Cars are a necessity of modern life, except in the largest cities. Everything is spread out, and a car is the fastest way to get from place to place, as one could wait days for a bus. So I got in my car, and went downtown to see this car show, miraculously finding a place to park. At one time cars were made as works of art, rather than the generic sort of styling that passes for design in modern vehicles.
This is an iconic bit of Western Americana, a non-standard paint job with wooden rails so you can haul more stuff, and the gun rack in the back window.
Chrome is horrible for the environment and adds a lot of extra cost and weight to a vehicle, but it sure looks purty.
And at every car show there must be a beer wagon. I was born quite near this brewery and have always loved this eagle.
My older brother’s first car was an MG from the late 50’s. Cars like this used to be quite reasonably priced when I was a young woman, and I had several friends who had these. You had to wear a tweed jacket and a flat cap to drive these as it is an English car (ascots are optional). It became almost impossible to get parts and my brother’s car sat for years waiting on some important bit.
These show cars are beautifully shiny and polished, unlike my cars. I don’t remember when the last time I polished them was, but I do wash them from time to time. (Since I wrote this I will have to polish them now). 🙁
For some the car body is the art, but for others it’s all in the details and paint. This lowrider is totally tricked out with hydraulics and a rather demure paint job.
M’s grandmother and uncle lived in this village at the foot of this landmark along the Santa Fe Trail. (The directions were: go west until you see the mound, turn left at the mound, and you’re just 120 miles to Santa Fe). I love the feeling of coming over the Levy Grade and catching that first view of the mound, it means I’m almost there and I can stop driving soon.
Much like our local mountain, the aspect changes with the different lighting over the course of the day.
It looks soft and distant in the morning light.
You can see the details on a beautiful sunny day.
Or at least you can see them until they disappear into the shadows.
A storm is brewing with a mixture of dark and light.
And after the storm comes a golden sunset. It’s not hard to see why there are so very many artists living in New Mexico, it’s just so gorgeous. And I really must get a better camera, because it is even more beautiful than my pictures.
Colorado peaches are an ephemeral thing, some years we have a late frost, so there are no peaches, or not enough rain or too much rain or whatever disaster is around. This year I’ve gone slightly mad over the delicious Colorado peaches that are available right now. The trick of course is to buy any entire box. That way you know that these delicate fruits have not been manhandled by an uncaring produce clerk. But then you realize that you have an entire box of peaches to peel! And need to figure out what to do with their deliciousness.
This bowl was blanched (dipped in boiling water for 10 seconds before plunging into an ice bath) and awaits peeling.
Ten jars of brandied peaches, little bits of summer sunshine to enjoy over cake or ice cream on a cold dark winter night.
One of the jars of peach jam. I had some on toast the other day and it was a delicious treat (okay, I did put a splash of brandy in here too). I did not photograph the sacks of peaches in the freezer or the peach barbeque sauce. Hmmm, maybe I need another box 😉
I love northern New Mexico, it is so lonesome an area, full of ghost towns and ghosts. Before the coming of paved roads and the railroads, pretty much every place was equal, you might as well be in one place as in another. But the places that offered some geographic advantage grew into cities, like Denver or Albuquerque, connected by main roads and the rest have been left to slowly decay.
Before there were paved roads there was the Santa Fe Trail, people would pile as much stuff as they could fit into a wagon like this and set off for a new life in the wild west. More than 130 years later the wagon ruts are still there, testament to the fragility of the prairie and the number of wagons that made the trek.
This is the old Colfax County Courthouse. Built to last, this lovely building has outlived it’s original purpose and now serves as a small museum to the Santa Fe Trail. They really only started to promote the existence of the Santa Fe Trail and the history of this area about 10 years ago, so they don’t get a lot of tourists (and there is not much to see and do). Most people don’t get off the Interstate (motorway) except to get gasoline. (This is on old highway 85 which ran from Mexico to Canada).
Why build a livery stable of something as ephemeral as wood? We will always need horses, of courses. It’s still here even though the horse is long gone, but they did get rid of the trough.
It has no sign, but this is the old jail. There must not have been much call for this with only four cells or perhaps it was very crowded, with the very bad prisoners being sent to the Santa Fe Territorial Prison.
This old hotel is slowly crumbling away. Part lumber and part adobe, it still exists for now, even though the need for it has passed. I love these old ruins, as the dinosaur that I am I appreciate those who went before us as I watch their dreams fade away.
I somehow can’t resist the siren call of the fair. I love pretty much everything about it, it’s a celebration of rural life, sparkly things, carnival rides and contests.
When you enter through the main gate you see the rodeo arena first thing. It has these lovely cut outs of cowboys and cows making a frieze across the length of the building.
And of course there are plenty of colorful booths selling various kinds of fried things.
This booth had the added attraction of wrapping fried things in bacon, always a winning idea (at least it is if they use good bacon).
But why was I really taking time out of my busy life to run down to the fair? Well it was to check out the latest piece I had submitted to Fine Arts. I didn’t get one of the regular ribbons, I got Juror’s Choice! It was a complete surprise. I have made very serious pieces the past two years, this one was kind of goofy and very last minute. But I got a ribbon, so I was very excited and pleased. It gives me some incentive to do it all again next year.