Happenstance, life happens

Happenstancelife happens

APRIL 4, 2011

How You Can Help Spread theHappenstance

Word

e-mail theHappenstance

link to your friends and contact lists

Happenstanceis accessible at

www.happenstancelifehappens.com

Books byF.S. Vander Meer

Available atHappenstance • 614 8th StreetTome on the Range Bookstore

158 Bridge Street

Not Just Another Day is a series of dailyreflections that celebrate the gift of life.Based on the author’s Christian faithtradition the book uses Bible passages,prayers and readings to capture thecommon experience of living a life offaith in an ever-changing world.

In Future Imperfect conflicting forcescontrol two individuals seeking stabilityand sanity amid escalating political andenvironmental chaos. Their lives arefraught with lies, treachery, and an al-tered environment.

In The Ballad of Bawdy McClure shorthauler Jake Casey is confronted with theage old question: Who can you trust?From the opening scene in which hefinds the body of his murdered friend tothe end he is constantly questioning themotives of those closest to him.

Inside this Issue• From the editor, p. 4• A Musing, Celebrity, p. 5• Voices, Cindy Charlton, p. 6

Linzy Behrs, p. 6• Water Wise, p. 7• Backyard Artistry, p. 8• Garden Tour, p. 9• Rain Savers, p. 10Flower Power, p. 10• Witnesses to History, p. 11• Speech Therapy, p. 12• Featured Artist: Marti Nash, p. 14• Recipes & Chat, p. 15Happenstance Kitchen, p. 15• Memoir: Dona Josefita, p. 16• A Spanish Folk Tale, p. 17• Poetic License, p. 18• Yesterday, p. 19• Eclectically Yours, p. 20• Tiger Lilly continues, p. 22

TThhaannkkss ttoo aallll tthhee HHaappppeennssttaannccee,, lliiffee hhaappppeennss

ccoonnttrriibbuuttiinngg wwrriitteerrss aanndd ttoo ccooppyyeeddiittoorr SSaallllyy HHaannssoonn..

TThhiiss ccoouullddnn’’tt hhaappppeenn wwiitthhoouutt yyoouu..

http://www.vandermeerbooks.com

http://www.happenstancelifehappens.com

CCaallll ffoorr CCoonntteennttHHaappppeennssttaannccee MMaayy

A First Monday Publication

MMaayy 22 IIssssuuee •• SSuuppeerr MMoommss

WWhhoo aarree tthhee ssppeecciiaall wwoommeenn iinn yyoouurrlliiffee?? TThhiinnkk aabboouutt tthhaatt wwhheenn yyoouu

ssuubbmmiitt::• Poetry and Essays

• Short Fiction or Memoirs• Artist Feature

• Book and Entertainment Reviews

FFeeaattuurreess ttoo LLooookk FFoorr• Tiger Lilly•• A Musing

• Recipes & Chat• Happenstance Kitchen

• Eclectically Yours

IInn tthhee ccoommiinngg mmoonntthhss ssuubbmmiitt ccoonntteenntt ffoorr::

JJuunnee:: FFaabb FFaatthheerrssJJuullyy:: CCoooolleesstt CCoouunnttrryy

AAuugguusstt:: HHiissttoorryy’’ss MMyysstteerriieessSSeepptteemmbbeerr:: HHaappppyy HHaarrvveesstt

CCoonntteenntt ccoonnttrriibbuuttiioonnss wwiillll bbee tthhoouugghhttffuullllyy ccoonnssiiddeerreedd.. DDeeaaddlliinnee ffoorr ssuubbmmiissssiioonn iiss 22 wweeeekkss pprriioorr ttoo ppuubblliiccaattiioonn,, nnoo eexxcceeppttiioonnss..

HHaappppeennssttaannccee,, LLiiffee HHaappppeennss661144 88tthh SSttrreeeett •• PPOO BBooxx 118877 •• LLaass VVeeggaass,, NNMM 8877770011

550055 661177--00883399 hhaappppeennssttaannccee@@hhaappppeennssttaanncceelliiffeehhaappppeennss..ccoomm

Happenstance ContributorsPatrick Alarid was raised in southern California,transplanted to Las Vegas in 1986, and is a graduateof NMHU. He is employed as budget director at NMPERA in Santa Fe. Gardening, fly-fishing, renovatinghistoric homes, Jeanne-Marie, their dog Jack andtheir friends Lauren and Mia are his interests.

Barbara Perea Casey, born and raised in LasVegas, N.M., has a BA & MA from NMHU, and adoctorate from UNM. Retired after 38 years in edu-cation, she is the executive director of the CASAprogram. During her career she served in the NMLegislature representing Chaves and Eddy coun-ties. She has been married to Frank for 33 years.

Cindy Charlton, an inspirational and motivationalspeaker, lives in Denver, Colo., with her two activeteenage sons. She is a published columnist for in-Motion magazine, has just finished writing her firstchildren’s book, and is working on her memoirs.

Pamela G. Daves is a physical therapist with a lawdegree, or perhaps an attorney with a physical ther-apy degree. As a mother, wife and educator she hasmanaged to find balance in her life and still maketime to volunteer. Her interests and accomplish-ments are varied and reflect a woman who likes to

get things done.

Kim Delgado is a native born Las Vegan who hasbeen retired for 10 years. She was a state employeeand also worked for Las Vegas City Schools. Shehas written for the Las Vegas Optic and La Herencia

Robert Gallegos’ column, There was a Time, in theLas Vegas Times, was anticipated by readers eachweek. It harkened back to another age, and hisprose, rich with vernacular, felt like sitting down witha hot cup of tea and memories. The column comesback as Yesterday.

Connie Mack describes herself as a thinker of thingsand a doer of stuff. Each life experience produces apainting, sculpture, found art piece, poetry, greetingcard, cartoon, joke, or a story. She especially likesworking with children and people with chronic men-tal illness.

Niki Sebastian is an experienced writer, previouslypublished in Hermit’s Peak Gazette and other LasVegas NM area papers, as well as state and nationalpublications. She is re-engaging in article and fictionwriting, after a hiatus of several years.

Cover: Eleven in the Garden, by Lisa Lawrence, anartist who believes that “making art can be a greattool for understanding and influencing the worldthrough mentally dismantling what is seen and re-building that space as it was.”

FFrroomm tthhee eeddiittoorr……

Water as we all know continues to be a big issue inLas Vegas and across the southwest. Being waterwise is more important than ever if you want to

have any kind of garden at all. That’s why the four-page spreadin this month’s issue focuses on providing you with helpful in-formation about landscaping options. Of particular importanceto gardeners is an excellent guide to xeriscaping available freefrom the city’s utilities department. Copies are available at the12th Street office, along with other information about beingwater wise. Thanks to contributors Patrick Alarid, AndreaGottschalk, and Steve Reichert whose articles provide helpful in-formation and gardening alternatives. And thanks to city staffersMatt Tafoya and Sherry Ann Clancy for their assistance.

Fans of Cindy Charlton have a treat in store. Her I Charltonis a moving commentary on the realities of her life and a tributeto resilience.

Connie Mack’s Eclectically Yours is all about taking direc-tions, even when the directions might lead you down the wrongroad. It makes you think twice about telling people where to goand how to get there.

Ever wondered what it’s like to do an estate sale? LinzyBehrs’ insider outlook reflects the entrepreneurial spirit at itsbest.

Being on the periphery of history in the making can be excit-ing, but you would think it would also introduce elements of un-certainty. Not so for intrepid travelers Ursel Albers and FrancesCasey. Check out their story about witnessing the beginnings ofthe 2011 revolution in Egypt.

