First Snow

Last night, we got the first snow of winter. This morning, Tommy got up and took photos while I got ready for work.


Admittedly, I got a little grumpy when he photographed me scooping snow off the car instead of actually helping. Incidentally, this became the last snow picture taken this morning. . . but then he lovingly helped me scrape the car windows while I grumpified. (He demanded I add that last part.)

Anyhow, at 9:14 pm, the stuff is still comin' down. If the state of New Mexico is closed due to inclement weather tomorrow, you may just see some more snow photos. ;)

Re-enactment of the First Thanksgiving

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Tommy's family dressed up like Indians and danced around the table in a ceremonial celebration for the feast. Tommy played his flutes while wearing a loincloth around his neck (should have been a little lower.) His father sang traditional Johnny Cash chants. My family dressed up like pilgrims. (It was funny to see Corey in a bonnet and dress.) At first we were afraid and rounded up the wagons. Then we realized the savages were throwing corn cobs instead of arrows. So we decided to put the cobs in a pot and thus the feast began.


But seriously, this is how the day really looked. (Note Tommy, Mom, and Fil in the mirror.)


As we prepared our feast, from some deep valley in the mountains came wandering this fearsome wolf. As it smelled the turkey roasting, saliva dripped from her fangs. Snarling and growling she proceeded into our camp. Tommy, with his magical flute calmed the beast and taught her how to roll over. Thus, a new spirit had entered our community.


This is food prepared from the original recipes of that first Thanksgiving feast. Note the red chile enchiladas, a dish indigenous to New England.

Sugar Pie

Once upon a time, more than 10 years ago, I went over to my Grandma Lois's house to find her tending to a pan of something orange on the stove. It was a crisp autumn day, and with a grin, she explained that she was cooking pumpkin for a pie. "This is how Mama used to do it," she said, referring to my great grandmother, Lily May Winger. "And I just got a notion that I wanted to do it." She told me she wasn't really sure what she was doing, but she bought the pumpkin anyway, and memory seemed to guide her. Years later, I'm missing Grandma Lois, and a few weeks ago, I got the notion myself that I'd like to cook some pumpkin. I don't know what I'm doing, of course, but if all goes well, we should have a heck of a pumpkin pie come Thursday.


This, my friends, is a certified organic Sugar Pie pumpkin. It's supposed to be for baking. I bought it at the Santa Fe Farmer's Market.


Compared to a jack-o-lantern pumpkin, it's smaller and has fewer seeds.


Dang that rind was tough! (I skinned a knuckle cutting it up.) This is probably why someone once decided canned pumpkin would be a lot easier.


The pumpkin is now simmering on my stove. Stay tuned for the next exciting installment, in which I bake a Thanksgiving pie.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Tommy's paintings are now showing at our home-away-from-home, Santa Fe Baking Comany, at 504 W. Cordova Road. Personally, I think the artwork looks pretty cool on their bright yellow walls, and I REALLY felt at home there this morning as I ate my burrito combo since these paintings normally hang in our house. To top it off, we ran into our friends David and Marci and their toddler, Finn; fellow artist Stan; our ever-fashionable friend Stevie; and buddy Brian, who promised to take us out for pizza tonight. Then, to cap off a perfectly wonderful morning, we walked home in the New Mexico sun.