One of the ways I know I've "made it" is by how easily I can be distracted. I've left enough times now to recognize the time of departure, 1:00 p.m., as the "normal" time. And even with my head out the window, tongue flapping in the backdraft (evidence of schizophrenia since I'm *supposed* to be a cat-person) the first thing I do is look for an excuse to stop. So it was with eager anticipation that I exited at Laguna Pueblo forty miles west of Albert's Turkey.
Dominic yawned as he allowed, "It's winter, but it's ending soon." Traffic slows so much during the cold months it's hard to stay awake. He'd had to lay off his auntie and take to making their world-famous fry bread himself. "But," he assured me, "it's the same recipe." His friends, whose lively discussions have, in the past leant a Center a hub-of-the-universe feel, were, he added, off making money.
While I explored the new acquisitions, we talked about the challenges of finding one's way around the new round-about and how the Pueblo won't allow any more signage (if you write and complain they might change their minds).
The store is a decades-old family enterprise and most of the items are by local artists. I bought one each of the micro-kachinas, the larger one being less than an inch and a half tall. The mask on a stand next to the figure (the plastic box is 3/4 of an inch square) comes off the stand and can be "worn" by the figure. The detail and workmanship are exquisite. There were only a few left so if you're in the neighborhood, now's the time. The larger ones are $44 and some change and the boxed ones are $34+.
All Kachinas by Mac Hanch of Yah-Ta-Hey, New Mexico
And tonite, the peace and quiet of a remote campsite.
