NM

Here's a view from my backyard.

Cool storm clouds, aren't they?

 And my New Mexico kitchen:

I dunno why, but I always seem to miss New Mexico when it's evening or nighttime, or when I'm really tired.

Land of Sunshine and Turquoise Skies

Patricia reminded me of Mesilla, NM today. And since we've had overcast, gloomy, threatening-to-rain weather here today in the land of green grass in east-central Iowa, I figured I'd reminisce a little about my time in Mesilla and all the sunshine the southwest gets.

There's a small sense of saudade today, but it's not too noticeable, and not too uncomfortable or sad. Why? I dunno. Maybe it's because it's gloomy out, and not that golden sunlight at sunset that always seems to make me miss my family, New Mexico, the Southwest - that sunlight I always associate with homesickness. 

Anyway . . . I can't remember the first time I went to Old Mesilla; it had to have been with my grandparents.

I do, however, remember visiting Mesilla a few times when I was old enough to remember (in high school and college) - once with my grandparents, U.H., maybe my parents and siblings . . . another time with my grandparents, Naná, and her grandson. I'm pretty sure there were other times with my grandparents and Naná, again, and Aunt Lily.

They always liked going to the Double Eagle restaurant for lunch, but on occasion, I got them to go to La Posta for lunch, instead. Probably because there was too long a wait at the Double Eagle.

Then there was the first time with Andrew, when we were stationed in the Greater Boston area, and had visited my grandparents in El Paso for Easter. Andrew and I wanted to take my grandparents, but they insisted they were going to stay home and take a nap. So Andrew and I went by ourselves.

I remember taking our time browsing around, checking out the Basilica of San Albino, looking through the little stores around the plaza, getting a treat from Stahmanns Pecans (and some to take back to Oma and Sir Rafa), and getting some wine from a local winery (I think it was a margarita-flavored wine).


After that first trip Andrew and I took at Easter, we ended up going each year at Easter time - while we were stationed in the Boston area before Livie was born, that is.

Here are just a few photos from our April 2004 trip:

Andrew's in front of the Basilica of San Albino.

Andrew's in the plaza, next to the sign telling of Mesilla's history.

Here he is, posing in the plaza.

Here's Mesilla's post office.

And again, here is the Basilica of San Albino.

And then when we were stationed in Alamogordo, NM, we were so close, that there was no reason not to visit. But Andrew was deployed the first few months Livie and I were there, and I wasn't in the mood to take a baby to Mesilla by myself. 

So I used the time Andrew was deployed to take Livie to El Paso so she could visit her bisabuelos - her great-grandparents.

But the last weekend the three of us spent in New Mexico before moving to Iowa (August 2007) - we spent a lot of time in Mesilla and El Paso. It was so hot. Wow, was it ever hot. And I'm certainly glad there was very little humidity!

There was some sort of arts festival going on around the plaza. I'd ended up buying a couple artsy photos (one of Mesilla and one of Tucson) before we headed indoors to eat lunch at La Posta. The restaurant's cool air was refreshing. But Livie's face remained flushed for most of the day!

We're checking out San Albino.

We're taking a photo opportunity in the plaza.

We're waiting for lunch at La Posta.

Liv loved the parrots they had in there, as well as the fish tank.

Of course, the lights on the trees were a big hit with her, too.

I don't remember exactly where in Mesilla this photo was taken.I'm thinking it's outside near La Posta.

Lounging in the guest bedroom at Oma's house, we're cooling off from our adventure in Mesilla. Yes, I had to change Livie's outfit for one reason or another.

I'm glad I can say that Livie has been to Mesilla, though she was too little to remember. Maybe one day we'll get there again. Because I was enchanted by the Land of Enchantment, and to some extent, so was Andrew. It would be nice to give Livie the opportunity to love the land that I feel is "home" - the Southwest.

This is how we spent our Saturday afternoon.

Yesterday we went down to Swisher, IA for lunch at Káva House & Café in Swisher, IA. It was a cute, little place in a small little Iowa town. 

