Cindi's back seatBecky gave me this Christmas cactus in 1976. It has gone everywhere with me ever since and now it's going to New Mexico.

I trimmed it heavily before we left to minimize the amount of space it consumes in the back seat and it probably won't bloom this year. I think it will be happy even so; it always has been, except when I hung it in our foyer in Virginia, where it received too much light and heat.

Rain over the mesa5/23/09 - Around noon today, we crossed from the Texas panhandle down into the New Mexico mesa land along I-40.

The deepest sense of relief, well-being, and wholeness washed over me in sheets like the rain that swept in from the southwest. For the first time in my life, I feel like my energy is complete and fully accessible.

We made such good time today that we arrived in Tucumcari three hours before we normally stop for the day. So we cancelled the hotel reservation there, made a new one in Socorro, and drove on through thunderstorms that, by mid-Atlantic standards were gentle, even though the sky looked venomous. At least they were gentle for me. Ted, following behind me by 15 seconds, said at one point the rain closed in around him and the wind seemed to want to give him a 360 right there on the highway.

Our extra mileage today will mean reduced mileage tomorrow. We expect to arrive in Arenas Valley, the area northeast of Silver City where our house is located, around mid-day. It's just a three-hour drive from Socorro, so we'll be taking it easy.

5/24/09 - Ted woke up laughing this morning. Said his stomach growled with a noise just like his cell phone makes. We made the drive down I-25 in Sunday morning solitude. I had time to soak up the stark scenery, which looks different and more interesting every time I see it. I also had time to remember some details about the trip.

Somewhere between Tennessee and Texas, I saw a couple riding a motorcycle. The woman in the second seat had a black t-shirt with bold white printing that said "WASH YOUR HANDS." Good advice, thought I, but the emergency medical technician in me cocked an eyebrow about their lack of helmets. Clean hands won't do you much good if your brains are scattered from hell to breakfast.