Wednesday, April 18, 2012

TIME IS FLEETING.

Closer to leaving Murphys and joining Jim gives me pause to realize how much and how little I got accomplished in my time at home. I didn’t catch up with everyone I wanted to see or everything I wanted to do. Yet, I finished some complicated projects. There is never enough time in our hurried lives. It makes sense to stop and smell the roses.

I took time out to have friends for dinner. We call Paul, The Famous Paul Moeller, because he is known by everyone in the county. He has videotaped every event to the tune of 3 shows a week since 1983. Unstoppable, at 84, we know he has to slow down, but doesn’t. And Pam Quyle, hard-working, involved with everything that is art. She has been in this county the longest, from childhood. She is owner of Quyle Kilns, and meets people from everywhere in the world on their way to Big Trees. She educates everyone who walks in her shop and has this unlimited memory of everyone in the county, especially connected to the old-time families. Always finding a home for someone who needs a place to stay because she has this big  heart and  fields  a steady stream of people  in need of help.

And Margo, the most popular and well-known woman in Murphys. You can’t walk down the street with her because she gets stopped too many times. Everybody knows Margo. She pours wine for Chatom Vineyards and has as many local friends as out-of-town friends, and many from other countries. She speaks German, French and English.  She doesn’t have to work and keeps planning a second retirement.  Chatom doesn’t want her to leave.

I promised cactus to anyone who wants a piece, so Pam took my picture hacking off a hunk for Margo who loves cactus. Still more than half of it to go. Any takers?
As I look at my pictures these past couple weeks from the new camera, they seem mushy and over bright. Slightly out of focus. I’ve got to test it and see if I can discover the problem before the  warranty is up.  And, I ordered plane  tickets for my return to New Mexico , and now the things undone loom larger.  Still, can’t forget the  roses.

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