Niki Sebastian’s story about speech and language therapistsAdelaide Simpson and Bill Linzie gives an overview of the chal-lenges faced by people who have difficulty communicating.

Among my favorites this month are a memoir by BarbaraPerea Casey reflecting on the life of a woman whose memory re-mains a strong influence in her life today, and the amusingretelling of a Spanish folk tale by Kim Delgado.

Recipes and Chat from Pamela G. Daves returns to the Hap-penstance Kitchen with an Onion Pilaf. Also included is my mom’sEggy Potato Salad recipe, retrieved from my mental recipe box,and a great deviled egg recipe from my friend Mia Prieskorn.

This month’s El Zocalo featured artist is Marti Nash. She willbe talking about her work at the gallery’s April 9 open house.Check out her responses to our questions to get an glimpse ofher philosophy.

Robert Gallegos gives us another look at days gone by in anarticle about what was common to the backyard in many homesdecades ago.

Poetic License has works by stellar classic poets and pieces bySteven Fivecats, an eclectic poet with an unusual world view,and Nancy Philo, who ponders commuting.

April showers, bring May flowers, so they say. All I can sayis I hope so! Have a happy happening.

—Sharon Vander MeerEditor and Publisher


Vol 2, No. 6, April 4, 2011 Happenstance Publishing

Back Image: From clipart.comCopyright, Sharon Vander Meer, Happenstance PublishingSelect content may be used with appropriate attribution:

Sharon Vander Meer,[email protected] Cover Image: Eleven in the Garden, Lisa Lawrence

Some interior images from: clipart.comCopy Editor: Sally Hanson


A literary and general interest magazine

Submissions welcomeE-mail submissions to:

[email protected] will be selected based on general appeal to awide readership, with a focus on Las Vegas, NM, andthe area. Letters to the editor and comments related topublished content will be appreciated and consideredfor publication. If you do not want your letter published

please note that in your correspondence.

If you would like to subscribe please e-mail your request to

[email protected]

Happenstance Publishing614 8th Street • PO Box 187

Las Vegas, NM 87701www.happenstancelifehappens.com

Copyright 2011Blog: sharonvandermeer.blogspot.com

All rights are reserved by Happenstance, life happens,a digital magazine published by Happenstance

Publishing owner and publisher Sharon Vander Meer, in Las Vegas, N.M. Reproduction of contents in any

fashion without written permission from Happenstance,life happens, is prohibited. Happenstance, life happens,

is not responsible or liable for the loss of any unsolicited materials or incorrect dates or incorrectinformation in articles. The opinions expressed within

the pages (or web postings) of Happenstance, life happens, do not necessarily represent the views or opinions of the magazine. By-lined articles and editorial reports represent

the views of their authors.

http://sharonvandermeer.blogspot.com

http://www.happenstancelifehappens.com

The other day while I was getting my hair done Ihad an opportunity to look through Allure, a mag-azine I had never read before. As you might imag-

ine it was all about fashion, beautiful people, and insidergossip. Who are the “insiders?” Anyone who has ever beenstuck in the checkout line at any grocery store can tell youwho the “insiders” are changes from day to day, maybe mo-ment by moment.

Is that because collectively society has the attention spanof a gnat? Or is it because the so-called celebrities of the mo-ment are so lacking in substance that we can’t rememberthem from one second to the next unless we are repeatedlybeaten over the head with their images and stories of theirshallow lives? I mean, who really cares that Charlie Sheen issuch a self-centered egotist he can’t see beyond his pointy lit-tle nose? What should be alarming to all of us is that it tooka tragedy of monumental proportions (the Japan earthquakeand subsequent tsunami and nuclear disasters) to knock hisnonsense right off the front pages and off the airwaves.

Of course the word “celebrity” has become a bit of a joke.Mike Catherwood, a radio show host and the most recent“first” star to be eliminated from the Dancing With the Starscompetition, said it best. When interviewed about participat-ing on the program he said he often wondered how the starswere selected since most of them were relatively unknown.“Now,” he laughed, “I’m one of those people.”

There is a difference between being a performer/artistand being a celebrity. Really, how much of note has ParisHilton done to warrant the attention given to her? Are theantics of a disturbed Lindsay Lohan significant enough to re-quire repeated stories? What she needs is serious treatment,not constant attention that practically salivates over her prob-lem-ridden life.

In a world of war, tsunamis, nuclear power gone awry,poverty, idiotic despots, short-sighted politicians, and vio-lence—domestic and public—just how important are thelives and times of Brad Pitt, Angelina Joli, William Windsor(yes, the prince) and Catherine Middleton?

Their greatest value seems to come from selling maga-zines by the boatload. In that I guess they do have value.They support a multi-million-dollar industry that employslots and lots of people.

Aside from the content of Allure, which I found mildlydistracting—at least enough so that my time waiting for mylatest color to set seemed to fly by, I studied the advertising,most of it provocative and hedonistically opulent. The adssuggest that any and everyone on the planet can afford, andshould want, high end couture, breathtakingly beautiful and

overpriced jewelry, handbags the price of which could feeda family in Haiti for a year, and other oddments of extremeluxury. Even at my thinnest, youngest and best I can’t see mewearing Dolce & Gabbana or Versace, not at the pricescharged in their boutiques and online stores. Besides, haveyou seen what some of the clothes look like?

Give me Coldwater Creek and Chico’s any day. Not onlyare the clothes more affordable, they look better on real bod-ies. Fashion models who could all use a good dose of mashedpotatoes and gravy hardly represent what most healthywomen look like.

Or am I jealous? Do I wish I had a magazine like Allure,one filled with high-priced advertising that would allow meto belly up to the bar with the beautiful people?

Nah. It might mean having to actually speak to CharlieSheen, who I have always thought of as a no-talent hamwhose greatest claim to fame is being the son of an excep-tional actor.

As I write this the world mourns the passing of an actorwho was much more than a pretty face or a celebrity, awoman who I’m sure must have appeared in Allure at sometime in her nearly 60-year career. Elizabeth Taylor’s tumul-tuous life was far and away surpassed by her decades of fan-tastic performances. She was a star in the truest sense of theword. Her work left a mark on the film industry and her ad-vocacy for AIDS research and treatment set her apart fromthe run-of-the-mill would-be celebs who come and go.

Memorable performances in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Who’sAfraid of Virginia Woolf, Suddenly Last Summer, and Cleopatrarepresent a small sampling of the many films she starred in.She was beautiful, glamorous, cranky, temperamental, andhighly motivated. She didn’t need “face time” 24/7. Herwork and award-winning performances said it all.

The entertainment value of a magazine like Allure can’tbe denied. It is a wish book for ordinary people who can lookat its pages and dream. Dreams are good, even healthy; it’sthe skewed perspective that’s dangerous.

1 Timothy 6:10 doesn’t say that money is the root of allevil. In the New International Version it says, “For the love ofmoney is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager formoney, have wandered from the faith and pierced them-selves with many griefs.”

Nothing will drive a person to distraction as quickly astrying to buy high-priced happiness at the cost of everythingelse. Living in perspective is knowing that the most impor-tant celebrities in your life won’t be found in the pages of Al-lure, but sitting in the chairs next to you at the breakfast table.

—Sharon Vander Meer

A MUSINGCelebrity, what does it really mean?

