January 7, 2010

Finally got my laundry done, whew! I was struggling to carry my second load into the laundromat when I passed a local who was piling hers into a grocery cart (the grocery store is right next door). Why didn't I think of that? Carrying on the tradition of losing things, the machines ate two of my socks, unfortunately not from the same pair. I think I'll bring the two I have left as a sacrifice next time. I can't keep losing socks...it's not as if I can just run down to the Walmart to get more. The nearest Walmart is two hours away...

The laundry was still crowded from my perspective, but not quite as bad as Tuesday. Interesting though. Have I mentioned how sweet and friendly the Navajo are? They seem a little shy sometimes, but as an example, I asked a young woman if she was using one of the rolling laundry baskets there, and she shook her head no, so I tried to roll it over to the washer I was using. Unfortunately, it wouldn't go forward in any direction. The four wheels were all canted at different angles, so all I could get it to do was go in circles. I said, 'that must be why no one is using it' and left it. A few minutes later, the young woman I had asked about it silently rolled the one she had been using over to me, nodded, smiled, and left it there. She never said a word to me, but the kindness spoke volumes.

Last Saturday on our exploration, we passed a big field where several huge flatbed trailers with full loads of hay for sale were arrayed. As we drove back to the main intersection where the road to the park leaves the freeway, we were halted by the sight of eight or ten horses roaming free across the highway in the direction of that field. One of them wandered back and forth and down the middle of the side road several times before we finally got past and headed home.

Yesterday we had lunch with a Park Service employee who had come from another park to help orient Budd in what needs to be accomplished here. As she is Navajo, we asked quite a few questions about things that have puzzled or interested us. She told us that people own the horses, and that there are ordinances to keep them from wandering free in town even though most of the reservation is free-range. But there aren't enough enforcement personnel, so people who can't afford to fence them and feed them just let them roam free. I guess they saw the scattered hay on the ground in that marketplace as a free lunch. The market was there again yesterday, and this time I also noticed what looked like a rummage sale and several tables with jewelry.

During our lunch, we were approached by a gentleman who had mistaken my husband for the park superintendent (not an uncommon occurrence since arriving here). He turned out to be a Pima Indian, the grandson of the famous Ira Hayes, one of the WWII heroes photographed raising the US flag over Iwo Jima. He is a native flautist of some reknown himself, and wanted to give Tom a flyer for an Indian music festival to be held later this month, I think on the 28th. I'm hoping we'll be able to catch it, as I think it will be nearby. Will get Budd to copy the flyer and bring it home so I can post details. Wouldn't it be fun if some of us could meetup there?

Speaking of what Budd needs to accomplish, it turns out to be a great deal more than he identified on the first day. After three days of gathering information, now he's concerned that he won't be able to get it all done in the six weeks. He left for work this morning eager to get started. It's so good to see him enjoying his work.

The pixies brought back my measuring cup last night. Budd had been telling me all along that it was under something. I found it under the other stack of measuring cups, where I would never have put it. Budd denied putting it there to tease me, so it must have been the pixies. I wish they'd bring back my mug.

Went on another walk this morning with the park superintendent's visiting mother-in-law. We were accompanied by a new friend, another neighbor's young German Shepherd named Blaze. He had jumped the fence and insisted on coming with us, but was very good about coming back to us when he wandered too far astray. Sweet dog. My human walking companion is returning to her California home tomorrow, as I learned when we got back to the houses. I'm glad I asked her to tell me about herself today. Her life story has been really full and interesting so far, and she seems well-prepared to have a full and interesting retirement, too, though she delayed starting it until she was almost 75. She did a bit of real estate investing, which of course was the most interesting part for me. I also learned her daughter has recently published a book, so I'm looking forward to learning more about that.

That's all for today--it's time to mop the floor again. In case anyone ever asks you, white linoleum and melting snow in red-rock country don't make a good mix.