And it was pretty delish, too. I'd chosen the half a sandwich and cup of soup: the "Granny Gobbler" sandwich and Chicken and Wild Rice soup. The "Granny Gobbler" sandwich had shaved, smoked turkey piled on, thin slices of Granny Smith apples, Havarti cheese, and apple butter. The soup was served in a teacup. It was SO good, with the apple and apple butter giving it a crisp, sweet tartness to the salty turkey. I keep thinking about that sandwich. 

I also had a caramel Italian soda (carbonated water, caramel-flavored syrup, and half & half). Tasty. It tasted like cream soda, which I guess it was, right?

Livie had a grilled cheese sandwich, but wasn't too hungry, having just woken up from a nap. She did devour her fruit, though. 

Then we headed to The Secret Cellar (also see my previous post about The Secret Cellar as well as my examiner.com article on it.)

Livie had a blast looking around. And Andrew and I had a couple small tastes of wine (each taste was about 2 sips each). Then we headed out back where Livie ran around and jumped on the hammock. This was the highlight of her day. 

Check out how much fun Liv had on the hammock:

Looks fun, doesn't it?!

It was fun!

On Wednesday, I spent time in a small Iowa town called Shueyville (population in July 2007: 281). But it was fun! Wanna know why?

I went to this really cute little wine shop called The Secret Cellar and spent about an hour there. Okay, so I was there to do "research" for an article I wanted to write. But it was such a cute place, and the owner, Lauren Cannon, was so nice, it was like going on a fun field trip.

Here's her stained-glass sign at the entrance:

 Here's the cute blue house where she's set up shop:

I love the purple beginning to bloom on this little tree:

She had all sorts of wines, some of which were from local Iowa wineries (yes, apparently Iowa has wineries!) and from across the nation and around the world (like the German eiswein or "ice wine" in English which she sold to the customers who stopped in while I was there). There were even those big bottles of wine - those 1.5 liter bottles (I guess it's called a "magnum" and it holds the equivalent of two regular sized wine bottles).

And she had these bottles of wine that were shaped like a high-heeled shoe and others that were shaped like some exotic bird!

Shoe bottle:

Bird bottle and shoe bottle:

Big bottle (this is actually a 5L-sized bottle!! That's good for mom's night with the ladies):

Not only did she have wine, she also had other liquors, beer and tasty foods. Some of it was gourmet food and from the local area, like the pickled asparagus from the Amana Colonies. There were chocolates, soup mixes, stuff for appetizers, tasty gourmet cheeses and crackers. And she even had little candies and sodas for kids . . . like the kids she says stop by her shop after school to pick up snacks on their way home.

Some of the liquors she has on hand:

Some of the food and treats she has in the store:

Then there were the gifts - she had a lot of great gifts, like shirts with bling which shaped wine glasses and said "Wines Constantly" or the soy-based candles from the mom-owned company here in the Cedar Rapids area.

Here's the cute bling shirt (there was a matching hat, too - not shown here):

Here's a floor mat (cute, huh?):

There's even wine bottle jewelry - how cute is this?!

Here are some other gifts, including the soy candles (seen in the middle of the photo):

Some of the candles (they're all white) came in cute scents, like "XOXO" or "High Maintenance" or "Bitch." There was even one called "The Secret Cellar" made for this shop. Lauren was burning one of these "The Secret Cellar" scented candles while I was there. It smelled good. Fruity/flowery.

Oh, and she does these custom gift baskets for any occasion like Mother's Day, birthdays, anniversaries, and such. She puts great stuff in it, like: chocolates, a bottle of wine, a candle, bottle jewelry, some gourmet treats. And sometimes she'll even put in a gift certificate for a massage, where the masseuse will go to your house to give you a massage!!

Anyway, she has a lot of stuff going on there. For example, she's got this great party planned to kick of the season - on May 1st, she's having a "wine party" where there'll be plenty of wines to taste, cheeses and crackers, live music. She also does private wine tastings for groups, like for bridal showers and such. There's a great backyard, complete with hammock and "gazebo" to add to the ambiance. 

Doesn't this look like a great place to hang out with a glass of wine and some cheese and crackers? I think I'd like to read a book or take a nap here, though (on a cool day):

Isn't this cute? There's a grapevine theme going on. Can you see it?