Happenstance • www.happenstancelifehappens.com • April 4, 2011 •

By Cindy Charlton(Inspired by “Borges and I”by Jorges Luis Borges)

She used to sweep into theroom, the trill of the flute,the rich legato of the

strings. Her steps were often mis-placed and misguided, but thebeauty of her symphony trumped theintent of her destination. She always“arrived.” Her music has changedover time. The boom boom boom ofthe percussion has replaced the oncegraceful lovely flow. Each step nowhas its own rhythm, as she rocks herbody to and fro getting her where sheneeds to be. The rat-a-tat-tat of thesnare accompanies her on good days.Her steps, uneven and syncopated,are taken with purpose and intent.She walks with her head bowed, vig-ilant to each and every foot fall. Sheponders her path, ever the sightreader scrutinizing each note as theuneven ground, or crack in the side-walk can send her down, symbolscrashing around her head. But it’s thebass, the deep resonance of the bass,that drives her forward. With everybeat, her slow deliberate steps winher confidence and courage. The pur-pose of step has changed her sym-phony. Its new full courageoussound, its measures filled with differ-ent tempos, is performed daily. Sheno longer cares if her music is lovedor admired. She no longer has to “ar-rive.”

Editor’s Note: We asked Linzy Behrs to tellus why she enjoys what she does. Below is herresponse, a reflection of what it means to be anentrepreneur open to opportunity.

People spend a lifetime fillingtheir properties with antiquesand pretty things, and then one

day they wake up and find they no longerneed or want all the stuff they have accu-mulated. It’s time to remove these itemsand yet the property owner finds he or shedoesn’t have the ability to take on such amonumental task. Treasures, nicknacksand doodads take up space in the living area, attics and basements and decidingwhat to do with all that stuff becomes a worry.

There are many reasons a property must be cleared. Sometimes a loved onehas passed away and, if they haven’t already distributed their belongings totheir loved ones, the job falls to someone else. Or a property sells and the home’scontents must be stored, moved or sold. In both cases, we come in and help outby preparing, pricing and staging the items for sale.

For Mathew and me, the beauty of running estate sales is three-fold:• We help the person/family who needs to have a lifetime of belongings sold.• We get to remove the items in a way that’s fun and safe for those who have owned them. • We get to see the items go to new homes! The benefit to property owners is that they receive money for items they no

longer have a use for.Doing estate sales is like creating a gift shop on location, for a short period

of time. Everything gets sorted through, cleaned up, researched, priced and setout in a way that is appealing to the eye. Then a date is set for the communityto purchase the items. From antique furniture and silverware to tools and vin-tage toys, there’s always a hidden treasure for just the right buyer.

The morning the doors open it’s like watching a crowd of children rush toa Christmas tree full of presents on Christmas morning. It’s a mad dash to getthe best finds first!

If you’re interested in having a consultation regarding your estate or movingsale please contact Lion’s Heart Gifts and Estate Sales at 501 6th Street, phone505-425-3450; e-mail [email protected]

—By Linzy BehrsCo-owner of Lion’s Heart Gifts & Estate Sales

VVOOIICCEESSI Charlton, aNew Step, aNew Music

The Entrepreneur Spirit: Filling a Niche

Lion’s Heart Gifts and EstateSales provides an alternative wayto dispose of collected treasures.

Given that the mayor of Las Vegas, Alfonso Ortiz,recently commented in a public meeting thatwater rates are apt to increase up to 500 percent

in the not-too-distant future, the idea of having any kind ofyard—or water to drink for that matter—is daunting. Still,homeownership is a matter or pride and includes landscap-ing that makes sense. The key phrase here is “makes sense.”For many years having a lawn meant green grass and lots offlowers. In this era of going “green” in the ecologically re-sponsible sense, it means landscaping that requires littlewater and consequently less maintenance, or at least thekind that involves irrigation.

The city’s water department has an all-out conservationprogram that limits watering and encourages being waterwise.

“As we think of spring and planting this year, it’s im-portant to remember that Las Vegas is experiencing lowwater supplies,” said water conservation specialist and citystaffer Matt Tafoya. “The city is on Stage II for watering,which means watering can only be done on Tuesdays andSaturdays at odd numbered addresses between 6 a.m. and7 a.m. or between 8 p.m. and 9 p.m.; or on Mondays andFridays at even numbered addresses, between 6 a.m. and 7a.m. or 8 p.m. and 9 p.m.”

The city has barrels for catching rainwater for sale at$58 each.. The barrels have spigots attached to which hosesmay be connected for watering purposes. To encourage con-servation the city offers a rebate of up to $100 for high-effi-ciency (1.2-gallon flush) toilets as well as water-saving kitsfor customers who bring in their city water bill.

Tafoya said research into drought-resistant plants is amust for local gardeners. A free landscaping guide thatshows a variety of plants for dry climates is available at thecity’s utilities department. If having a lawn is a must, lookfor drought-resistant grasses like brama and buffalo grass.

For more information about being water wise checkout www.watertronics.com or www.rainxchange.com.

Also see Patrick Alarid’s Backyard Artistry, a water-wiseway to garden, and the story about entrepreneurs Steve Re-

ichert and Jean Jaureguiberry who created a business in re-sponse to the developing need for water catchment systems.

—By Sharon Vander Meer

The City of Las Vegas Utilities Department has a freexeriscape guide to aide gardeners in planning their gar-dens.

City Water Restrictions May Mean Rethinking How you Landscape


“As we think of spring and planting thisyear, it’s important to remember that LasVegas is experiencing low water supplies.”

—Matt Tafoya, City Water Conservation Specialist

www.rainxchange.com

http://www.watertronics.com/#/skyharveester

Daydreaming about warmer weather and sum-mer activities usually begins shortly after Christ-mas when I am just about ready for winter to be

over. The twelve weeks until spring’s warming weatherseems like a long time, but it is also a productive time forplanning warm weather projects, including the comingyear’s garden.

Planning a new, backyard garden needs a bit of imagi-nation; looking six months into the future and visualizingsomething where nothing exists tests the creative gene. Em-bracing that vision can help assure a gardener’s expectationsare reasonable and affordable, and can also help the backyardartist appreciate the amount of work necessary to make thatproject a reality.

Those who might need some help in developing a planfor a garden can look first to their neighbors for ideas aboutwhat grows well, where to shop and what mistakes to avoid.A good source of information can be found in local plantguides and catalogs where a plant’s size, color, planting in-structions and price can be refer-enced. Working with a catalog canhelp develop a budget and helpdetermine the size of the area forthe project.

Most backyards live in thepartial shadow of trees and otherbuildings. Most plants, especiallylow-water perennial plants, like allthe sun they can get. Althoughthere are many shade plants tochoose from, an idea of how thesun falls on your property willhelp determine the success of yoursun-loving plants. This is also agood time to determine whethersoil is adequate for the type ofplants that may be chosen for thearea. Soil amendments that holdmoisture, improve drainage andprovide nutrients can be found inmost garden centers.

A sketch of what the growerwants in a garden will help deter-mine where everything will go—

tall plants in the back, mounding plants towards the front—and color contrasts and complements that please the grower.

Care in noting the mature size ofplants will lessen chances of over-crowding.

Initial planning should also in-clude laying down a weed barrier,which will help keep the weeds toa minimum. Over the weed barrierit is just as important to applysome type of mulch. Pea graveland pecan shell mulch or shreddedtree bark keep the barrier fromshowing and, more important,keep the moisture in the soil andkeep the ground cool during theheat of summer. Placement of largestones can provide separation ofthe garden from pathways and alsoprovide accent and dimension toplanters.

