During a critical outburst (re reflective perspective), I tried to alter the accumulating bad mood in the van. I felt I was trying to be positive but in the intensity of dissatisfaction, I was accused of thinking I knew it all, having to have the last word, and not allowing others to have an opinion. The words were cruelly spoken to a person who was already physically and emotionally frayed.
I was that person. I closed my mind and my ears and my heart. I put on headphones so I wouldn’t be tempted to try to lighten anyone else’s mood. I decorated, sorted the rsvps, and hired a band. I was having an all out pity party. Of course, I didn’t see it that way. I’d had enough. When I had to interact with the other members of the group, I was short and humorless.
We left Taos fairly early. The plan seemed to be to drive to Santa Fe, grab a bite and visit Jackalope, a huge international flea market type place, and then head home.
Jackalope is awesome. Two years ago, I found all kinds of things there. This year, I would find a southwest style rug for my back patio, we’d find the perfect rings, and I’d find a fairly reasonable string of turquoise that I could take apart and use in my studio. Jackalope, here we come! There was a sense in me that if I could do all that, the aggravations would melt and I’d be okay and laugh again.
We stopped at a few little towns with interesting attributes on our way from Taos to Santa Fe. At Las Trampas, we photographed an old church. Our group loves the southwest mission architecture. Not having a camera, I got my sketch pad and my pencils and went to work on an old adobe house with a very interesting courtyard wall and gate. Louis offered me his camera. I declined, but asked him to photograph the old home for me.
We wandered into a private art gallery owned by a man from Italy in a small dying hamlet called Las Trogas where the only store was stocked with an assortment of beer and two stale pastries. It had an old residue caked coffee maker that was unplugged and a disgruntled employee who griped about movie stars coming into the area and driving up property prices. I really wanted coffee. The gallery had some good quality pieces, though it was quite small. It didn’t take long to see it all and we were back on the road.
The town of Chimayo is quite interesting. It has an unsettled air about it. Two years ago we had visited the chapel there and eaten lunch at Rancho de Chimayo a lovely little restaurant. This time, we stopped at the weaving outlet. It was a great place with looms set up in a room next to the merchandise area. I wandered into the room and watched the weavers and asked some questions. It was quite interesting and I pointed several others of our group in that direction. Some of our number bought hand-woven rugs there, but I was waiting for Jackalope. Beside the rug outlet, was a little souvenir store. Louis and I looked at their limited supply of jewelry and ornaments and decided to wait for Jackalope. Yeah, you’ve probably guessed by now.
Louis visited the Museum at Chimayo and I found him there. It was an interesting place: small, but culturally strong with an enthusiastic, interesting, informative owner.
When we joined the others, we learned that our plans had adjusted. It was a little early, but we would eat at Rancho de Chimayo. It was a nice adjustment. Lunch at Chimayo. A good cup of coffee. A good last sit down meal together and on our way.
We arrived at the restaurant to a sea of cars. October is the high color tourist time. Rancho de Chimayo is a unique restaurant. It was full. The wait would be at least 45 minutes. When you travel alone, you can evaluate and adjust quickly. In a group, adjustments come more slowly and don’t always consider everyone’s point of being.
After a good wait had already passed, Louis and I started up the hill to an interest area above the restaurant. Others were coming down the hill purposefully. We enquired as to their intentions and learned that the three of them weren’t going to eat lunch, but were headed into Santa Fe to do a little more shopping. We’d meet up with them at the square after we’d had lunch. That was the moment I knew there would be no Jackalope. Separated as I had been for a couple of days now, I was furious. No inquery, no invitation, just “This is how you will do it.” I felt used and tossed.
I am an odd sort. The strangest things pull me into perspective. The wait was long. My jaw was set. It would be over soon. I looked at the few items in their sales displays. When we were finally seated and our orders taken, I pasted on a smile and watched and listened to the others interact. Then the waiter brought the coffee. I’d not had a good cup of coffee since the restaurant in Pagosa Springs. This was pine nut coffee and its robust aroma filled the table. I drank it so quickly that it was a wonder I’d tasted it, but I did. It was delicious. The waiter filled my cup again, and again. It never stopped tasting good.
The lunch was hilarious. We really acted like hicks from a tiny town. Everyone was passing food back and forth for tasting. One lady bought a margarita, and another drank the bottom out of it with a straw. Since she’s not a big drinker, it hit her fairly quickly. The one who ordered it spooned some of the ice from the top and passed it to another kindly. Two margaritas had been fixed by mistake and before the lunch had ended the waiter brought the other- complementary. We were a friendly group, after all.
The lady who originally ordered the margarita was overjoyed. She sipped a little and offered to share. You guessed it. The other lady finished most of it off from the bottom. We all laughed. I asked the second how often she drank alcohol. “Almost never,” she replied.
The mood had lightened considerably. I was no longer thinking of what I had lost, but seeing what I could salvage. Most of our afternoon was spent in that leisurely setting at that leisurely pace. I bought a pound of coffee to take home with me and a sampler for another. The dam inside me had a crack in it.
There wasn’t much time to shop when we made it to Santa Fe. I found a rug for my porch and a small gift for my best friend. I saw some awesome turquoise jewelry too expensive for me to buy. My husband and I wandered into a leather shop that inspired more ideas to try when I got back to my studio. We looked once more for rings, but of course they were not the creative pieces we had seen in Pagosa Springs. Next time we’ll buy rings!
As we loaded the car for the long drive home, I realized the natural flow of my life and emotions were in balance again. I had not yet processed the reason for my bad interlude. That would come with time and God’s grace, but I could laugh and look kindly and care about others again.
It’s amazing the perspective you gain from a good cup of pinon coffee and the bottom of a margarita.
The picture above is of the outer seating area of Rancho de Chimayo. They were preparing it for a large group reservation even though the day was somewhat nippy. If the photo albums are working, the new album is Taos to Santa Fe and home. If you can't access it that way click the album name above for the direct link.
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