Tofu-knits

October again

It's now October, which means I've recently returned from the Taos Wool Festival.  It was, as usual, fantastic. 

I did something this year that I've never done before.  Sunday morning, instead of running right down to the festival as soon as it opened and looking again at the same stuff I saw the previous day, I went for a hike on the  Devisadero Trail.  This was just a few miles out of town, and let me see Taos from above.

I also heard the announcer from the Wool Fest.  Sound carries a long way in the mountains.

I wasn't alone on the trail.  But my company was not other hikers.

The other thing I did that I've never done before in Taos was laundry.  No pictures, it wasn't any more interesting than laundry ever is.  Although, there was the man in the laundromat folding his wet clothes who told me he was taking them home to hang on the clothesline-his clothing had never seen the inside of a dryer.  Good for him!

I did laundry because I was headed for another week at Christ in the Desert Monastery.  Last year I spent a few days.  The peace I felt after just a few days was so great, I worked this year to get an entire week.  Sunday is different than every other day at the monastery.  And with an entire week I'd get a feel for both ordinary as well as special days.  

I also wanted a longer visit as I'll be in Chicago next year at wool festival time, and won't get to go on my retreat.

Tuesday, October 4th, is the Feast of St. Francis.  On this day, or on the Sunday closest to this day, many churches hold a blessing ceremony for our companion animals.  There was nothing planned at the monastery.  But they managed to pull together an informal blessing in the lobby of the main building.  There were 5 resident dogs present.  The monastery cats were off doing cat things.  And I added the names of my cats, Rusty and Pip Squeak to be blessed in absentia.

One of the dogs was so moved at being sprinkled that he walked up to the priest after the formal ceremony and returned the favor.

This statue of St. Francis is in the courtyard of the guesthouse.  I believe this is the one the monks say had its arms pecked off by woodpeckers.

 

The biggest difference between last year and this year was the weather.  Last year it was sunny and warm.  This year it rained.  It rained a lot.  It rained so much that by Saturday morning, I muttered out loud, 'God, please let it stop raining'. 

Within half an hour it started snowing.

It didn't snow very long, got sunny and warm, and stayed fair the rest of my visit.

The road to the monastery is a dirt road.  The Forest Service gravels and grades it regularly.  But the continuation of the road on monastery property is just dirt.  After 4 days of rain it was mud.  A guest arriving Friday evening got his car stuck, and it sat at the side of the road until Sunday afternoon.  Another person trying to leave Sunday morning before mass got stuck and had to stay until after noon when they could get the tractor out to free his car.

On leaving the monastery and turning onto the first paved road toward home, I had the same reaction as last year.  I thought there must be something wrong with my car because it was so noisy.  It took about half an hour of driving to recognize it was just the usual noise of my tires on the road.  I just hadn't heard anything that loud and mechanical in a week.  (I left Christ in the Desert almost 3 weeks ago, and have yet to turn on the radio in my car.)

I admit, the first few hours were spent stopping at various locations indulging myself with things I hadn't had for a week. I bought a big chocolate chip cookie at the general store in Abiquiu.  I stopped in Santa Fe and had a big burrito.  And that evening in Gallup I went out for ice cream.   It seemed odd to have food left on my plate after I was full, and to watch leftovers taken away to be discarded.  I was used to serving myself only what I would eat, and finishing everything I served myself. 

My time on retreat helped me to see some things in new persepctive.  And that's what I'll be posting about in the next days.

A year of many changes

The first, and probably the least consequential, is the 2 kittens I adopted almost a year ago.

 

 

We adopted them from the local Humane Society.  I had planned to adopt only 1 kitten.  But when I looked at kittens in the adoption center at PetSmart, these 2 were together in one cage.  Every time I saw them they were playing with each other or sleeping curled up together.  I didn't have the heart to split them up, so they both came home with me. (in a cardboard box!)

It was not an easy decision to adopt a cat.  Our last cat, Lunch, died in 2008 at the age of 20.  His was the first of many deaths we faced over the next 2 years.  My husband and I were both a little anxious about bringing anyone else into our lives.  The idea of becoming attached to anyone, 2 footed or 4 footed, and then losing that attachment was more than either one of us was ready for.  But I found myself missing the companionship of an animal, and Pat said he wouldn't stop me if I wanted to adopt.

They went through a few names before we settled on 'Rusty' (the darker cat with the white nose in the back of the cuddler) and 'Pip Squeak'.  If you could hear Pip try to meow, you'd understand her name.  They are energetic and affectionate, and their very presence has made our home happier.  In pictures they look like happy domestic animals.  But they channel their wilder ancestors very nicely.  Once they were neutered and had full-time pet door privileges, they decided they live outside and visit the house for food and a warm place to sleep when it's chilly.  This makes cleaning the litter box a simple task. Instead we have to clean up mouse carcasses and organs, feathers and dead birds, and half an apocylpse worth of grasshoppers. They've brought us 2 snakes, several live mice, and a steady supply of big growling beetles.  One day we found legs and a head that looked like a tarantula.

And within the last 2 months they've challenged us with a skunking, an abcess, a flea outbreak, and tapeworms.

The next change was my father's death in March.  It was not a surprise; his condition had been declining for the last few years. But as I learned when my mother died over 10 years ago, expecting it doesn't make it easier.  This took much of my time, energy, and attention this spring.  There's more to be said about our relationship.  But there's not much else I will say in a public forum. 

I'd wanted to include a picture of him here.  The only pictures I can find on my computer show him looking old and tired, not the Dad I remember.

And finally, I'm changing jobs.  When I was finishing my training, I considered doing a fellowship to pursue a sub-specialty.  Economics and exhaustion won out and I got a 'real job'.  It pays well.  However, over the years, the job seemed to take more from me than the work gave me back.  As our finances go more secure, I thought more and more about doing the subspecialty training.  So I applied, interviewed, went through one of the fellowship matches, and at 9 am local time on June 22 got the news that my life is about to change drastically.  I hope it's for the better.  I'll be moving, with the cats but without my husband, to Chicago.  We lived there 4 years while I was in residency.  But this time, I will NOT live in the suburbs and commute.

The reactions from my co-workers were in the range of 'congratulations' and 'how exciting!'  I'd like to think they're supportive.  I hope they're not just glad to be rid of me.

It's going to mean a huge decrease in pay for the year.  And the cats will have to learn to live indoors full time.  My work hours I don't know about.  Since the end of my training, new restrictions on work hours have been implemented.  I think as a physician in private practice, my schedule would violate some of the limits.

I hope to be posting more soon. I have a couple of hand-written drafts of things I realized while on retreat a few weeks ago.  One of them is that I have to be more conscious of what's going on in my life instead of just giving it the least attention needed to get from morning to night, while spending most of my mental energy wishing for things to be better.  And writing stuff down helps me to clarify what's real and what's possible.

 

 

 

This is a test

This is only a test of the remote posting function on Typepad.

But stay tuned. There's a draft posting on my computer.