Here we are in the Santa Clara Pueblo. Mom is wandering from house to house (they’re all galleries) and undoubtedly charming the pants off all these fantastic potters. Mom is just so inspired and excited by this pottery – most pottery in fact- that you are just not human if you don’t find her enthusiasm infectious.
I, on the other hand, am lying in Benji’s front seat wishing for the tiniest wee little nap. Three nights of almost no sleep are starting manifest their ill effects. Evidence: I was walking to the women’s locker rooms at Ojo Caliente, a hot springs spa and resort where we spent last night. Anyway, it was windy and cold, and I was all relaxed from the hot springs but also wet and starting to frost at the edges, and I noticed that a fire had been built in the kiva outside. I sat down in front of it and almost CRIED it was so wonderful. Okay, there was some actual crying.
Since I’m by now an expert in signs of sleep deprivation insanity, I can tell you, this is it. Perhaps tonight will make it all better…
As for Ojo Caliente, it was a very different experience from Ten Thousand Waves. I think I’m partial to Ten Thousand Waves: to mountains (over desert) and to the Japanese spa set up. Oh, and also to having my own shower in my own room.
But Ojo Cliente’s mineral hot springs were soothing, and have perhaps cured Mom’s arthritis. If that’s the case, then of course showers can be damned. The resort also has a pretty good restaurant, where we ate breakfast, and a bar, where we had a glass of wine last night before heading to the soaking pools. The bar was tended, by the way, by one of the crabbiest bartenders I’ve ever met. But then Ten Thousand Waves only has plastic wrappd sandwiches and hot tea. So it’s a tradeoff.