Our Road Trip
I promised a story about our trip to Santa Fe, and here it is.
First, let's just talk about Santa Fe, itself. Parts of it are really old. They tell me it dates back to the 1500's. Of course, the people that say that weren't there in the 1500's, so how do they really know? Most of Santa Fe is really new. I can verify this myself because I saw it with my eyes.
Houses in Santa Fe were built just like they had Elaine and me in mind. There are plenty (hundreds) of stuccoed earth-toned, Spanish-styled houses. Beautiful (?) tan, beige, brown houses, both new and hundreds of years old excite Elaine.
Those of you that know me, know that I'm not very excited about earth tones. It was like Santa Fe knew this and didn't want to disappoint me, as there were plenty of purple, sky blue, yellow, bright red fifty-year-old trailer homes next door to the earth-tone mansion. The Santa Feans cleverly separate the properties with dirt, a cactus, and a couple of pinon pines. Personally, I guess they didn't think a planning department was a big deal until the big-box stores found the place.
That said, I love Santa Fe. I can see myself moving there someday, but Elaine and I will never agree on the exterior color of our house. If you like spicy food, Santa Fe is your town. I like spicy food but I'm not crazy about being in pain while I eat. Elaine is fond of Mexican seafood dishes. She searched the internet until she found a restaurant that served a shrimp dinner (Which I don't think is New Mexican cuisine ) that struck her fancy. She didn't bother to tell me the restaurant only sold seafood. I can eat seafood, but I came to New Mexico for beef, pork, and beans. I almost cried when I saw octopus on the menu, no beef, pork, or beans. Octopus, legs with suction cups, Not food!
I ordered cerviche tostadas. It might have been the best thing I have eaten in my life. Not kidding, if you are ever in Santa Fe, check out the Mom-n-Pop on Cerrillos Rd.
Okay, the road trip. Elaine (and I) decided to take more stuff than usual to this trade show. We rented a big truck and filled it to the brim, mostly because we decided to take a knitting needle display that I had built for the old brick-and-mortar. It was extremely heavy, not balanced, and a pain in the (construction language) to load (and unload).
With the truck loaded we headed out for our road trip adventure. Ten minutes from home Elaine says:
Elaine: Did you bring a jacket?
Me: (Construction language) I left it hanging by the door. Elaine: What do you want to do?
Me: I'm not going back.
Elaine: You can always buy one in Santa Fe.
Me: Great idea, since I just took SIX jackets to the thrift store last week.
(We went to Wally World upon arriving in Santa Fe. Elaine pointed out a sixteen-dollar men's jacket that SHE liked. I purchased the jacket and threw it on the dashboard of the truck. It stayed there the entire trip. On the way home, Elaine said, "If you don't want that jacket, I'll take it back and get one for me"
Road-tripping with Elaine is great. I drive and she is in charge of the entertainment. Elaine knits, checks her internet devices for service, and identifies power poles, and their pieces and parts. She likes to look for and identify raptors sitting on power poles, Never on power lines where they could be electrocuted. (see, I pay attention.)
Sometimes Elaine will say something that starts me daydreaming.
Elaine: What town is the supermax prison in?
Me: It is in Florence Elaine: I thought it was in Fountain
Me; No, that is where Billy Bob is from.
Elaine: Oh, OK
That little conversation put me in a two-hour daydream. I went from our friend Billy Bob, who was our friend when Elaine and I were in our twenties. Billy Bob lived in the unit next door in the four-plex Elaine and I lived in. He was over sixty years old, with long hair and a long beard. He was an ex-Marine and all man. We loved him. Billy Bob was estranged from his wife and children and was living away from them. I was working out of state and Billy Bob looked after Elaine. One Saturday morning, I had returned from my project out of state and Billy Bob stopped by the house. I was sleeping after a long flight home. He told Elaine not to wake me. He told Elaine he was dying of cancer and his family was allowing him to come home to Fountain, Colorado. I never saw him again.
I daydreamed about Billy Bob and then I realized physically I've become Billy Bob. I shared this with Elaine and we laughed.
The trade show allowed one full day to set up our displays. An ample amount of time to set up booths, unless the people setting up the booth have lived for eight decades. About halfway through the day, Elaine was exhausted and hyperventilating. I might have mentioned something like, "I'm never doing this again." That knitting needle display kicked my (construction language). Tempers were a little warmer than the weather. Elaine suggested we get set up to a point and return early in the morning to finish. I couldn't have been happier. We went to dinner.
Ceviche tostada. Fish cooked in lime juice. Served with cucumbers, tomatoes, and a sauce to die for on corn tortillas with rice and spiced potatoes. Spiced potatoes? Who knew?
The next morning we finished setting up as the festival began. Customers started trickling into the booth. They started buying. Guess what! Knitting needles! I take full credit for bringing that (construction language) display.
While Elaine was maintaining and running the booth, I started doing what I do, people-watching. I positioned myself under a "community" tent and watched people walk by. I had every intention of photographing oddities in clothing and such but never got around to it.
One guy walked by with what appeared to be a paper cup of what I assumed to be coffee. I asked if he had bought the coffee nearby.
Guy: nope, it's coffee. It's a vanilla latte.
Me: Oh, did you buy it around here?
Guy:: Yes, there is a trailer behind that building selling lattes and coffee. Me: Thanks Guy: I drink black coffee. I didn't even know what a latte was. This is the first one in my life. The lady needed to help me pick it out.
Me: Do you like it?
Guy: Yes, yes I do. I like black coffee better, but I like this.
Here's the deal. A lot of married guys like their wives an awful lot. They will bring their wives to a knitting weaving, and fiber show, and the men are dying of boredom. They are just looking for some poor (construction language) as boring as they are to talk to. I help when I can.
I found the coffee trailer. I was standing in line behind a security guard waiting for coffee.
Guard: Do you drink coffee?
Me: Yes Guard: I don't drink coffee. It makes me jittery and I don't want to not sleep tonight.
Me: I understand.
Guard: What do you think I should get?
Me: Oh boy, here we go again.
Me: Oh nothing, it looks like they have decaf and lemonades of different flavors
Guard: That sounds OK, how do I know which flavors of lemonade are available?
Me: They are on the menu board.
We continued to talk. He informed me the festival was level three security. I learned that meant he didn't need a gun and bulletproof vest. I kind of liked hearing that. It was good to know if some old bored guy thought he was at a gun show and started trouble, security would be running away like the rest of us.
I have another coffee story I will share in a minute or two, depending on how fast you read.
The show turned out to be a financial winner for Elaine. After we had loaded the truck and said goodbye to the other vendors we headed out. We had intended to find New Mexican cuisine one more time. If you have been to Santa Fe, you already know about the restaurant we decided to go to. On the edge of Old Town, dirt parking lot, and more than an hour wait to get a table. You know the one, everyone comes here. Well, we decided not to wait. Ended up at the Outhouse or something like that.
Elaine had recruited a close friend to watch the house keep Lizzie company and take care of the birds. She was looking forward to knitting and spinning at our house. I guess it went really well, except for how much knitting and spinning can one do? She became bored and decided to clean our refrigerator. Now that is way above what is even considered nice. But she threw out the coffee I use for Iced coffee at my house. She washed the pitcher, my coffee went down the drain. I had none when I arrived home, none.
Well, I've been typing for hours. I'm done for now. See you, on Sunday!
Thanks, God Bless! Buy yarn AND needles, but let us get organized again.
Our crazy lives!