Getting plants started duringthe first year will require more at-tention than in subsequent years;during the first year they will needregular watering if rains are unreli-

Backyard Artistry: Water Wise Gardening

TThhiiss ssppaaccee wwaass oonnccee aa mmiixx ooff ggrraavveell aanndd mmuudd.. NNooww iitt iiss aann ooaassiissiinn tthhee mmaakkiinngg,, aacccceenntteedd wwiitthh ppllaannttiinnggss tthhaatt aarree wwaatteerr wwiissee aanndd aatt--ttrraaccttiivvee.. GGaarrddeenneerr PPaattrriicckk AAllaarriidd rreeccoommmmeennddss aaddvvaannccee ppllaannnniinnggwwhheenn ssttaarrttiinngg aa llaannddssccaappiinngg pprroojjeecctt..

COUR

TESY

PHOT

O

Patrick’s favorite sun-loving perennial plants for Las Vegas

• Russian Sage• Salvia: May Night (purple)• Salvia: Raspberry Delight (scarlet red)• Jupiter’s Beard (red)• Agastache: Desert Sunrise and Hummingbird Mint (orange)• English Lavender (purple)• Penstemon: Coconino County (red-orange)• Hollyhock (various colors)• Sand Cherry (maroon leaves)• Butterfly bush (various colors)• Gaillardia: Arizona Sun and Burgundy (yellow and deep burgundy)Rudbeckia: Black-eyed Susan (yellow)

Favorite nurseries:• Santa Fe Green Houses• Newman’s Nursery Santa Fe

Getting plants started during the first year will require more attention than in subsequent years


— SEE BACKYARD ARTISTRY, P9 —

http://www.newmansnursery.com

http://santafegreenhouses.com/

Backyard Artistryable. This is where the generous use ofmulch can be effective in reducing wa-tering needs. Growers can also supple-ment their water supply by catchingand storing water from a roof. If yourhome already has a roof gutter, all youwill need is a rain barrel. For those witha smaller garden, a two- to five -gallonbucket in the shower will catch the coldwater normally going down the drain.A drip irrigation system on a timer isalso a good front-end investment thatwill save time and reduce water use in

the long run. A garden, laid down from scratch,

will take hard work to plan, research,construct and refine, but time investedduring this phase generally will meanless time maintaining. Nevertheless,don’t be afraid to change somethingthat is not working; gardens are a workin progress and they can change to bewhatever you want them to become.

Whatever is decided, it’s good toremember that prepping usually takeslonger than you might think; starting

too early might mean protecting plantsfrom April cold; weeds are the enemy;hindsight always makes you wish youwere ready for hail; pre-paying for ma-terials and labor might make you wishyou hadn’t done that; and watch yourtools and plants-thieves and vandalsrun thick in our town.

Last, on a positive note, show offwhat you have done and share whatyou have learned with others.

—By Patrick AlaridHappenstance • www.happenstancelifehappens.com • April 4, 2011 •

Warming Weather Means One More Season for Las Vegas Gardeners

The Citizens’ Committee for Historic Preservationis pleased to announce its first annual Home Gar-den Tour on June 25, 2011. This event will include

six home gardens in Las Vegas and is an opportunity to viewa variety of gardens in the community and to discover secretsof successful Las Vegas gardeners.

Six long months of winter’s grays and cold can seem tobe all too long for those who miss green in their lives. Butwisely used, winter can give gardeners a chance to plan andprepare for the first hints of spring. Warmer weather meansseeds to plant, weeds to till and the vision of the summer thatsees tall crops and warm colors. The CCHP would like to in-vite you to share in those visions and the hard work thatmakes gardens happen. The annual Garden Show will be atime to learn and appreciate the efforts of those who enjoythe green gifts of summer.

The CCHP, in response to interest and in cooperationwith six local gardeners, will be hosting the following gar-dens:

Fred Burrell 920 6th St.: Fred’s garden is a three-year-old garden that includes mature apple trees and a largemaple tree as a backdrop to his 1880s two story, rubble stonehouse. The 100-foot walkway from the sidewalk to the frontporch travels through a well-tended garden that includes adry riverbed, roses, daylilies, lavender, butterfly bushes andnumerous varieties of colorful and fragrant perennials.

Andrew and Barbara Feldman 924 6th St.: The Feldmangarden features lavender and a profuse spring display of ori-ental poppies. Later summer blooms include colorful beds ofcosmos and Jupiter’s beard. The use of stone accents thebright hues of oranges, reds and lavenders that capture theeye in this wonderful example of a rock garden.

Terry and Susie Mossman 920 5th St.: The Mossman

garden is two gardens, both examples of mature, low-main-tenance and water-wise gardens. The front yard includesstone and a generous use of sedums, iris and trees for sum-mer color. The backyard is a multi-level yard that includeslarge accent stone, mature trees and a combination of shadeand sunny environments that provide locations for a varietyof perennial plants. This site also includes a good example ofrooftop water harvesting and storage.

Tibor and Janet Remenyik 1021 8th St.: Tibor and Janet’slong interest in gardening is apparent in their well-main-tained, mature garden. The garden includes a wide varietyof vegetables in raised beds, perennial color and mature cacti.The multi-level garden includes stone and concrete retainersto both accent the garden and retain soil in this gently slopinggarden.

Bob and Ann Mishler 711 Coronado Dr.: The Mishlerbackyard vegetable garden can best be described as a supergarden, a garden that just might be the envy of backyard gar-deners who wish they had both the expertise and space toproduce a similar bountiful summer harvest. The gardenmakes extensive use of natural fertilizers and is notable forplants that produce well in the northern New Mexico cli-mate. From cool weather cabbage to tall corn, the back yardis a producer that is pleasing to the palate.

Patrick Alarid and Jeanne-Marie Crockett 1050 6th St.:The Alarid/Crockett garden enters its second year withperennial color and new trees beginning to make a footholdin this multi-level garden that focuses around a small back-yard pond. Extensive use of pea-gravel, moss rock and pecanshell mulch provides a contrast to the variety of color to beseen in this backyard and patio. The garden includes yarrow,Jupiter’s beard, mint hyssop and miniature roses along witha small raised bed garden.

—By Patrick Alarid

By Steve Reichert

Rain Savers was established in 2002 after the drought of2000. We are two individuals, Jean Jaureguiberry andSteve Reichert, who realized the need and importance of

harvesting rain and snow water from our roofs. In my work with Tierra y Montes Soil and Water Conservation

District, active harvesting of water from our houses and out build-ings along with passive harvesting of water on the land was just get-ting our attention around the year 2000. The more one learns aboutit and puts it to practice the more one is hooked on doing it. It is agreat feeling to hug a full tank of water that was captured from pastrains when everything around you appears to be bone dry

To give you an idea of just how much water you can harvest offyour roof, here are some simple calculations. (One square foot of

space yields .6 gallons from a one-inchrain.) To calculate how much comes offyour roof, multiply the length of thehouse by the width and then multiplythat by the .6 gallons to get a close ap-proximation of what will flow off thatroof from a one-inch rain.

Here’s an example: Say you had ahome that measured 25’ wide x 40’ long.25 x 40 = 1000 square feet. Now multi-ply the 1000 by .6 and you get 600 gal-lons from a one-inch rain.

