Roselyn, Master quilter

I often walk to Roselyn's place, filled with magnificent quilts: whimsical, bold, classic and free. The quilts she has made are of extraordinary quality. In design, in color. from one centimeter narrow pieces sown together to blocks of color. She also has done a quilt with grandmothers on motorcycles, quilts with an almost native American feel. She is a wonderful person, reads the New Yorker, loves Jazz, is kind and warm. Her home is cozy and warm, pleasant with books and CD's. Her son and grandchildren live nearby. They shop for groceries together since the nearest supermarket is 24 miles away. She is loyal to whom she is and that is wonderful!
My chip is full, so no pictures of the quilts for now....

For Tommy

There once was a little girl who heard a little boy cry. She didn't know why he cried, maybe there wasn't enough milk for both of them... And in time the little girl forgot the other voice.

Her mother never told her about that other voice. So she didn't know. Thus it didn't exist, thus she did not miss it. But then the other voice called out. He knew about her and longed to find her to be reunited with the older sister... The mother who adopted him had mentioned her.

Tommy has become a thoughtful man, who works through gentleness...

So a circle closes.

Indian Summer turned into cold nights with high winds

The nice Indian Summer is coming to an end. The weather is getting cold. People bundle up. Scarfs come out of the closet. Yet a long walk walk in the beautiful desert  still enchants. Doggy Dog could even be loose since there were no Coyotes nor snakes around.

Sadly my dear friends Cooper and Irene are leaving tomorrow morning and we probably wont see each other again  before more than a year is over. I hope all their plans come together that they find the people they need to be around and enjoy art and creativity. So maybe I can then go to New Mexico and stay for while in their new surroundings...

It is cold now: four blankets and a small dog kind of keeps me warm...

Living in two places makes the loss of people double. Some are really sick, others are really old. Some go on not withstanding. Others not so much. I guess I am a forever city girl longing for the desert beauty around here. Arrivals and leavings all is part of life and the excitement of living.

Indian Summer

The Indian Summer in Chloride is coming to an end. I have had an almost five week stretch of really nice weather. Yet now with high, cold winds I had to put an extra blanket on the bed. Luckily Doggy Dog is like a small hot water bottle... This means it is too cold for morning coffee with the guys. They talk about their projects, make fun and all bring their dogs. Thus D.D. follows John and Nadine's dog Otis around. The first time she saw him, she started following him. I guess it was love at first sight. If it stays cold, from tomorrow on we'll probably move into the Yesterday's. The guys may be tougher than I, but they don't like the harsh blowing wind too much.

I must thank a few people like Cooper and Irene for putting up with me, sharing time with me. I wish them luck on their adventures in New Mexico, and hope everything works out for them with the co-housing project, which certainly would be a good thing for two aging, very creative people. Yesterday they hosted a drumming circle! Fun and bringing together the drummers. Also Nadine, with whom I spend a nice morning and part of the afternoon in Kingman.

And Lauri, who is ebullient and fun. She and her husband have traveled a lot, lived for a while in Saudi Araby. I know people who were born in Chloride and have never been abroad. One of them is Leanne who is kind and sweet. And there is Lucette, she is from France but has made her home right next to the acres and acres of BLM land.

I have a sweet spot also for Roselyn who is a gifted quilter. When back home I'll try to find a small good sewing machine and try again to make a larger quilt. Looking at her work inspires me.

There is also Dale, who is not well and whom may not be around next year... What ever it will be, it will have been his own choice.

So many goodbyes... Some maybe definitive.

Leonard Cohen died yestderday

Chloride isn't giving me the essential nourishment that I need. So I scribble and write and hope to be productive and writing strong stuff.

Here, there is no Chelsea Hotel, but that isn't a good way of saying good bye to a place that has once nourished my soul. I seem not to find the free associations, or ironic language, the message strongly blending the self and introspection and the near profane, near liturgy of writing. Here near the ROUTE 66 I go on - but inspiration has been slow and low.

Here I live of the gift of friendship of many people here, the glimpses of their lives and the insight it provides. The good and the not so good and the courage to search out new shores or mountains. I see it in Nadine, in Coop and Irene and so I become a passenger of lives.

Sometimes I like life to be a bit more simple, without it becoming a boring life. So I'll be wearing just a little blue raincoat in the darkness of Leonard Cohen:

Fairwell Leonard Cohen
It is darker now!

Election blues

Sadly the election wasn't blue but turned out to be red, and yes Arizona is a red state. Watching the results coming at C 's & I's place each one of us wearing a blue dot made it not less hard to see how Trump would be winning. After I went home to the gas station I kept the radio on the whole night and heard the troubling news that he indeed would be the next president. Chloride itself is also red and there are not enough democrats to reach a sensible balance. I hoped the glass ceiling would be shattered, but it seems we have to be patient for a couple of years more, before that happens. So we pussyfoot our comments and hope for the best.

I did see and like Hillary's concession speech and also Obama's thoughtful address to the nation. He is still a great president for the next four month's and then it will be Trump all the way for four years and then maybe four more years...

It is a sad day, but the people have spoken. White men afraid of change have spoken.

Never he will be my president.

Chloride autumn

It is lonely in Chloride. My friends Cooper and Irene are leaving soon for New Mexico. I will miss them just as I miss Nadine when she is up in Phoenix. Of course there still is the morning coffee and a few other people I  know well and enjoy being around. But with the cafés closed it is hard to find food one doesn't have to prepare oneself. Tomorrow 20 past 9,  Coop and I go into town for supplies. I think I'll be able to survive. I am also thinking about the end of my stay here with Doggy Dog. So I am here to the end of the month and need to make sure I keep entertained. My place is cleaned up, I have painted  the windows and doors of the gas station and even started on the back house windows and door and the porch. Maybe tomorrow I'll start working after the shopping spree in Kingman. 29 of November I'll sleep in Las Vegas on Tropicana avenue. I have an early flight so an early wake up call will be necessary. But I am looking for a few adventures before then.

My brother's visit

Tommy, the brother I didn't know I had came to visit me in Chloride, Arizona with his two wonderful daughters. He is a thoughtful man, smart and generous. He knew I existed and has been looking for me for years... It is strange to be of the same DNA and to be different because of growing up on different situations. We both in our rather different circumstances turned out all right. He brought a flash drive with the whole family tree dating back to the 15th century.

Since I didn't know he existed, I didn't miss him. But he knew of me. So he kind of has missed me all that time since he knew of me. We had a few nice days together, driving to Hualapai mountain where we had a light lunch and enjoyed the beautiful landscape. We were at a farmers market and saw the old town Kingman. We talked and listened. It was overwhelming but in a good way. And we rounded off the visit in the Damn bar steakhouse, the most cowboy place around with good and delicious food. The girls choose Nacho's brother and sister had steak!

 Since then we have spoken on the phone slowly getting used to hear each others voice.
Gratitude is in order.