THE ST. PATRICKS WE CELEBRATE.

Evicting  an Irish family from their home.
… Oh it’s well I do remember, that bleak
December day,
The landlord and the sheriff came, to drive
Us all away
They set my roof on fire, with their cursed
English spleen
And that’s another reason why I left old
Skibbereen.
When I was a kid, when asked my nationality, I always said Irish. My French mother would wryly comment, “You could be an eighth Irish and seven eighths something else, but you’re always Irish. I wonder why that is? ”   I’m more than an eighth Irish, but I’m half French, and she had a point. I think it’s because the Irish  suffered horrible deprivation in the midst of plenty. To escape they immigrated in great numbers to countries around the world.  There are more Irish in America, Australia, South America etc. than there are in Ireland.  I was unaware of that when we got our first television set in 1957 and I loved those old English romantic and heroic movies with Jean Simmons and Stewart Granger, etc. If my dad caught me watching one, he’d flip the television off. “Don’t be watchin’ all that aggrandizement of Cousin Jack.”
An interesting take on neglecting the pain of Irish history is given by Bill Bigelow writing for Common Dreams at the link below:
http://www.commondreams.org/view/2012/03/15-4
You can read the article at the link above from which comes the eviction ditty, and  here are some excerpts from his piece:
What is not often taught in schools or known by the many who routinely celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, is that throughout the Irish ‘Potato famine’ there was an abundance of food produced in Ireland, yet the landlords exported it to markets abroad. The landlords were English.
“Ireland’s was surely the biggest experiment in monoculture ever attempted and surely the most convincing proof of its folly.” But if only this one variety of potato, the Lumper, failed, and other crops thrived, why did people starve? Thomas Gallagher points out in Paddy’s Lament, that during the first winter of famine, 1846-47, as perhaps 400,000 Irish peasants starved, landlords exported 17 million pounds sterling worth of grain, cattle, pigs, flour, eggs, and poultry — food that could have prevented those deaths.”  In the end over a million Irish starved to death.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Famine_%28Ireland%29
Ahh, the examples of man’s inhumanity to man are so numerous, even today,  it sickens hardy souls.

On a more cheerful note, my little town of Murphys celebrates their Irish heritage with a festival of booths, food, music and a parade. Downtown was a sea of umbrellas when I got there at 10:00. The parade wasn’t set to begin until 11:00.

In the booths, people were cooking with their coats on.

Dodging raindrops, I opted to skip the parade and head for home.

It began to snow huge, wet flakes, some as big as golf balls.  Safe inside, the smell of  corned beef in the crock pot greeted me nose.

Later, my neighbors joined me for corned beef and cabbage,  colcannon,  soda bread and a variety of  craft beers. I fittingly chose an oatmeal stout.  Pretty good stuff for simple fare.

I needed some time off from my “catch-up” chores anyway,  and ’twas gladness ta be injoying a hand of  Rummikub with our grog.

CHANCE ENCOUNTER IN DEMING.

Jim’s long time friend, who chooses to remain anonymous, introduced us to her two best friends, Mary Berg and Pat McKay.  Mary is a psychic and does individual readings. Once she was asked to help the local police department on a case of theirs. She is an upbeat, interesting woman to talk too.
Pat McKay, is the former wife of  Buck Duane Walker,  who murdered Muff and Mack Graham,  a couple living on their sailboat on the Island of Palmyra. Palmyra  is  located off the coast of Hawaii. It was a sensational case when it happened in the 1960′s and the book, The Sea Shall Tell,  was written about the event, and the capture and trial of Buck’s girlfriends,  Stephanie.   Pat was married to Buck for ten years, and knew him for 40 years.  He was a mesmerizing, clever, self-educated man and a psychopath. She visited him in prison, got to know Stephanie after the murders,  and even had a strange tie to Muff and Mack Graham, the two murder victims. Pat's family knew Mack and introduced  her aunt to date Mack before he met Muff. The Graham’s lived aboard their boat sailing the world over in much the same way RVers live on wheels, moving from one destination to another.
Pat  was grateful it was not she who sailed to Palmyra with Buck Walker. The book  was written by Richard Henderson and the attorney, Vincent Bugliosi, who defended Stephanie.  It was later made into a movie by the same name. Pat claims it was really Henderson who wrote the book.  Jim became quite fascinated by this case because he discovered  that Buck Walker, while serving life in prison, wrote his version of the events that happened on the Island, using his father's name, Wesley Walker. Jim found his story interesting, well written and credible.
We enjoyed meeting Pat, and hearing about her interesting life.  She has written an as yet unpublished book about her life and how it intersected with the people who met their fate on the Island of Palmyra.   She met Jim’s friend while living in Mexico and they both moved to Deming.
It is interesting to meet someone who has a lot of  “inside”  information about the real life characters of a book you just chanced to read.  I can’t wait to read Pat’s book and will let you know on this blog when it is available. Sometimes you meet people who change your life. It was so for Pat McKay.

