Well, this blog post is a continuation of Valentine’s Day, on a Thursday. Earlier in the day we went to White Sands National Monument, and I invite you to read that blog post before this one. It’s not that you’ll be confused, it’s that it was very interesting and the pictures may suit you, and there is science and history there also. But now to the blog.
We’d already gone to some weird placed names, like Winterthur and Hagley, and La Bambaand Ulta. I think those are the names, not totally sure on the spelling. Okay, but Cloudcroft and Hastings were also weird names, I guess. Okay, so after leaving White Sands, we exited out of Alamogordo in a sand storm. I looked a little at my "Billy the Kid" book, reading the back cover and the prologue, dedication, stuff like that. I really wanted to read it, but knew that I had already read two books before finishing the Mark Twain Book, A Tramp Abroad. I needed to finish that one, and then read some others that I knew I needed to read first before this one. I was deep in thought, reading about Mark Twain's adventures up mountains and the great view, and also about one character who talked a whole lot and wound up getting a different story from Mark Twain as he asked the same questions over again. Confusing. I couldn't believe we were surrounded by desert and shrub and White Sands but, on the other hand, we saw jagged snow peaked mountains off in the distance. With our goldfish to eat and books to digest, video and still cameras on the ready, we got ready to ascend the mountain which held Cloudcroft in it's grasp.
Dirt road for a while, with steep hills and trails, mushy from last nights rain, damp from the tears of Sky. Green around us, forest and pine, brown and green collide. We hear birds off in the distance, and the chirping of all the individual ones. The winter leaves where white as snow, no, wait, they are snow! As we passed by, we saw the little flurries on top of the branches, making white skin for the brown cylinders. Or is this sand, from the White Sands perhaps. No. This was pure, real, snow, or I was asleep and also saw clowns that day. We had just been to sand dunes, and now we were basking in real snow? This made no sense. I guessed the elevation was higher up here so it was colder, but we were in New Mexico, land of the deserts! And we had just been at sand dunes and a desert. I thought it very funny that in the first part of the day we'd gone to White Sands in the desert, and now we were on a mountain road in a forest, with snow all around. It was a gigantic white blanket coming down from the sky, but in parts it was torn and tattered, and some brown dirt got on our precious white sheet. There were parts where the snow wasn't on, and brown pine cones made the air have that mountain feel.
We went up big hills, around trenches, and made our car get pretty dirty, that mixture of dirt down in the valley and then mud in the mountains. I was not in my book; the snow and forest enchanted me. We were to enter Cloudcroft, and most likely get something to eat in the famous city. Cloudcroft meant, in German, "city in the clouds". I thought of that other city in the clouds, in Star Wars V. Is it Bespin? Yeah, I think I'm right. Well, after the forest we came into a small area with brown lodges off the ground a lot and some stone buildings, a few churches and a big restaurant with an apple, but mostly little lodges and green flat long buildings.
I was texting Mary Beth, one of my friends, telling her all about this very cool area and that it was beyond belief snowing. That restaurant was off the ground, high with some stairs, and had a huge apple on a little man's body. It was the restaurant recommended by that waiter we had met the night before. This little area was actually the famed Cloudcroft. Not so much a city as it was a few lodges and like one restaurant. We got off were a perfect patch of snow was in front of a small church, and I picked up some, right off of the damp snow, which was like the heart of a cold woman, freezing and taking over your hand, the numbness and... you can't describe it.
There were some bushes with snow on it, and a small courtyard and events board that you see by a business, and a nice cross. Rebecca and I, not in very warm clothes or even with gloves on, had a little snowball fight, throwing the clumps of white sheet and chucking them at each other. I got Rebecca in the stomach, she got my back as I turned around to reload, and I video taped some of it. It was just one of those moments. Was just one of those moments. Just one of those moments. One of those moments. Of those moments. Those moments. Moments!