We recommend to our customers, ifthey have the funds and space, that theypurchase a tank that can store 3 to 5inches, or 1800 to 3000 gallons of rain.This will help carry them through ourlonger dry periods. It doesn’t make

sense to buy a 550-gallon tank if your roof will pour 600 gallons ofwater down its downspout in a one-inch rain. It is disappointing tohave a full tank while the overflow rain runs down the street orsome arroyo.

We sell tanks from 300 gallons to 5000 gallons for above groundstorage. Costs vary based on tank size and installation time. Thepolyethylene plastic tanks are forest green in color, which blendsquite well with our surroundings, and are UV treated to withstandintense sunny locations. The dark pigment also hinders algaegrowth inside the tanks.

Passive harvesting is simply catching the water as it flowsacross your land starting at the high point to the lowest and last el-evation on your property. This can be done in terraces, swales,mulch or simply a healthy native ground cover that slows the flowand allows it time to soak into the ground and down the paths of theplant’s roots. For more information call Jean (505-425-6012 or 718-9459) or Steve (505-425-5394 or 429-5856).


PHOTO: CINDY COLLINS

No, Flower Power isn’t about the ‘60s! It’sabout a wonderful plant sale and themajor fundraiser of the Las Vegas First

Independent Business Alliance (LVFIBA). The plantscome from a nursery in Colorado and are suitable tothe climate in Las Vegas. The potted plants are well-established and include bedding plants, vegetables,herbs, flowers, shrubs and grasses. Each plant is ratedfor its watering needs and sun/shade preferencesmaking it easy for you to choose what will do best inyour yard. Most ornamental plants offered at this saleare selected to suit our arid environment and water-conscious gardening.

Growing your own plants is a fun and highly ed-ucational tool for kids and adults alike. You learn tocare for the environment and what it means to accom-plish something with basic input to sustain nature. Alittle love, a little light, a little water and you have arecipe of nourishment for all life.

By purchasing plants from this sale you drawgreat joy from the beauty flowers and vegetables canbring to your own yard, and you give support to themission of the LVFIBA, an organization that pro-motes shopping locally. The vitality of a town de-pends on the survival of independent localbusinesses. Your support is highly appreciated.

This year’s Flower Power will be held in the backyard of Stuff, an antiques and collectibles business at623 12th street in Las Vegas, N.M. The plants will ar-rive sometime in the week following Mother’s Day(the week of May 9).

Arrival of the truck is unpredictable so pleasekeep your ears and eyes open for radio announce-ments and posters around town announcing arrivalof plants. Most important, thank you once again foryour support!

—Andrea Gottschalk is owner of Unikat Fine Jewelry,and a business member of Las Vegas First IndependentBusiness Alliance, sponsor of Flower Power.

First Person Positive: EntrepreneursRespond to Community Need

HHaavviinngg aann aaddeeqquuaatteessiizzee ttaannkk ffoorr yyoouurr hhoommee iiss aammuusstt..

PHOT

O: ST

EVE

REIC

HERT

Flower PowerReturns to LV

Two weeks into their trip to exoticEgypt, Las Vegans Ursel Albers andFrances Casey were witnesses to the

largely non-violent uprising that resulted in theresignation of long time Egyptian presidentHosni Mubarak.

The two women are seasoned travelers withabout 40 trips abroad between them. While theirtour group scarcely experienced a ripple in sched-uled activities, Ursel and Frances said it was inter-esting to be present at an event with so muchpotential to bring about change.

From her ninth floor balcony at the CairoMarriott, Frances snapped photos that capturedsmoke from tear gas bombs launched at thehordes of protesters on the bridge that spans theNile.

“We were within ten blocks of the activity,”she said.

Were they afraid?“No,” said Ursel. “This was not a violent revolution.

They were so civil, they stopped the protests in observance ofprayer.”

Frances shrugs at the question. “I just thought, ‘What canyou do?’ The tour company took good care of us. We werenever in danger.”

“Que sera, sera,” Ursel said. “We were told not to leavethe hotel. We were prisoners.” She pauses and her grey eyestwinkle. “Prisoners in the lap of luxury.”

The hotel’s one concession to the turmoil eruptingaround the city of more than 20 million was to close the shut-ters in the room where a going awayparty was given for people leaving thetour.

Ursel said the hotel staff seemedunaffected by what was going on be-yond the walls of their workplace. Sheattributes that to the overwhelmingpoverty in Egypt, a contributing factorin the 2011 revolution. She reflected onthe docile and subservient nature ofthe people she encountered. “Thesefolk were grateful for anything. If yougave a tip you were guaranteed excel-lent service.”

Technology is said to have sparkedand carried the revolution, leading one

to believe it was an intellectual exercise driven by a desirefor change. What kind of change remains to be seen.

“The president is gone,” Ursel said. “Now the militaryis in charge. Nothing has changed”

Demonstrations started on Tuesday, January 25, whenthousands took to the streets to protest poverty, unemploy-ment, and government corruption. The demonstrations,marches, acts of civil disobedience, and labor strikes by mil-lions of protesters from a variety of backgrounds demandedthe overthrow of a regime that has stifled social change, ed-ucation and access to economic prosperity for the masses.

Ursel and Frances came away from the experience phys-ically untouched by the passion and sporadic violence thatdid occur. Each of them did have an opportunity to meditate

on their visit, leaving Ursel with theconviction that she will be unlikely toreturn, and Frances raring to furtherexplore a mysterious land rich withhistory and antiquities.

“It is rich in antiquities,” Urselsaid, “but not an attractive land. It’sflat and dirty; the poverty is over-whelming.”

“I’ve heard about the treasures ofthe pyramids since I was in school,”Frances said. “It’s intriguing to seethem. I want to know more. I will goback.”

—By Sharon Vander Meer


FFrroomm hheerr 99tthh fflloooorr bbaallccoonnyy aatt tthhee CCaaiirroo MMaarrrriiootttt,, FFrraanncceess ssnnaappppeedd pphhoottoosstthhaatt ccaappttuurreedd ssmmookkee ffrroomm tteeaarr ggaass bboommbbss llaauunncchheedd aatt pprrootteesstteerrss..

UUrrsseell aanndd FFrraanncceess wweerree ssuurrpprriisseedd bbyy tthheeEEggyyppttiiaann rreevvoolluuttiioonn bbuutt nneevveerr ffeelltt tthhrreeaatteenneeddoorr ffrriigghhtteenneedd..

Las Vegas Women Witnesses to Historic EventsTemporary prisoners in the lap of luxury

PHOTO: FRANCES CASEY

COUR

TESY

PHOT

O


“There are so many different ways that thebrain can be affected and,in turn, affect a child’s

ability to learn language.”—Adelaide Simpson

Speech: Therapists Help People of All Ages

Talking is an activity we take forgranted. Everyone talks. Childrenlearn to talk—and are adorable in their

slips, idiosyncratic pronunciations, and uniquevocabularies. Unless, or until, they fail to outgrow them.

Talking is an activity we take for granted—until a strokeor other form of brain injury robs us of the ability to formspeech sounds, or disrupts the learned connections betweenobjects and the word symbols that stand for them.

Talking is an activity that speech and language therapistshave learned cannot be taken for granted. There are so verymany ways in which the ability to use speech can breakdown. Most people recognizethat a hearing loss makes it dif-ficult to learn to speak, henceASL or American Sign Lan-guage. Some people realize thatit takes a lot of different mus-cles working in concert to formintelligible speech sounds, andparalysis of any of these mus-cles will cause speech defects.

Bill Linzie and AdelaideSimpson are speech and lan-guage therapists who havespent their entire careers assist-ing those who cannot formspeech sounds or use languagein the usual way.

