Home on Guadalupe Trail.
Los Ranchos, New Mexico.
At least - it WAS home for 20 years.
Now we're "homeless on a global scale".
(-Not my phrase, but - appropriate-)
I was always open to the idea of leaving.
Ready to pack up and - hit the road.
View from my bench most mornings - with a sketchbook and a cup of coffee.
Cleo waited in a warm spot for us to return.
|The house was an old adobe, so shelves hung from the wooden ceilings.|
|All the doorways were low. Stan had to duck. He didn't always make it.|
|It was an excellent kitchen for cooking. People gathered there, even if it was small.|
|Stan's "garden sculpture" in the back. Home for found objects and old tools.|
"And when the snow comes falling down, I get the urge for going..."
- Joni Mitchell
|Cleo never ventured too far from home. A homebody cat.|
And now...we have a new "home".
On a boat! Maggie May.
On the Canal du Midi. In the south of France.