It was cold though, and we returned to the car, and left the kind of disappointing Cloudcroft. I was glad we went though, because it was fun to see all our first snow on the trip, and that it was cool to see the town. But, hold on. We weren't done. There was still more to come as I took pictures of ravines and many trees, as we talked about frontier people and how hard the winters would be in a place like this, especially no Internet nor phone service, and no people around here for miles. You know, New Mexico was interesting because we saw like no large town, and all the cool stuff they have there is rather far apart.
Well, passing by we started a game to try to find a moose, because we found none in either Maine or Vermont or New Hampshire, and so we were determined to either find it here or in the Northwest. There were enough signs telling about them. Mom, on our right side where there was a bit of an open space and another dirt road beneath us, spotted something as Rebecca looked at her side, which was just a big rock wall, fairly thick. What did she spot? Well, it was a moving something, that went over a log and up higher into the forest, going very fast on all four feet. It was thin and short, with two ears going up like a dogs, and was red and brown, with a nice tail. A fox!
It passed by, and luckily we all got to see it before it disappeared into the wood. Later we were on a swirly road with like no houses, cars, or anything except for forest around, and we went up an Indian reservation. We later took a long road out, away from the bad road that was impossible to go up. We saw some trailers along the mountain looking at the valley, which had a good view. They had their own little doctor, and a center for church, school and other activities. We saw some scary dogs. Leaving, we came back down into Alamogordo as the sun went down. It was okay in Cloudcroft, very pretty and kind of cool. We thought the city would be better, but it wasn't a city at all. I guess it's vacant in February, but it might be better in the summer months. We didn't go at that restaurant I mentioned earlier, for some reason. Maybe we just didn't want to, or the place didn't make our expertise. Well, hungry as ever, we tried to find a place to eat. We saw this Mexican Restaurant that was on the left side of the road, in a section of stores that were either out of business or had weird names, at the end by some trees. Walking in the threshold with a coffee table, we looked at this place. Surprisingly, it was all one big room with photographs and masks, other Mexican things like macraos and those big hats. Many tables took up the room. To the right, a counter with cookies and some history things, and a door to a restroom.
I went to the restroom, later talking to Mom and Dad about their worst and best dates, and also talking to Alyssa and taking apart a mystery of someone who gave her a card in the mail, and flowers. We solved the puzzlement at the end, thanks to my good deductive reasoning and investigative skills. The food proved bad though. I didn't like it very much. It shouldn't be called Mexican food. More like Americans who want to make good Mexican food, but can't do it because they just don't have it in them. Dad gave it a terrible review on TripAdviser or somewhere else, but when we payed the money up at that counter he thanked the lady for a good meal, lying like a thief. Although, I would never tell her to her face that it was a bad meal anyway. The sauce was like ketchup and the soups were bland and processed; it was all so fake. Well, after leaving Rebecca mentioned she wanted to watch some movies and get some, and Mom agreed. Dad wasn't for it at first; he wanted to try another restaurant! Even though it wasn't too good food, I was stuffed! Since it was Valentine's Day, Dad agreed to go, and we checked out this place called Hastings. The real Hastings is in England, and it was the battle in 1067 that cost one armies their lives. But this was a bookstore.
It had a big parking lot and a nice sign, with carts of books in the threshold before the bigger part. This wasn't just a bookstore. It was a media store, so it had movies, magazines, DVD's, and books. Mom wanted to buy a movie called 'To Kill A Mockingbird". We had both read the book and so wanted to see the movie. Around that day they had come up with a 50 year anniversary, and so we were going to see it on the special year. It had bonus features and everything. Dad was just there for being there, and would later go to a coffee shop in the bookstore, where he would just sit and surf his iPad. Saying goodbye to Dad, we went to find Mockingbird and some kid movies for Rebecca. I didn't really want anything; besides the RV was already full with books and I had gotten one that very day at White Sands. We walked down the left section of the store, where we saw all kinds of movies and CD's. I always love to go into bookstores or movies ones, because it is a time to say the ones you hate and the ones you love, and just to look around, without a thought in the world, among your favorite medium: books. I can't quite describe it. It's just something.