“It’s odd that Bill and Istarted at opposite ends of theage spectrum, and are still atopposite ends, but reversed,” Adelaide said in a recent inter-view. “He began working in early intervention and now is

helping adults, especially those who have swallowing disor-ders, while I spent much of my career with adults and nowwork mostly with children.”

Adelaide began her therapy practice in Florida teachingindividuals how to regain speech after a laryngectomy (re-moval of the larynx, or voice box). “They were a fun crowd.Most had been heavy smokers and party people and now,post surgery, they still liked to hang out together and supporteach other. They were committed to esophageal speech and

to encouraging each other tolearn it.”

Once she moved to NewMexico, to Santa Fe initially,Adelaide adapted in the waythat most immigrants to thestate must do—learning to bea jack-of-all-trades to make aliving. For her, this meant be-coming a traveling therapistthrough Pathways in Santa Fe,working with individuals withdevelopmental disabilities, butalso participating in homehealth care to continue her in-volvement with geriatrics.

Always interested in neu-rology, Adelaide’s practicesince her move to Las Vegas,N.M. in 1998, has become al-

most exclusively focused on learning disabilities. “There are so many different ways that the brain can be

OOllddeerr cclliieennttss ooff ssppeeeecchh tthheerraappiissttss mmaayy bbee rreecceeiivviinngg ttrreeaattmmeenntt aass aa ccoonnssee--qquueennccee ooff aa llaarryynnggeeccttoommyy ((rreemmoovvaall ooff tthhee llaarryynnxx,, oorr vvooiiccee bbooxx))..

BING PHOTOS

CClliieennttss uussuuaallllyy ccoommee iinnttoo ssppeeeecchh tthheerraappyy tthhrroouugghh pphhyyssii--cciiaann rreeffeerrrraallss,, bbuutt ppaarreennttss mmaayy nneeeedd ttoo bbee aasssseerrttiivvee ttoo aassssuurreepprrooppeerr ddiiaaggnnoossiiss aanndd ffoollllooww tthhrroouugghh..

BING PHOTOS


affected and, in turn, affect a child’s ability to learn language.Figuring out exactly where the problem lies, and then how tohelp the child work around the difficulty, is always exciting,and always a challenge,” she said.

Adelaide works with a child’s parents orcaregivers as well, teaching them how toteach the child, since successful therapy is amatter of daily practice and constant rein-forcement.

Psychological components of languagedevelopment cannot be overlooked. Ade-laide is especially happy about one formerclient, a man in his sixties who had lived allhis life in institutions or group homes, andwho said very little. Then he was moved intoa family-based living environment where hehad “his” room and “his” things. “He startedtalking and didn’t need me any more,” Ade-laide says with a big smile.

Self-esteem in his clients is important toBill Linzie also. Trained in neuropsychologyand the remediation of the effects of strokesduring his master’s education, Bill describeshis immersion into the working world as apediatric speech therapist as “a huge shift,intense on-the-job training. Anatomically and neurologicallykids are as different from adults as a caterpillar from a but-terfly.”

Bill recalls fondly a young man who began his therapy souncertain and afraid that he wouldn’t leave his house, butwho proudly ordered for himself at a coffee house before histherapy sessions ended.

After many years in Las Vegas and a practice focused onchildren, Bill developed a special interest in swallowingproblems, which led him back to working with adults “be-cause no one else was doing it.”

Bill said that with swallowing, every case is unique.“And the choice of therapy tools is growing. Food is so im-portant, socially and psychologically, not just physically. If Ican get someone eating again who hasn’t been able to swal-low, it’s a big deal. They can enjoy the tastes of food, even ifthey still need to be on tube feedings to get enough nutri-tion.”

Nutrition needs, and the challenge of providing a bal-anced diet to people with different swallowing problems, ledBill to taking responsibility, at an in-patient residential facil-ity, for seventy-five different specialized diets, each one sub-ject to constant change as the client’s health changed. Now, inhis capacity as speech specialist at Alta Vista Regional Hos-pital, Bill spends parts of most working days at the hospitalradiology department, working with the technicians there toobserve, analyze and develop therapy programs for peoplewith swallowing problems, and to recommend the textures

and preparation of foods they can safely eat.Speech and language therapists are both diagnosticians

and teachers. Using a variety of tests and tools, they identifythe types of disruptions to muscles, and to mental processes

such as sequencing, sound discrimination, ormemory which contribute to an individual’sspeech or language problem. Then they makeuse of—or develop—tools to teach the clienthow to overcome or to work around the prob-lem. Whether in a child with unique develop-mental problems, or an adult recovering fromstroke, therapy is essential because communi-cation is so important. Everyone needs to beheard.

Adelaide and Bill are enthusiastic about avariety of language-related interests. “Sinceit’s been in the movies—especially since TheKing’s Speech—more people are becomingaware of speech and language therapy now,”Bill said. “I’ve been working in Las Vegas solong that now sometimes I’m seeing the kidsof kids I worked with when I first startedhere. Or I’m seeing the parents of those kidswho are old enough now to be having strokes.The neurology of it fascinates me. There’s so

much still to learn.”“I see so many more problems with language use, and

with reading,” Adelaide said. “It’s really important for par-ents to turn off the TV and talk to their children and espe-cially to sit and read with them. It improves literacy, and alsoprovides a chance to catch problems early so they can be cor-rected before the child struggles, falls behind, and developspoor self-esteem.”

A delay in recognizing speech and language problems inindividuals also causes a delay in treatment. School-basedtherapists are few and many districts have none. Teacherswith too many children rarely have the time to distinguishthe source of a child’s academic problems. Thus diagnosisoften comes late, and remediation has to address the emo-tional and behavioral problems that result when a personwith a language difficulty is considered slow, or lazy.

Bill and Adelaide agree that teachers and parents needto be alert to the possibility of a language deficit. They stressto parents to be alert, seek out resources, and push for testing.They encourage them to “buck the system,” and advocateas hard as necessary to get testing and treatment.

Referrals for services provided by Adelaide and Bill mostusually come through physicians. For more informationabout services provided by Adelaide contact Rainbow RoadTherapy Inc. at 426-8095. Bill may be contacted through AltaVista Regional Hospital Therapy Services, 426-3500 (mainhospital number).

—By Niki Sebastian

The movie, “The King’sSpeech,” has brought atten-tion to speech and languagetherapy.

This month’s featured artist,Marti Nash, is a multi-talentedindividual with wide-ranging

interests. Below are her answers to Happen-stance questions about her life as an artist.

H:What is your art medium?M: Oil, mixed media, printmaking.H:How long have you been doing this?M. I have a natural inclination/desire

to translate what I see and feel into twodimensional work. This begins as drawing,usually.

H: Are you self-taught or formallytrained?

M: Formal training at The Art StudentsLeague, New York City, The Corcoran School of Art, Wash-ington, D.C., culminating in a B.A. degree at San Jose StateUniversity, San Jose, Calif. Otherwise, self-taught in an on-going, everyday manner.

H: What gets you excited about your art and what in-spires you?

M: Inspiration comes with feeling connected to a worldwider than my own narrow consciousness through concen-trated observation. Subject matter is not the im-portant element; the bigger, basic questions weask ourselves can be pondered in a round stonejust as in a ravaged face. But, beyond content, I seemaking art as play. Diane Ackerman, in her book,Deep Play, describes the many ways humans seeka balanced, creative, focused state of being. Draw-ing, painting, the pleasure of using tools in print-making—‘building’ something—is my way.

