On Sunday I attended a birthday party near Mineral de Pozos, a tiny colonial mining town to the east and a bit north of here, about an hour's leisurely drive. The birthday party was for Joe, the inspiration of and moving force behind the local opera.
I did not have a chance to wander around the area, and I intend to return to this little town soon to do just that. The birthday party was also leisurely, lasting the afternoon and into the night. I stayed over and had plenty of time to stare at the high desert from the veranda.
I have already waxed rhapsodic about the experience of camping out there. As I stared at it on Sunday, it occurred to me that I have made a bit of a mistake becoming so settled in town.
I think that for most people, looking at the high desert from the veranda of a middling luxurious hacienda-style home for a few minutes is sufficient, just as two cocktails are entirely sufficient for them. They are the blessed ones. For my part I become anxious to get out there ass deep in that high desert with a small tent and sleeping bag and stay there for three days.
I am resolved to do that again soon. That will require replacing the little tent that was stolen out of the back of the truck here in town, repairing the air mattress for the comfort of my old bones, and general provisioning for that kind of foray.
Soon. Very soon.
The owner of this home has an interesting variation on the whole font lawn concept. That is a field of lavender. Raising lavender in this fashion has created four new jobs for the locals, making her welcome in the community. Hopefully, more jobs will be created in connection with the manufacture of lavender soap. Admirable, I thought.