miles and miles.....

With gas prices at $3.59 in Cimarron last I checked, I don't enjoy watching the numbers roll so quickly on my odometer.  But roll they must!

 

Yesterday was an extraordinary day.  It also felt a little extraordinarily complicated at times, but that is because of Monday. 

 

Monday night I had to ditch my car.  It snowed.  Again.  A snow that reminded me of home in Oregon.  Marie and I decided to cancel religious ed classes Monday night because the snow was getting thicker and thicker.  It took a while to stick, but once it did, the roads became heavy with it.  Unlike, say, the snow we had last Friday, this one was like Portland Cement - really wet and dense and heavy, the kind of "powder" I learned how to ski in.  So Marie sent out the mass-text message; she loaded her kids in the van; and I followed slowly behind them heading south on Hwy 21.  At 30 mph I felt badly for holding Marie up, who was able to travel 35 mph.  My little Pita just couldn't handle the snow.  The ruts were too wide for my wheels, and as Andres said, my car was more of a snow plow with such low clearance.  I called her to ask if she could send Andres back for a little extra weight or if she would pull into Philmont, so I could abandon poor Pita and ride home with her.  I abandoned my car...

 

This made Tuesday so complicated because Thomas had wanted a ride into Springer to his carpool because I would be in Raton in the afternoon to give him a ride home, or more accurately, a ride to Cold Beer where he and Daniel would shuck oysters for the Mardi Gras party, a long tradition of those two.  Daniel would then get Thomas home.  School was delayed two hours because of the snow, so I got a late start into Cimarron to get my car.  The craziness ensued as Thomas and I tried to coordinate cars and rides, but the real fun came yesterday afternoon.  I finished up my meeting in Raton and brought Thomas lunch.  It was a quick one, but it was fun to sit at his desk and hang out.  I disappeared for a bit (appointment to file taxes) and then came back for a tour of the jailhouse on the top floor of the county building - glad I never had to share the pepto pink cell with anyone!  And then we were on our way to Cold Beer.

 

Out here there are pretty much three places to drink beer - at the St. James, at home, and at Cold Beer.  This bar, somewhere between Cimarron and Raton, serves up alcohol and pizza most nights, music and Jeopardy sometimes, hamburgers in the summer, and oysters on Mardi Gras.  The pool table is covered with a plastic table cloth and laden with the accoutrement for eating shrimp and oysters, along with beaded necklaces.  Out back in the shed, Thomas and Daniel hang out in the stink of oysters, popping them open over and over and over again.  They had 6 cases of about 5 dozen each, but they only loaded the plates of with half a dozen.  There were a few rotten ones, and there were some real winners, which may or may not have never left the shed.  When I dropped Thomas off, I thought I would walk back to hang out briefly, but some people from Cimarron talked me into sitting with them and having some beer.  After a half pint of beer, I made my way out to the shed and ended up staying an hour or two.  It was fun talking with the guys and teasing with them.  I ran the full plates into the bar and earned myself a cup of shrimp.  People would pop in and out of the shed for more visiting, and it was a lot of fun.  There was a band playing Cajun music and everything else.  I really enjoyed the washboard played with spoons - a fun sound.  And when the sun set and it got to cold for me, I headed home to start a fire and wait up for my stinky man to arrive.  Gratefully it wasn't too late, and he went straight to the shower.  The threat of him crawling into bed smelling of oysters was enough to keep me up and waiting! 

 

And now, having driven Thomas into Springer and back through Miami to Cimarron, my car has a couple hundred miles on it in 24 hours.