Living and loving through the spilled milk times

May 5, 2018

Probably the most spectacular thing we saw all of this trip was the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge and the Gorge below. Up on the bridge we were so high it made me dizzy to look down. The canyon below was amazing to see and seeing the river below that had carved that gorge over millions of years was mind-blowing. Then we drove back to Santa Fe through the Carson National Forest and the views were so pretty. I highly recommend this day trip to anyone in New Mexico.

Tuesday we saw the Museum of Natural History in Albuquerque. So many dinosaur bones have been found in NM and seeing them was very interesting. This museum also had the history that explains many of the layers we see in the mountains, the past volcanos that have left the black rocks. Steve has bought a book, “The Field Guide to Geology” and is collecting interesting rocks to study. On a walk on Wednesday we saw petroglyphs carved into rocks by the natives many years ago.

Thursday was Steve’s worst day yet. It started good --- We visited with Claire Bettler, a midwife who had volunteered with us in Haiti and who had been on the BOD for a while when she and her husband lived in Richmond. She is now a midwife in Albuquerque and he is a Family Practice doc there.

After she left we made plans to move the RV to Santa Fe. As usual, Steve unhooks and does all the outdoor things and I do inside things to get ready to roll. When we pulled forward about 8 foot there was a terrible noise and we knew something BAD had happened. The large electric plug (think 3 large prongs on a plug about 3 inches in diameter) had not been unplugged. So when we pulled forward we pulled the large electric pedestal off to one side of its platform and damaged the electric panel in our RV.

Poor Steve was so upset with himself. You know, you can be your own worst critic and he beat himself up a bit that day for not making one last trip around the RV before taking off. My dad was one of those people who never cried over spilled milk. Spilled milk just means you start mopping up. One memory I have of my dad is coming in after milking cows in the morning and singing, “Oh, what a beautiful morning, oh, what a beautiful day!” and then reporting that one of his cows had fallen over dead. Then after breakfast he buried the cow. So I admired how Steve just moved on to 1) unhook the plug and roll up the cord, 2) go to the RV office and report the damages and turn in ID’s, proof of insurances, etc. 3) take the RV to the repair shop who needed a part ( a new panel that cost $300 + $175 installation) and 4) threaten to start a GoFund me page for his costly goof-ups.

Sometimes Steve looked so forlorn I just gave him a hug. It made me think about how we all make mistakes and how we treat each other when we do. I try to remember how I treated my children when they “spilled milk” and think about how some children are made to feel small and have low self-esteem even when mistakes are just accidents. I also remembered the number one rule for accidental mistakes – Do not ask “Why did you do that?” Because what kind of answer are you wanting?  “Because I am stupid”? “Because I wanted to irritate you”? Most of the time when people have accidents they just need a hug. And help burying the cow.

Most of this past week we slept late in the mornings, had slow mornings, and did short trips, making it home for long evenings. We read books and watched movies and took short walks. We hiked in Bear Canyon and saw no bears. We bought homemade chicken pot pie and local honey at a Farmers Market. One morning we watched Glass-blowing for hours. After tedious work in and out of the fire (if one part cools the rest breaks off) the piece fell on the floor. Aww, the agony. They had to start over. Glass-blowing takes perseverance. We are going back for lessons next week. 

glass-blowing artists

I forget why -  and what about - but one memory I have of this week is laughing with Steve. For some reason looking at each other and sharing belly laughs is a very bonding thing. Seeing him laugh really hard makes me happy.

There is laughter and there are tears. One of my dear friends lost her husband to cancer this week. I thought about contrasts- how the church hurt him and how it also gave him his best friends. How some people can forgive incredible wrongs and some people cannot. The miracle that we see trees and bushes and flowers growing out of rocks here. How some plants and trees overcome hardship and others cannot.

Life out of rocks

Also this week my oldest friend, Grace, lost her mother. Grace was my very best friend from 1^st grade through 12^th and we loved being in each other’s homes. She loved our barn, the mazes we made in the hay mow and my mother’s homemade apple sauce. I loved that she had a TV, store-bought cookies, and store-bought dresses. We had good mothers. And they are now both gone.

Steve is cooking Beef Curry in the Instant pot and watching the Nationals on his phone. Hoping to not have to bury any cows this week…

I spent some money here

Santa Fe, here we come

My night to cook- Orange Chicken stir fry