Nothing like a trip to dreary, dark New England to make me yearn for NM -- even if I do live in a ghetto shack. Good news: My house didn't get broken into, and I still see the charm and potential in it, beyond the wood paneling and 1970's decor. There's enough fake wood in this house to build a village. For midgets. (Rather, there was b/f I sledged most of it outta here.) But, I confess: the huge, gold-swirled, stick-on-panel mirror on the dining room (soon to be library) wall is kinda growing on me. (Narcissism, obviously.)
My joy at returning home was buzkilled by the newly broken furnace. And did I mention it snowed? Yeah, it's f'ing cold here. Eyeball-freezing cold. I was so chilled I couldn't sleep, even with Pip nestled in my armpit. I fixed the furnace this morning (and, by some miracle, managed not to blow myself up), and again three more times...just today. The pilot keeps going out on its own, even after I shelled out $200 big ones last wk. to fix it. Go figure.
The cold killed my plants, too, but I'm trying for some indoor resuscitation. I'm just glad they weren't lifted, along w/ my Mexican string lights. I guess I took precautions for naught, out of paranoia. Feel like kind of a fool.
Also: Eastern people (beloveds aside, of course) are bitches! Rudeness abounds! I didn't notice it when I lived there, but, my god, there's truth in that stereotype. New Mexico is such a sanctuary of false security. There are nuclear weapons stored in the Sandia Mtns and surrounding areas, but people are friendly and generous (SO generous!) and kind. It feels like an innocent place, despite the dereliction.