So it was a lot of fun to go out there for "research." I would definitely like to go back to get a bottle of wine or two, and some cheeses and crackers.

Maybe for her next wine party, I can attend. Her first one coincides with the opening of the Downtown Des Moines Farmers' Market, and we already planned on going to that, so we'll be 120 miles away when she has her first wine party.

Looks like a fun place, doesn't it?!

It's Too Soon to *Have* to Write Another One, but Here it Goes

This is for H.A.T.

Uncle, I wasn't expecting to write another one of these so soon (having written one last year for my grandfather), but here it is - my fondest memories of you. And since I feel like I'm now the official storyteller, the family wordsmith, I think this will be an appropriate way to remember you, with stories I want to share.

In the morning when I'm getting my coffee fix, I will think of you, since I know you enjoy your morning cup of java as much as, if not more than, the next guy. We've even had discussions about coffee, and how perhaps Oma's was good because it was Oma's coffee in Oma's kitchen, but it was not as strong as you and I were accustomed to drinking in our respective homes, or in our offices . . .wherever it was that we drank our cup(s) of joe. Oma's coffee, though, went well with her huevos con chorizo, or even her pecan pancakes. And it went well with the company we kept back in the day on Mountain Walk Drive.

I sent you a coffee mug with a special photo on it - one of you and Baby Olivia while she was still a little thing, a gummy smile on her face before her teeth started coming in. You appreciated it and said it was one of your favorite mugs (if not THE favorite one). I sent it to you because of your coffee habit, and because it was a great photo of a great-uncle and his great-niece.

It is such a great photo of the two of you at Oma's house - it's a good pic to look at - to think of you with big smiles.

I love imagining the story about the "Scare in the Moonlight on Blue Ridge." You know the story. Long ago in El Paso, you and a buddy were hiding in the bushes in the moonlight when my mother got home from her nursing shift at the hospital. You thought you'd startle her and that it would be funny, right? But when she let out a scream, it scared you more than you expected; you'd planned on startling her . . . and then my grandparents came running out, scaring you even more. Not what you expected, was it?! Sure, my grandparents were very upset with you, especially Oma. As a matter of fact, you were not allowed to go back to your buddy's house to spend the night, she was so angry.

Yet, this is one story that makes Oma laugh hysterically - after so many years, she thinks of how you were so scared, your face was pale in the moonlight; while she was mad at you then, the memory of your face in the moonlight has become hysterically funny to her. She laughs so hard recalling this story, it makes me laugh uncontrollably. When I last asked you to retell the story to me yet again, you simply said, "Let's not discuss it anymore," with a sly smile on your face.

I know you said let's not discuss it anymore, but I will tell this story to Livie one day. It's good to keep the family stories going forward.  I know you would agree with me, even though this is one story you want hush-hush. And I will have to tell Marissa, too.

Maybe a day in the future, I'll have Olivia and Marissa with me, and I'll tell them about you, something especially funny. Like the time we were at my parents' house on Casady Drive. You were on the treadmill in the den. I was in there watching TV. You were running, deciding to take off your sweatshirt. But you didn't stop the treadmill. It didn't stop, but your feet MUST have - just for a moment as you took the sweatshirt over your head. Suddenly, whoosh . . . boom! You've been thrown against the back wall. We look at each other. With a sheepish grin, you say "Oops!" and give a laugh.

THAT is funny stuff that can't be made up. I know you think it's funny now. We laughed about it recently. It's stuff for me to remember to tell your great-nieces. Hopefully it will be as funny to them as it was to the two of us.

Speaking of laughing, remember the time when you and I were in El Paso at the same time and we watched an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie with Sir Rafa? It was Junior - the one where the Governator's character becomes pregnant and gives birth to a healthy baby. Remember that? Sir Rafa laughed so much, it made the movie that much more fun to watch. Especially when he loved that line the Governator says - something to the effect of "It's my body, my choice." Fun times.

Then there was that time we rented Dona Flor e Seus Dois Maridos . . . we were expecting to see that classic Brazilian movie in its original form, but little did we know it was dubbed in English. Remember how the voice of Flor didn't match her character? A good flick, but not quite so good in English as in its original Brazilian Portuguese. And then we were worried that Oma would come in - though it is a definite classic from the mid-'70s, it wasn't exactly along the lines of an appropriate "Oma" movie.

