Aysha’s WOrld

Hiking the Dale Ball Trails on Santa Fe's Eastside

Sat, 19 Apr 2008 08:06:17 -0600

More than 20 miles of hiking/mountain biking trails grace Santa Fe’s east side. Here are some photos.2

Santa Fe Standard Poodle Connection

Thu, 10 Apr 2008 10:30:47 -0600

Santa Fe has “something for everyone,” and if your “thing” is dogs, you’ve come to the right place. While every dog owner who loves his or her canine friend can be a devoted caregiver, arguably none are more devoted than standard poodle owners.

Perhaps it’s because standards require so much care. In exchange for not shedding (they have hair, you know!) and being unusually perceptive companions, they must be brushed daily, bathed weekly and groomed at least once a month...and this grooming is an expensive proposition -- upwards of $100 a pop, unless you learn to do it your self and have the time and inclination.

Like all much-bred dogs, standards are more prone to certain illnesses and health complications, like Addison’s Disease (a life-threatening shut down of the adrenal glands which, like diabetes, can be controlled by regular injections) or bloat (another life-threatening condition wherein the intestines get entangled).

It is said that standards (being among the smartest breeds) have “breed recognition,” meaning they know when they are among “their own kind.” While I don’t know if this is scientifically validated, it does seem to be true. While they may be friendly to other dogs, there is a distinctive level of play (very mouthy and rambunctious) they engage in with each other, in almost endless delight.

Owning a standard naturally puts one into the same category with other poodle owners; i.e., we love our poodles. Recognizing this, two Santa Fe women started a club for standard poodle owners and some 27 people registered in the first month.

The first meeting, held at one of the founder’s private homes, drew 15 people for coffee, desserts and a presentation about poodle health from a local veterinarian: feed them a balanced diet like you eat -- meat, vegetables, dry food/grains, and be aware of Addison’s Disease which can disguise itself as renal failure or other vague distresses.

Many of us exchanged business cards and vowed to make play dates so our beloved children can experience the active social life we hope to create for our selves. Because, sleeping with their heads on a pillow, eating baked chicken for dinner and enjoying $100 haircuts every month, they are not only our charges, but we are most certainly and willingly their servants.

Santa Fe to Albuquerque

Thu, 3 Apr 2008 00:00:00 -0600

I don’t often leave Santa Fe. I have no reason to. Maybe I’m inherently a “home body,” or maybe I want my leaving to be worth the effort: far away, via airplane. I’m not keen on road trips, having driven so many miles crisscrossing the U.S. a dozen times in the past 35 years -- in VW vans (which invariably broke down), lumbering Buicks, RVs or public buses. So, even a drive to Albuquerque, some 60 miles to the south, can be a novelty for me.

(Mind you, many people commute between the two cities and there is a major public railroad project underway, the Railrunner, which will shuttle commuters in the median of the interstate, the only road that connects the state’s biggest city to the state’s capital).

We set out at 6 p.m. to delivery our webmeister, Joel, to this father’s home in Rio Rancho, a sprawling Any City USA on the northwest side of ABQ. Massive summer clouds filled the spring sky, puffy cumulus and lavender over the Jemez Mountains, long streaks of peach and tangerine across the Galisteo Basin, churning and shapeshifting. What’s that over near Los Alamos? Looks like a mushroom cloud. Don’t joke.

The highway, Interstate 25, the Pan-American Highway, parallels the Camino Real, the Royal Road where Conquistadores rode upon their horses from Mexico in search of the Seven Cities of Gold, terrorizing the native populations along the way. It is a lonely landscape, even zooming past at 70 miles an hour. I cannot imagine their fortitude, greed or desperation, to persevere at 4 miles an hour.

Joel will spend the night with his dad and then return to LA after 10 days of staying with us and fulfilling his agreement to help me create a new website (on which you are reading this). He is an good friend who has helped us on several projects -- building, landscaping and, now, a website. A welcome houseguest, he cooks meals and cleans up, sings along to his iPod (even if it is Donovan!) and even says, “I’m such a lucky guy.” That attitude of gratitude makes his company a pleasure and gift, and I am sad to see him go. I am also annoyed that he’s “abandoning” me to continue figuring out the zillion facets of website development and maintenance.

I ask him to tell me again where we’ve stored the data file, how I access iWeb, when I use iMap and so on. We congratulate ourselves on what we’ve accomplished, although I’m dubious about its value to the search engines, which was my whole intention for the tiresome project. David finds our conversation so interesting he makes snoring noises. We stop chattering and notice again the brilliant blue sky stretching past the far mesas and hills, the setting sun casting rays of glory upon the dry earth, the long road and our lucky lives.