Visited my mother and aunt Eleanor today. Caroline and her mom spent part of the afternoon picking fresh tangerines, tangelos, and grapefruit in the backyard. Afterward, we sat down for dinner featuring the leg of lamb Caroline and I had brought back from Brown’s Orchard in Wilcox, Arizona. My mom prepared the lamb along with half a dozen of the artichokes she had received as a gift from a friend in Monterey, California. At home, Jutta and Caroline made juice. All in all, a pleasantly nice slow day, the way Sunday should be.
Bent Reflections
Jutta and Caroline looking into a mirrored glass sculpture after a failed attempt to find the rabbit hole. Later in the day, we found our way into a darkened theatre for a showing of Kabul Express – not your typical Bollywood production. The movie did to our perspective of Afghanistan what the artwork did to the reflection, Kabul Express is worth a look.
Jutta Kommt An
And here she is, Jutta Engelhardt, my mother-in-law on her 5th visit to America. Jutta flew from Frankfurt, Germany to Chicago, Illinois, earlier in the day, only to be overwhelmed by our draconian immigration processes to such an extent that she missed her connecting flight to Arizona. So, after 15 hours in transit, this 71-year-old potential threat to the security of the United States was fingerprinted, photographed, had her bags taken apart on the lookout for god-knows-what, to be finally sent on her way 5 hours later. She arrived in Phoenix by evening instead of the early afternoon – at least America is safe tonight.
Jutta Returns to Germany
Ok, so this isn’t Day 10 of my trip back east, but it was a cloudy, gray, rainy, humid day in Buffalo, where the city was in such ugly decay that picking a different picture for POTD was necessary.
This was Jutta’s last day in the United States. My mother-in-law spent two months with us and for the most part, it was a great two months, not perfect, but no disaster either. For the past week, Caroline and Jutta had time to themselves while my mom and I had our bonding time on the trip back east.
Caroline drove her mom to the airport for an early morning departure to Chicago, where she connected to a flight bound for Frankfurt, Germany. As you can see, Caroline was genuinely sad to see her mom leave.
Jutta and John say Goodbye
Jutta and I say goodbye as she stays the night at my mother’s house, allowing Caroline and me to have our first night alone since May 13th! In the morning, my mother and I will depart on our cross-country road trip.
These past two months with my mother-in-law have been one of the best visits, and one of the “could have been better” at the same time. I am probably too impatient and Jutta a bit too forgetful, but still, we managed to end our part of the visit with smiles, and some laughs in addition to sharing many, many moments taking in some incredibly beautiful sights. I hope her next ten days alone with Caroline will go well and that they enjoy each other’s company minus the aergerlich schwiegersohn. Somehow I actually will miss my mother-in-law, believe it or not.
Bosque Redondo – The Long Walk
Disclaimer: This post was updated in November 2022, as the original only included 1 photo. The bigger details were written back then, although a few things needed to be figured out.
After leaving the Guadalupe Inn in Whites City, New Mexico, the three of us had breakfast in Roswell at the Nuthin’ Fancy Cafe. After a ton of desert and not one alien, we stopped for a laugh here off State Route 20 and the intersection of Altito Road, but if you don’t read German, you may not know why we stopped. You see, Geiler in German means hornier, and the idea of some serious horny cattle out there as though that were a possibility, well, that seemed pretty funny to us.
Not so funny is this shrine to a mass murderer, but because this psycho arrives out of the over-romanticized Old West, he’s a kind of folk hero. So, what’s in the Billy The Kid Museum?
Oh, a gun that maybe he used to murder someone. It makes me wonder why we don’t have a roadside museum dedicated to Jeffrey Dahmer featuring power tools and blood-stained towels for processing the eating of his victims.
Okay, this fits: why not feature racist iconography out of the dark past, as those who worship at the feet of villains might enjoy memories of better times?
Right on, some angry injun beating his drum, that works for this abomination of a place.
I think the wheels fell off this once-quaint idea of building a museum to this type of character.
Bosque Redondo was the end of the trail for over 8,000 Navajos who were force-marched off their lands and into New Mexico on what is known as “The Long Walk.” A new visitor center has opened here on these grounds next to the Pecos River in Fort Sumner, New Mexico. I would have supplied a link to more information, but the links are a hit-and-miss hodgepodge of snippets of info that fail to go into great detail about the significance behind the memorial.
This map shows a proposed route of what could one day be the Long Walk National Historic Trail.
We are out on the interpretive trail; this is the Pecos River running through the Memorial Park.
This memorial was just opened back on June 4th, not even 3o days ago; even the dragonflies are new.
The exhibits in the facility are not yet all-together there; this is all a bit of work in progress.
And if you arrive in the summertime, expect the temperatures to be north of 100 degrees (40c).
There’s a nearby photo that depicts Native Americans under armed guards building the barracks for the white guys, except those were built with adobe bricks; we’re guessing this is a recreation over the foundation, so we get the idea.
Nearby, the Billy The Kid Grave Site is guarded by a cage, and somehow, people want to throw money at it and leave flowers. Next week, I’m gonna set up a shrine and museum in honor of John Gacy, the Killer Clown, so people pay my bills by throwing their spare change at his headstone. Don’t go telling me or anyone else that he was cremated because that doesn’t matter; we just need a place, some artifacts, and maybe some body parts.
Encino, New Mexico, simply turned into a ghost town and is being allowed to crumble. Too bad Charles Manson didn’t kill people here.
Maybe Kenneth Pinyan, a.k.a. Mr. Hands and the city of Enumclaw, should come to mind? Last night he died after having his internal organs used as a punching bag by a stallion penis.
Makes you wonder what kind of bestiality might have been happening out in these parts, seeing how this Encino Motel was under new “menagement,” obviously a play on menagerie and management.
My mother-in-law’s body is in there, don’t tell anyone.
We crossed a fuller-than-usual Rio Grande River; seems I’m kind of full of it, too.
Of course, we stayed the night in Socorro, as where else should we have had dinner? Staying here allowed us to not only grab our evening meal at our favorite little restaurant in New Mexico – the El Camino Family Restaurant, but you can rest assured that breakfast will also be right here.