LAST DAYS IN DEMING.

This little desert ground squirrel was cavorting near the motor home just before I hauled my backpack out to the Bronco. It was leaving day for me, but Jim has friends in Deming I wanted to visit before I caught my train.

At the Hi Lo Ranch we spent a short fifteen minutes with Jim’s  long time friend Bob Gambol, who took his motor home to the Panama Canal and back with Jim and Bud Kuball in 2004.  Bob was just out of the hospital so we didn’t stay long.  Bob has  traveled  the world over with nothing but a back-pack, an interesting  story I’ll blog another day.

Jim agreed to supply lifetime pizza to a woman who edited his book on that 2004 trip to Central America and the Panama canal.  (She  prefers not to be named or pictured in our blog.)  Her little dog Pixie didn’t mind having her picture taken.

She took us to the Senior Center to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day with two of her closest friends, Mary Berg and Pat McKay.  Pat is a person Jim and I  specifically wanted to meet-more on that tomorrow.

Since we both love museums, we went to the Luna County Museum.  We arrived  late in the afternoon and the museum is huge. The collections and variety are among the best we’ve seen.  From  many beautiful china cabinets, how do you pick one item? I  like unusual  the tea pots.

An excellent gallery of beautiful paintings.

An excellent collection of home-made lace.

A hand cranked bell wheel caught my interest, but even more their extensive bell collection.

Three cases of bells, I estimated to hold 1000 bells in each case, with bells from all over the world.

One of three beautifully designed church pews.  I couldn’t take it all in. I expect to return to this museum some day. And, I will post more pictures I took as well.


From the museum we headed for the local Moose Club which just happens to be near the Amtrak kiosk. I changed into my traveling clothes  and we had a beer in the bar. And, doncha know, we ran into two women full-time RVers Jeannie and  Leah both from  the LOW’s, a Singles  RV  Club, Loners On Wheels.  Jim had met them in the past at various functions shared with his singles club, the WINS.  They thoroughly enjoy the lifestyle on the road and handle their own rigs. Single women on the road amaze me.

Jodie, (missed her last name)  came whisking through the bar and gave everybody a kiss both males and females.  She is a happy distant cousin of Jodie Foster and looks a bit like her as well.  Jim delcared, “Wow, this is the friendliest club I’ve been to.”  Truth to tell, we find many, many friendly people on the road with wonderful stories to tell.

AN AMTRAK COMEDIAN

One song leads to another
One friend to another
So, I’ll travel along
With a friend and a song…or maybe a comedian. I took a photo of Homer, Sandra and Issac, brothers and sister traveling from Phoenix to Bakersfield.  This was at the Los Angeles station before boarding a bus over the grapevine. Except, none of them should be smiling.  We’ve all had experiences where everything that could go wrong-did!  They discovered there are two airports in Phoenix after they arrived at the wrong one. The relative who left them at the airport had already departed. Getting a ride to the right airport, a traffic hold-up, missing the correct flight by minutes. Then, finding out since it was now minutes after the 24 hour time to cancel, “Sorry, no refund.”  Then renting a car and racing to nearby Maricopa to catch an Amtrak train and barely making it on board before the doors closed.  Ahhh, such are the joys of travel. Makes you want to eat nails. But..Issac kept us all in stitches through the nearly three-hour wait time in the Lobby. They offered me coffee, pretzels, chocolate, mints and gales of laughter.  Issac told me he heals everyday troubles by hugging his three-year old grandson. Laughter is healing and he took  the drudgery out of  my trip and theirs.

I’ve traveled from Northern California to Southern California on Amtrak many times and enjoyed the train.  I’ve seen this bird, or maybe another bird, that appears to live inside the station on popcorn and bread crumbs. I couldn’t get a good picture, but watching  birds anywhere gives me a lift.

Of course, I didn’t have to hang out my red panties to flag the train, or hang from  a mail hook, but the Amtrak stop at Deming is a simple kiosk. The train was almost an hour late. It made up the lost time across the vast stretches of desert and we arrived in Los Angeles on time.

On my first ever overnight on a train, I can report  the food was good, the attempt to sleep through the night was not very successful.  But, I was warm and none the worse for wear. As we were disembarking, I took a picture of Tanya, who was dressed all in fur from head to toe, tiredly clutching her guitar. She told me she is hoping to be a musician someday, she earns her living doing make up, and “I look younger than I am.” Sweet!
They say the best part of travel is  it reveals the value of home. I think the best part of travel is  the people you meet. On that subject, I’ll get back to my last days with Jim when I’m settled in.