Well, Mom and Rebecca looked down a few aisles as I looked at an oldies section, with The Andy Griffith show and M.A.SH. and a host of different old stuff. A guy was at a square counter in the back of the place, with some music stuff behind him, and he was talking to this brown haired large man with a green woolen sky hat, and a tee. He was pretty young. The guy helped him, but Mom was in line before him so he went to show Mom "To Kill A Mockingbird". I didn't go with her. I noticed something about the guy. If you don't know, I love Sherlock Holmes, am very observant, and have an ear for accents. I simply said to him, "Happy Valentine's Day," as he nodded. Then I said, "I bet you like Saint Patrick's Day also."
I turned, waiting for my victim to detect what I meant at the witty remark. He took his eyes off the little CD in his hands, and said, in an Irish Accent, "You noticed me accent? Most people think it's a Scottish accent."
As he came over, I simply explained that I can't tell the difference between a Scottish or Irish, but I know accents pretty well. I asked him the difference. He told me that Scotts have more of a Brittle accent, kind of more like they needed to clear their throat. Mom returned, and said that she didn't detect any accent, and told me to show him that I both knew accent and could do a good Irish one. Kind of being shy, and awaiting the shoe to drop in the presence of an Irish man who might tell me my accent was nothing like the true people of the island, I gave them a small sample of my Irish Imitation. The man remarked with a smile and chuckle that it was the best imitation from an American of the Irish he had seen from a boy. I blushed, as he asked where we were from, and he said he thought we were from the south.
"You have a voice for accents too." Mom said. "We're from Georgia."
"Ah, well, here's my best country accent. 'Howdy, y'all!"' He actually had a very good southern accent; it was kind of amazing. Mom and him went on to talk about how their are rednecks everywhere, Mom presenting the people in Northern New York and the Irish guy mentioning that their were rednecks in the highlands of Ireland in the eastern area. Everywhere has a redneck. I liked this guy whom we were talking to. He was funny and young and smart, with many laughs shared. When I said, "What is your name, sir?" he answered,
"Me name's Ryan, and please don't call me sir. I'm not that old. I'm still young."
It was weird because on our first day in Alamogordo I had called an old lady by her first name and she had told me to say Miss, and so I was on my guard that time to say sir. It came from habit of addressing all people like that, save Linda. Oh yeah, I called you Linda, Linda. No I won't address you as Mrs. Linda. Well too bad! Sorry. Linda and I just had a ... fine, Mrs Linda and I just had an argument. Back to the blog.
Later in the conversation I'd call him sir again, and then he'd stop the talk and say, "I told you not to call me a sir" And later with a twinkle of his eye and smile, "Hey, what did I tell you?"
Somehow Mom and him got to talking about dyslexia and Ryan said he had dyslexia also, that he was taught by nuns and they had thought that to teach him they should just practice over the same things over and over again, but Ryan said that wasn't the way that you should teach kids with disabilities of his kind. I listened and nodded in deep thought while in the corner of my eye a T.V. flashed images of Avatar on and off, and my bladder felt like it needed to go to the restroom. Well, Ryan said to Mom that I was a bright child with good books I had read as I said in reply to something about Scotland, "Oh yeah I read a Robert Louis Stevenson book about Scotland called 'Kidnapped. It was a good book." I asked him a little about Irish History and he said,
"Alrighty, now we're talking about history (and he rubbed his hands together). I should know a bit(after I said I don't want to delay you or ask you hard questions) since I am a history major. So..." and then he spoke.