H: You are the El Zocalo featured artist forApril. What will you be doing for yourlecture/demonstration?

M: El Zocalo’s monthly theme for April is“The Poetry of Art.” As the featured artist I willshow work I hope reflects this theme and talkabout “the feel of life” that is common to poetry inany form. We will encourage visitors to writeshort haiku poems based on art in the gallery, orwhatever they choose. Also, I will show woodcutblocks used to print the illustrations in my chil-dren’s book, There Is A Tree, and describe the print-ing process.

H: Tell me something about yourselfthat expresses why you are an artist.

M: I grew up in a large, working classfamily in New Jersey, my single-parentmother determined to keep us out ofpoverty. In such a difficult environmentbeing an artist was a foolish aspiration, butone that satisfied my need to create my own,more stable world.

H:Do you work at another profession orvocation or is art the focus of your workinglife?

M: For the last several years I have beenable to focus on being a painter and print-maker. I have worked as a commercial artistand many years as a high school soccer

coach in Evergreen, Colo. H: What brought you to Las Vegas and how long have

you been here?M: In 2007 my husband, Tom, and I moved to Las Vegas

from northern Vermont. We returned to the west to be closerto our two daughters, one in Colorado and one in northernCalifornia. Finding Las Vegas made the decision to pack upagain an easy one.

El Zocalo Featured Artist: Marti Nash

Marti Nash and Marco

“High Noon” 28” x 35” Oil on Canvas, Marti Nash

Art: The Pleasure of “Building” Something

PHOTO: TOM NASH


My mother was a wonderful cook. It was rare foranything to get thrown away because wepretty much ate everything that hit the

table. The food was good, yes, but of equal importancewas that you didn’t deprive a Chinaman on the otherside of the world by not CLEANING YOUR PLATE!And yet at Easter there were all those eggs to deal with.Mom’s perennial solution was to make a huge potato salad,chock full of celery, chopped dill pickles, chunky boiled pota-toes and as many eggs as possible. Below is my interpretation of her recipe since sherefused to write anything down. A pinch of this, a little of that... her on the fly cookingmethods were unfailingly delicious but hard to duplicate. We were a family of fivechildren so big batches were a must.

Mom’s Eggy Potato Salad For a Crowd

10 to 12 russet potatoes, boiled and cut into chucks1 doz boiled eggs (this is where those Easter eggs come in handy) diced1 C diced dill pickle1/2 C finely chopped onion1 C diced celery1 1/2 to 2 C real mayonnaise1/4 to 1/2 C yellow mustard(The amount of mayonnaise and mustard you use will determine how “soupy” the dressing on your salad is.)Salt and pepper to taste

Boil the potatoes and eggs, and set aside to cool. Meanwhile mix the dressing thor-oughly and refrigerate so flavors blend. Peel and cut up the cooled potatoes; set aside.Peel eggs and chop up, adding salt and pepper to season. Add the eggs to the dressingand mix thoroughly. Add potatoes and mix so dressing is distributed completely,adding salt and pepper to suit your taste. Serve with baked ham, green peas and tossedsalad.

Still have eggs left? My friend Mia Prieskorn makes a mean deviled egg. Like Momshe tends to mix and mix until it tastes right, but she agreed to share her recommendedrecipe with Happenstance readers.

Mia’s Deviled Eggs1 dozen hard boiled eggs; halve and separate yolks from whites1/4 C mayonnaise2 Tbls. brown spicy mustard3 Tbls. regular yellow mustard1 tsp Lawry’s seasoned salt1 tsp Jane’s Krazy Mixed-up seasonings (available at Whole Foods).

Mix mashed egg yolks with other ingredients. Taste to determine if it needs moremoisture or more “punch,”( seasoning). Add more mustard and mayonnaise asneeded and seasonings to suit your taste. After putting the yolk mixture into the eggwhites sprinkle with dried dill weed for color and flavor.


Afew weeks ago, myfriend Gilbert wasdriving his truck down

12th Street when he saw a woman,who was being attacked by three pitbulls. The dogs apparently had es-caped from their pen. He pulled tothe side of the street and grabbedhis ladder from the back of his truckand began to defend the woman byhitting the dogs with the ladder.

Someone had called the citypound and ultimately the dogswere taken away leaving thewoman with only a few scratches,thanks to the quick action of Gilbert.I thought that following this chat, Ishould have a recipe about HeroSandwiches, which feature hamand Swiss cheese, but instead, I de-cided to give you a recipe I haveused so often for entertaining fromone of my favorite cookbooks byGladys Taber of New England’sStillmeadow Farm. I am giving youa version that serves three.

Onion Pilaf1 ½ C rice½ medium onion, sliced thin¼ C olive oil/butter3 C brothSalt & pepper

Melt shortening in heavy skillet(I use cast iron) and add rice. Braisewell until shortening bubbles. Fryonion in separate skillet untilgolden. Mix with rice. Add brothand seasoning. Stir well. Bake cov-ered at 375 - 400 degrees for 30 min-utes. Stir well. Bake 10 minutesmore.

RREECCIIPPEESS && CCHHAATT

Featuring Pamela G. Daves

What To Do With Those Boiled Eggs!Happenstance Kitchen, by Sharon Vander Meer


Dona Josefita was always a bit of an enigma to me.I used to watch her from the front porch at mygrandmother’s house as she worked incessantly

in her yard. Her head wrapped in a bandanna, the few greywisps of hair peeking out at her temples and forehead wereproof that she was getting old. Her face and hands (whichwere the only parts of her body that were not clothed) werewrinkled and tanned, like soft, worn leather.

La vecina, as my grandmother called her, was tall and thin.She would have made a great model, I used to think to myself,as she walked slowly through her garden, gracefully pickingthe miniature carnations that she had grown for many years.

During the summer, I would get up early in the morning,but Dona Josefita had already walked through the neighbor-hood, collecting pieces of cardboard, small twigs or little bot-tles. She would burn the paper products and the twigs in hercoal and wood stove in a corner in the small kitchen. The bot-tles lined every shelf and window sill in every room of herhouse. I loved to visit. She always had something interestingcooking on the stove top—a chunk of beef; perhaps a chicken,or maybe even her laundry or a batch of her wonderful lyesoap. The lye soap would wash anything to a sparkling white.Dona Josefita would give my grandmother a big, square hunkof soap and I would have to use it to scrub clean the kitchenfloor, especially around the area of the coal bucket.

I remember visiting Dona Josefita. She would always greetme with a pat on the back and a gesture with her chin for meto sit at the kitchen table. This one afternoon, she had a hugecarton, like a half of a refrigerator box, in the corner of thekitchen next to the stove. I could hear hundreds of little chirp-ing noises coming from the box. I was so surprised and excitedto look in the box and see hundreds of baby chicks, little yel-low balls of fluff jumping over each other trying to get to theirwater and tiny cups of feed. She started laughing at me andpicked up a chick and placed it in my hand. “¿Te gustan?” sheasked.

Yes, I liked them very much! “Sí, qué bonitos están!” I ex-claimed. She agreed that they were beautiful creatures that sheloved to raise. She asked me to come to the “gallinero” withher. As we entered the chicken coop, she gently lifted the roost-ing chickens and started putting the eggs gingerly into her up-held apron. She put four eggs into the large pockets of mydress. To be honest, I was horrified—the eggs weren’t exactlyclean. I didn’t say anything except to utter a feeble, “Gracias.”

