Sam said it was a six-hour job so leaving him to it, I set off to explore.
Mormon architecture is different than the pueblo style of Albuquerque.
This is the apple lady's; her husband built it in the 1920s.
"They're Jonathans," she said.
It's been so long since I'd seen a maple these seemed worthy of a photo.
This holds more than is readily apparent. Behind the fence on the right is a big garden with the large area of flowers in the video. Further down is yea olde gas station with its rusted pumps. Across the highway, where the parked car sits, is the Scipio Co-op, a combination museum, antiques mini-mall with 30 vendors and a small selection of contemporary tchotchkas.
The fuel pump came in and she's going on the lift. Sam said it's about a four-hour job...I think as much to prepare me for the bill as anything.
I feel fortunate to have fallen into these folks's hands. It's been interesting being in a place where everyone knows everything about everyone.
As luck would have it, Keaton's an artist and was kind enough to let me see some of his work. I also got to be a sounding board for some of the difficulties of his dovorce....which was final yesterday.
3:30 pm - The "new" fuel pump was bad. Fortunately, they had another on the shelf. This time they tested it before.
6 pm - Heading out. And with fresh eggs from Keaton's chickens.
I'm gonna blame the elevation of 5360' for the lethargy. I managed to circumambulate the adjoining block where there's an apple tree.
Jonathans With Commercial Honeycrisp
The lovely owner, who looked every bit of a day over 90, was kind enough to, when I asked, encourage me to take a pocketfull. Maybe tomorrow, when the light is right, I can get some pictures.
Out for my evening amble, Cole & Gordon knew a likely prospect when they saw one.
The way they opined the lack of salted caramel made me wonder if they'd bought 'em all themselves. It being too far back to the car for me to walk, I sent 'em off tuh fetch my wallet.
I've forgotten where I found the wallet, but the lanyard was made by a retired banking executive who had a leathergoods shop in Quincy, California. It's a teensy li'l place, hardly more than a walk-in closet, but if you're up that way it's worth checking out.Cole (the younger) noticed the John Deere emblem.
With four flavors I had to, of course, get one of each.
Cole knew the Albuquerque song, a tune I'd somehow -- in all my 48 years there -- missed.
Gordon had seven knives on him. Three on his belt and four more in his pockets.
So then, it's dark and I'm unrolling my sleeping bag when a voice calls, "Hello!" and a young Hispanic woman tells how their car is overheated and asks if I can help. I explain I'm just a tenant and know very little about cars. They're from Delta. Eventually we get the hood up and she assures me he topped off the radiator this morning. All the belts are there and no other obvious signs of trouble. I suggest the motel, apologize for not being more helpful and turn away.
I need drinking water and the spigot is on the other side of the building. As I'm filling the jug, the young man goes by with a couple of gallons of antifreeze. Back at the car I see he's got the radiator cap off. I hold my headlamp so he can see to pour. After the two gallons we switch to my jug. It takes another gallon and a half; the temperature guage is now in the middle. They're still worried that it'll go up when they drive it. I suggest driving two blocks to test it. They do and when they come back the guage is still in the middle. I tell them they'll make it home and after a few minutes they leave.
