On a suitably blowy day, I at last remembered to take round the homeowners' association fees to the Eldorado Community Improvement Association's offices - not quite late. It's a mystery why the buildings here - I have my back to them - are built in Kansas ranch mode, and aren't remotely Northern New Mexican. As it is, the photo, in its black and white form, could have been taken at any time in the last hundred years, almost anywhere in the West. Or maybe not - when did parking spaces start to be designated with lines?
The windmill doesn't seem to rotate - or it would have been spinning wildly. We've been weather forecast gazing all day - we haven't left for lower land, yet, though we were tempted, for the assurance that we'd be able to get out - let's hope it doesn't snow too much in the night. One can never tell, in Eldorado.
And I made some excellent maple syrup flapjacks for the road. Only ... somehow I have never realized that wax paper isn't parchment paper, and in a hot oven, it melts and sticks. Oh. So I chilled them, and have been scraping them off, and now have a very tasty bag full of granola ...
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