Going Home

 Rambling thoughts today.

Cleaning up the Casita is the big chore of living there. Strange beasties and such think there is NO REASON for us to be there, and perhaps they are right.  The cat and I have successfully repelled things on all our trips.  Perhaps his chasing across the floor as I TRY to sleep and talking to himself is what scares them off. 

I pass on some wisdom to the next tenant in the book by the bed they call the Guest Log:

• My words of wisdom include refrigerating your trash.  It is semi-primative.  By today's standards, VERY.  Mostly no internet unless your data plan works up there. But there is electricity and fridge, stove, microwave.   Oh, and the cleanest tap water... sigh.... here in Mesa/Scottsdale/Phoenix, I have not sipped from a tap since I moved here in the 80s.  Just smells like gas, and tastes like fish.
• The Baby Navajo Taco is so perfect!  I like Pow Wows because there are so many fry bread booths.  BUT tacos are just huge.  This Baby is so just right.  Freshly made and a bit more merchandise than mama's handiwork, but it is the real thing.
• There are sundried goodies in our pantry, including plenty of spare sheets and beddings, but you have to wash when done. I just bring my own.  Since they traded queen bed for twins, I found I had a bit more than I needed:
  Not a problem.  I suggest a cat.
• DO NOT FORGET YOUR COFFEE, as they have a brewer and liners but if you need that cup, bring your grinds.

I really committed to the nothing of the experience.  I dawdled cleaning and made my third rearrangement of the furniture something I just feel compelled to do.  The cat in my car is smooth as clockwork these days.  Bigger car, and older cat.  He slept all the way up and was only mildly interested in a little walk on the leash before we left.  He is borderline boring.

I spent time in the visitor center in the Puerco Ruins.  There is a semi-stupendous slideshow (a good 15 min) that has all the archaeological discoveries.  I was mesmerized.  Normally there is so much to do.  I never actually DO anything.

On the way out, I made another pilgrimage to Newspaper Rock... not for the petroglyphs but for the omnipresent ravens.  They literally were feet away this time, hanging around, grabbing bugs off our grills.

I will say, this is sort of wondrous.  It is the first time I had people actually seem as excited to have me back as I was to think about my next return!!!