We've got so many memories from El Paso, don't we Uncle? Remember the time we were there for Thanksgiving, and Christine was with us, too? We had an awesome, traditional Thanksgiving dinner, complete with Oma's famous stuffing. To complete the whole turkey day experience, you, Christine, and I went to the Thanksgiving Day parade in the rain. Remember that? I know Christine does. She and I talked about it recently, trying to keep these awesome memories fresh.

That same weekend, the three of us headed to Juarez on the Border Jumper Trolley from downtown El Paso. We had fun being "tourists" that day and ate lunch at some Froggy chain restaurant. Christine recently asked me if I remembered the strength of the margaritas, to which I responded, "Oh, you mean the margarita-flavored tequila?" ;)

Again, that was another rainy day in El Paso over that same Thanksgiving weekend. I remember driving back to Oma's house in her little tan car, in the rain, with water rolling down the street. Oma was worried, but glad that I'd driven; she actually trusted my driving.

And since we're remembering a story including tequila, I have to admit: I think "Cin cin, Uncle," when I have a margarita or enjoy a shot of Patron Silver. It's good stuff and I know you enjoyed it.

Or the next time I open a bottle of my New Mexico wine - I'll do a "Cin cin for The Uncle." Andrew and I have already done a few toasts "For the Uncle," so it's already started. And with coffee, too.

So . . . on to more memories: I was looking through my address book the other day and was looking under the Ts. I saw your familiar handwriting, with your name, address, e-mail, and cell info written down. I stopped and smiled, realizing I had something written in your own hand in my possession.

In my cell phone, as I scrolled through the saved phone numbers, I saw the one labeled HAT. That number will never again be in service, but I can't seem to erase it out of my phone.

It'll remind me of you when I scroll through my phone. I will think of more stories when I see those initials.

Like the times we'd discuss Tony Hillerman's books, set in the southwest, our wonderful, beloved, bronze, dusty, turquoise-filled Southwest. And how Joe Leaphorn, the Legendary Lieutenant, didn't believe in coincidences. How there are no such things as coincidence.

I will think of one of the last communications we shared on Facebook. I'd told you I'd picked up Anne Hillerman's book Tony Hillerman's Landscape and how Tony himself had written the intro before he passed away. And you figured I'd already finished zipping through the book, signing off with your usual "UH".

Or the time I sent you an article about Tony, and you said it was a fine piece, and asked if it inspired me to write more? Yes, that's your way of telling me I am the storyteller. I have a lot of stories to tell. I will write them.

I'm just glad that over our final visit together in December, I was able to talk to you about The Hummingbird's Daughter, by Luis Alberto Urrea. You knew just what I meant, when I felt like I was actually a part of that story, I was IN the story, I was experiencing it firsthand. The tortillas, the huevos con chorizo, the scents, sights, sounds, the feelings. I was enveloped in that story, and it was like home. And you knew just what I meant when I explained how I was swallowed whole by that story. Now that is what a story is supposed to do. What I also feel about all those Hillerman novels I've read and loved . . . like I've met the Legendary Lieutenant, or Jim Chee, the Navajo Tribal Police Officer who is also a shaman-in-training.

And I will think of you when I write my own stories of the Southwest and aim to evoke those same feelings into a new set of readers - that they may feel a part of my stories, as though I'm writing their own personal stories, through their own eyes. I'm sure I'll have stories set in other locations; I have lived in so many other places. But like the state motto says, I was definitely enchanted by "The Land of Enchantment." I will write something about New Mexico, my home for a mere year, and your home for decades, the place that captured me with beautiful landscapes, the way it did for Tony Hillerman so long ago.

The Southwest as a whole, including El Paso, Tucson, Vegas . . . I love it all. I will have to find a way to include it all.The places I love, as well as the family we must remember and keep close.

I will be The Storyteller, Uncle. I will. Not to worry about that. I have lots of words in my little gray cells, and I love using them, lots of them - words, that is. And little gray cells, too.

Ate logou, Tio.