We Made It

Normally a two-day trip with an overnight at the Chinle C.G. (dogs! noisy mufflers, and always a few shots, which sometimes quiet the dogs, from atop the hill).

THIS time I took a diff route. In the throes it seemed fine, but this morning I'm recognizing the sound -- analogously (fortunately, not the REAL thing) -- of a battery in need of replacement or charge......uuuuUUUUUGGGggg; uuuuuuuUUUGGGGgggh.

Comb Ridge in morning shadow with the La Sals (still sans snow thank god!) in back.

Schvoogie, or, The Schvoog (2008 Honda FIT), so named because for-all-the-world he looked, to Ms. Cook, like a house-slipper. He's perennially shod with snow tires so he's at the ready when the skies of Albuq let loose and the cats (she's a cat-sitter) MUST BE FED.

Aired down to 15 pds, we skimmed acroost the grasping sands chortling in mad delight. He's a lo-hangin' chariot tho and bumped ass as we leapt the two-inch berm betwixt the main road and the two-trak that leads to the Stationwagon camp - named for the time when - in our early Spring trip - she loaned the truck and was forced to get by.

But here we are again. At least we think we are. She arrived several days ago and is camped up the road somewhere. We're within texting range tho!

Golden Spliffoes Fill Your Eyes

Early in our courtship, testing my worthiness, Ms. Cook suggested in her inimitably sweet way, that I  create a new cat-part word. Over the preceding months I'd learned how she and her brother had developed an extensive nomenclature of/for cat-parts, so this was no small matter.

We were southbound on interstate 25 about to enter what's known as THE BIG I -- the interchange for Interstate 40 and Interstate 25, the place where ALL the Mexican ground-based drug traffic gets routed to the rest of the country. It's interesting.

In those days, 28 years ago, it was an aerial maze laden with skid marks and deep scars in the concrete barrier that (sometimes) kept vehicles from plunging the 200 feet to the ground.

As I began the approach to the I-40 westbound onramp, it came to me....SPLIFFOES!! The poochy part of a cat's face where their whiskers come out. She was impressed. The rest is history.

Leaving ABQ

Got the blood work; skin cleaned; an incredible EFT session with Ms. Charey Fox, owner of The Source and, best of all, a splendid time with Ms. Cook!