These are some fine sentences from my blogroll I read during the week of February 28-March 6, 2010. If a writer has not composed during the week, I do not make a selection. Refer to the writer’s blog for the full posting. See blogroll on the right margin of this page.
He ate the food provided, slept on a bunk bed in a rough barrack, and saved every pay check. Pa worked dawn to dusk beneath a scorching sun, endured the thick humidity, and avoided malaria….My grandfather carried his true love over the threshold. –Kittie Howard, The Block, on her grandfather working on the Panama Canal, buying land and building a home and parlor in Louisiana for his wife.
I told them once, “Mantengan su uso de las dos lenguas. La mente de una persona que sabe dos es mas lista.” Keep your knowledge of two languages. Your mind is smarter knowing two.” –By C.C., Color of Sand Blog, on teaching several students from Chihuahua in Bernalillo, New Mexico, Middle School.
Centennial Flat is a place I’ve spent a little time, and I was wondering if I might recognize any of the individual Joshua trees even after eighty years of change. That little one in the middle there almost leapt out at me. Let’s take a closer look. —Chris Clarke, Coyote Crossing, on comparing Joshua trees in the Mojave from photographs taken eighty-years apart (see photos on his blog).
Old retablos, santos and other holy artifacts are in the church. The pews beckon you to sit, to pray, to stay awhile. Turquoisie Moon, on visiting the Catholic church in Chimayo, New Mexico.
My dad never misses a beat, just moves a little faster and they are fifteen again, unmarried and without children, dancing at someone’s house after church on Sunday night over in the Porter community. Then dad grins at me and I know this is my life and they are right here, still happily in love with each other and glad to have us. —Bunny Terry, I Love New Mexico, on being in the second grade and transcending the criticisms of her second-grade teacher.
The small villages along Highway 55 have always held a special place in my hard-scrabble New Mexican heart. Using the few resources available in the barren, harsh acres, early settlers recycled the ever-present rocks into homes, walls, and churches. —Karen Rivera, New Mexico Photography, comments on photographing The San Antonio Church near Moriarty.
I was simply told to follow my heart. –Kristy Sweetland, Stark Raving Zen, on the motivation to write, despite it all.
Oh…and the best news yet…it is sunny today, that full up, in your face sun, complete with crystal clear blue skies. –Martie, Taos Sunflower, on shaking off the winter blues in Arroyo Seco, New Mexico.
Meanwhile, down on Main Street, I could hear the sound of a dulcimer. I walked back down and saw a gal sitting on a bench, playing it as it laid there across her lap. It was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard. –Teresa Evangeline, on visiting Cripple Creek, Colorado, in 1975.
If it’s a choice between a lens or a bottle of water, always take the water. The Texas sun can be a relentless companion in the Hill Country and folks that don’t respect its strength soon find themselves dehydrated and exhausted. Not a great combination for a nature photographer. –Jeff Lynch, Photography, on how to survive photographing in the Texas Hill Country in spring and summer.
A time comes each winter when we look at our dwindling wood pile and wonder how we managed to burn so much wood and it’s only February. Most years we keep on top of it, but sometimes — for one reason or another — it gets away from us. –Coffee on the Mesa, Taos, on running low on firewood at the end of February.
It was the flower child, peace, love, or to me it was feelin’ groovy. —Evangeline Chavez, on the 1960s and 1970s and what the decades meant to her.