And I'll never forget that precious flow of words which the Irish possess, all the perfect notes on the lips, and the music with which their words are made. I can't describe it, but you sorta feel at ease when you hear an Irish person speaking, because their flow and punctuation are like no other country's. Mom excused herself, saying to stay where she had found me, and she took Rebecca to get her selection of children's movies. Ryan said goodbye, and went on to say that the Irish were pagan before all the Catholics came in and patronized them, and it was a lush land full of milk and honey, saying it was organized into counties and that the square feet wasn't the largest, and that Irish people are stubborn, and won't just be "kicked in the as..., well excuse me for the language." He then continued that he was a Catholic, and the Christianizing of the..."well, let me first tell you that in Northern Ireland 98% is Protestant and in Southern Ireland, which is a whole lot bigger, it is 98% Catholic and the rest Protestant." I may be wrong. Forgive me if I am, Ryan. But anyway, he talked about how it was all controlled by George in England.
"Oh yeah George III who was mentioned in Kidnapped."
"Well, wait... Oh no it was George II who..."
"Oh you must be talking about Charles I, the headless guy."
Most of our conversations were like this, back and forth, dialogue, wise minds exchanging info. It was a fun time for two history buffs in a bookstore to just talk about...well, history! He told me about how the Irish priests tried to rebel against the papal rule in Rome, with what time periods that aligned with, about the time of Henry VIII with all his wives. We talked about the sad history of Ireland, a fact Ryan had said earlier, that it was always being conquered and re-conquered by someone, vikings, the British, and how now they have a terrible relationship with England but pretend to be part of the CommonWealth of Nations, and how in the 20's they rebelled from England and gained Independence. The 6 counties in the North remain under British control. I told him about a book my mom had got in December at Once and Again Books, that it was called Ireland and was about storytelling and the history of Ireland in a novel. I have since then read the wonderful book, which had stories about Saint Patrick, William of Orange and a battle with King James, and so many other things up to the rebellion. It's rich detail formed into a story about Ronan who goes after a storyteller all the time and gets his stories and others from different people, it was such a realization that Ireland was full of such rich history and great folklore.
Mom returned, and I was asking Ryan if he liked Star Wars, seeing the movie in his hand. He was also talking about the potato famine in the mid 1800's, and then Mom said that we had to go. I was very sad, for I wanted to learn more of the already known Irish History, and Ryan was a very cool guy. I wrote down my blog address to him, and then he went off in the direction of the front. He came back later and handed me his card. He worked at a Mexican Bar, as a bartender. I learned that not from the car but from earlier when I said, "You should be a history teacher" and he deflected that, saying his profession. But when I said, "Thank you sir" he simply said, "Hey, what did I tell you?" and I answered, "See ya, man, dude, guy!" and he chuckled as he said goodbye. He thought the trip was a good idea.
Well, Rebecca got "Judy Moody's Not Bummer Summer" and "Dolphin Tale" with R.V. We went into a book section at the back of the bookstore, right corner. I asked Mom about Trinity Site, a thing Ryan had talked about, saying there was a Space Museum in Alamogordo, and that site was where they launched the first atomic bomb. It would be really cool to see the memorable spot of where man became nuclear... and changed warfare forever. But we were leaving tomorrow, so the possibility of it was not very large. We tried to get Coke or Pepsi a book Rebecca had liked (it was a question book like "Half Empty or Half Full") and we were sad to find out in Dallas at the Biblical Art Museum when we saw it repeated the questions. Even though it was a girls book, I had enjoyed it. Now Rebecca wanted to get it for Sophie, and so they were helped by a person as they tried to find it among all the rows of kids books.
I looked at Non Fictions of the Egyptians and Vampires, which were big and illustrated and had pouches with secret codes. Really cool. I fished among all the famous series', Percy Jackson, Artemis Foul, to name just a few. I went back to Dad as they finally found it, and we left.
So much Hunger Games! It's unbelievable how fast that series grew!
I'm glad we went to Hastings. The movies should be good, we thought, and it was awesome to meet Ryan. I went bed to that night, fearful of scary ladies named Linda. We watched American Idol. The next day would bring space, comets, Jules Verne, and Rose Valleys, mountain passes, and tons of guano. Also we would see a Silver City. Blog you later.
It was very nice to meet you, Ryan. Thanks for all the info.
"Top of the mornin' to ya, laddie!",
Andrew.
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