RED PANTIES OR A MAIL HOOK.

Over the last week, from people who know the area, I’ve been getting the hee-haw about taking the train from Deming, NM.  As in:   “You’ll have to flag ‘em down with your red panties to get them to stop!”  And: “Shoot, they don’t stop, you just hang from a mail hook and they grab you as the train goes by.” And: “I’ve known the train to be late by SIX HOURS.  Bring a sleeping bag and a tent.”  Of course, I laugh and I’ve used AMTRAK many  times and love the train over flying. But, I’m calling this morning to ask what happens if I miss my connection because of a late train.  Hmmm!  I’ll keep you informed after I arrive in Murphys.

The Little Florida Mountain is yellow with poppies in bloom. Spring has arrived here at Rockhound State Park. The campground sits at the base of this mountain and the rocky ridge is a favorite hunting ground for geodes and thunder rocks. Campers are allowed to take 15 pounds of rock per person.

Opposite the Little Florida, across the valley is another mountain at sunrise, just as the sun is peeping over Little Florida and playing light and shadow.



But first, we stopped by the visitor’s center to see what kind of rocks to expect. We are not rock hounds, but we like to hike, enjoy spectacular views and I like to pick up pretty rocks.
While at the visitors center, great posters of  wildlife one might see in the park intrigued me. I’d never even heard of this beautiful desert quail.

Nor this one.

We started on the botanical garden trail, which leads up and up and up until you connect with the other trails leading to the ridge. All I saw in bloom besides the poppies was this cactus. Most of the barrels already bloomed and are dry.

This plant is just starting to bloom. I don’t know its name. It seems to be a type of ground cover.

Though steep, the trail up was easy to walk most of the way. The poppies were gorgeous, at times so bright in the sun it hurt your eyes to look at them.



And the views were spectacular.  (You can click on these photos to make them larger. Then press the back button so you don’t lose the page.)

Any one of these rocks would weigh 15 pounds or more. I hoped to find one of everything the center  displayed  in miniature, except geodes and thunder rocks.

The most common rock here is rhylite with variegated coloring. My strategy was to look near a big rock, for a smaller one of the same type. I didn’t find large jaspar or perlite or opal.  The ground in the washes is full of pebbles of all sizes and I’m sure I carried down 15 pounds of smaller stones.

I washed and sorted and threw most of them out the door. But, I found a bit of almost everything. All three colors of jaspar for sure. Some sparkling crystals on perlite and beautiful variegated rhylite and peach opal.

Even if I’m not a rock hound, I enjoyed the hike, the dig and I learned a bit about rocks. It was fun.

A  fitting end to a busy day and my current ramble, awash in a brilliant sunset.  After I get settled in, I’ll be blogging from home.

AFTER THE CABALGATA

After the Cabalgata, we followed the locals to the park where the smell of cooking food attracted hungry celebrants like us. The family walking in front of us are obviously from El Paso, Texas. We expect they have a father who rides in the Cabalgata.

Food booths surrounded the  park.  We passed on the chili burgers and found something delicious, without a name.

There was no sign, but the woman was filling some type of dough pocket with a filling of potatoes, onion, meat and peppers. Then adding fresh tomatoes, lettuce and red pepper sauce. They were delcious, but we only sampled. Later we bought a chili relleno burrito for me and a rojo  burrito for Jim. We went back for seconds. Lunch for the two of us, without drinks, $8.00, all home made. Can’t be beat.

The band set up and began to play music.

Young folklorico dancers giggled while they waited their turn.

While they dance, the younger girls watch and wait for their turn.

The faces are worried. For some of them their first time “on stage”, perhaps.


Light weight costumes barely protect them from the wind.
Then they realize how much fun it is. Click the short video below to watch them dance:
http://youtu.be/cuKO4uHE5MQ

Now that it is over, they are relaxed and smiling and have coats to keep them warm.

Next on the program a youthful mariachi band.

For a short video of the mariachi players, click the link below:
MVI_3433.MOVMariachi


We especially enjoyed the cute kids like this future cabalgata rider.

And, a budding cabalgata queen.

It was bitterly cold the day of the ride. Locals said the weather was unusual for the time of year.  Jim is bundled up and talking to Dr. Linda McCoy,  a fellow engineer and Viet Nam Vet. She hails from Las Cruces, NM and came for the Cabalgata. I took this picture because I’ve never seen Jim this bundled up against the cold. And, Linda was an interesting woman.

Yesterday, we arrived at Rock Hound State Park. And, I leave New Mexico for home tomorrow. It has been an interesting two months.