We walked back toward the house and stopped at the gar-den. She pulled out some garlic and onions, shook the dirt offthe bulbs and put the plants into my dress pocket too. By then,I just smiled and thought to myself how wonderful it must benot to worry about being perfectly clean.

My grandmother and Dona Josefita had a good friend-ship. They visited with each other daily. Grandma would takeher pieces of salt pork to cook with her beans or an occasionalpound of hamburger, and Dona Josefita kept us supplied witheggs. Every once in a while during the hot summer months,Grandma would be outside watering the lawn and Dona Jos-

efita would wander over. The elderly women would sit on thefront porch bench and drink large glasses of iced tea with lotsof sugar. When I had finally turned twenty-one, Grandmawould send me to buy a quart of Coors beer. I would pourthem each a glass and they would drink their beer slowly asthey talked about the weather, the high price of wood and howCorina across the street was always yelling at the kids.

I never knew Dona Josefita to be angry; except for the timethat her daughter, Flora, came over and cleaned house for her.Dona Josefita was very upset that Flora had taken all her bot-tles and thrown them away. She loved her bottles! Didn’t Floraunderstand that? The dear old lady stood in her kitchen andlooked at the empty window sills and shelves and looked sosad. She ran her hands over the empty wood and said in awhisper, “Esa Flora.”

I was so stricken with grief to see her in such a melancholystate that I walked home with a lump in my throat. I was de-termined to do something to help Dona Josefita. I searchedthrough my chest of drawers and found an empty Avon per-fume bottle shaped like a poodle begging on its hind legs. Itook it over immediately and told her that she could start hercollection again. She smiled and graciously thanked me. Sheheld the bottle in her hands as if it were some prized posses-sion, as she walked me to the edge of her property andwatched as I crossed the street.

It’s heart rending to think that the years went by and I justtook Dona Josefita for granted. I figured she would always bethere, feeding her chickens or collecting paper. She always letme walk through her property on the way to Andy’s store tobuy a loaf of bread or a candy bar. She never complained whenI would chase her chickens off the front lawn at Grandma’shouse or when the neighborhood children would run throughher yard and scare the chickens. Dona Josefita was a gentlesoul with a kind word and gesture for everyone. She was gen-erous with her possessions and gave away the fruits of herlabor freely, without hesitation.

I had been in Roswell for many years when I learned frommy sister that Dona Josefita had died. I think a little piece of medied that day too. It was then that I realized I had really lovedthat beautiful old woman. Somehow she had worked her wayinto my heart and had become a part of my life. I had learnedmuch from her. I learned no matter how poor you may appearto be, if you share what you have, you are rich in spirit andGod will bless you. I learned there was a lovely human beingwho had no enemies in the world because she was a friend toall. I learned there are things more important in life than hav-ing a perfectly clean house with fancy dishes or tablecloths.

Dona Josefita taught me so much about life and living andthe most wondrous thing of all is that she did it just by beingherself. Now, more than thirty years later, I drive by the oldneighborhood and I can still picture her slowly walking downthe street looking downward for some treasure she could takehome with her. I don’t think she ever knew that the real treas-ure was Dona Josefita herself.

—By Barbara Perea Casey

Dona Josefita: A memoir


When I was growing up my motherwould read stories to me from anold,beat-up Spanish book. How I

wish I had that book now. My mother spoke andread only Spanish so of course that became my firstlanguage.

I would look at pictures in the book and thenchoose a particular story for her to read to me. Forsome reason, the only story that stuck with me wasone about a woman who was very stingy. The storywent like this.

Once upon a time there was a woman whobaked bread to earn a living and sold it in the vil-lage where she lived. Once a week she would getup extra early to begin preparations and make sureshe had enough wood in the house to keep thestove going.

After kneading the dough a couple of times,she would shape the loaves and wait for them to rise beforeputting them into the oven. One day while she was goingthrough this process there was a knock at her kitchen door.She opened the door and there stood a man who looked toher like a vagabond. Annoyed, she asked him what hewanted.

The man replied, “I will take any food you can spare. Ihave traveled a long distance and I am very hungry.” Thewoman then said, “I am very busy baking but if you want towait I will give you a loaf ofbread.”

The man retreated to theshade of a tree where hequickly dozed off. Mean-while the woman placed thefirst batch of loaves in theoven, making sure sheshaped a smaller loaf to give to the man. Her kitchen waspretty warm by now so she left the door open. When the firstbatch came out of the oven she placed the bread on the tableto cool and noticed that all the loaves were the same size.

The smell of bread reached the dozing man and hequickly made his way to the back door and asked, “Can Ihave some bread now?” Not wanting to give him a large loaf,the woman replied,” You will have to wait for the secondbatch which I am putting into the oven now.”

Disappointed, he went back to the shady tree and satdown. Before he fell asleep again he noticed that several

magpies had gathered in the branches above him. Mean-while the old woman went about the business of bread bak-ing confident that a smaller loaf would be in the next batch.

Who knows how much time had passed before the manwoke up and noticed that magpies were going and comingout of the woman’s kitchen. He walked to her door andhollered, “May I have some bread now?” There was no replyso he repeated his question. He noticed that there were nu-merous loaves on the table but the woman was nowhere tobe found.

The man had his fill ofbread and took a loaf withhim as he made his way to thevillage square. He shared hisstrange experience with thepeople gathered there as theylistened with great interest.

Finally one person in the crowd asked him if the womanbaking the bread was dressed in black and wearing a whiteapron. They promptly agreed that the woman, who wasknown for being very stingy, probably turned into a magpiefor that very reason.

The vagabond went on his way enjoying the deliciousbread and pondering the story of the stingy woman and themagpies.

Obviously the story was meant to teach the importanceof sharing. I still wish I had that old, beat-up Spanish story-book.

—As retold by Kim Delgado

The Stingy Woman: A Spanish Folk TaleCould this story have come from the magpie’s tendency to scatter-horde, creating food caches in the ground for selfish use? You be the judge.

God’s GardenBy Dorothy Frances Runey

The kiss of the sun for pardon,The song of the birds for mirth,One is nearer God’s heart in a gardenThan anywhere else on earth.

A BeginningBy Steven Fivecats

today marks a beginning.tomorrow an end.times exist only inthis momentand that yesterdayis faded todays.

Chinese Proverb“If you want to be happy for an hour, get drunk;If you want to be happy for three days,get married;If you want to be happy forever, make a garden.

Points to Ponder

Happiness is to hold flowers in bothhands. (Japanese saying)

Almost any garden, if you see it at just theright moment, can be confused with par-adise. (Henry Mitchell)

If we had no winter, the spring would notbe so pleasant. (Anne Bradstreet)

In all things of nature there is somethingmarvelous. (Aristotle)

Wisdom is oftentimes nearer when westoop than when we soar. (WilliamWordsworth)

PPOOEETTIICC LLIICCEENNSSEEUnfolded Out of the Folds

By Walt Whitman

Unfolded out of the folds of the woman, man comes unfolded,and is always to come unfolded;

Unfolded only out of the super best woman of the earth, is to come thesuper best man of the earth;

Unfolded out of the friendliest woman, is to come the friendliest man; Unfolded only out of the perfect body of a woman, can a man be form’d

of perfect body; Unfolded only out of the inimitable poem of the woman, can come the

poems of man—(only thence have my poems come;)Unfolded out of the strong and arrogant woman I love, only thence can

appear the strong and arrogant man I love; Unfolded by brawny embraces from the well-muscled woman I love, only

thence come the brawny embraces of the man; Unfolded out of the folds of the woman’s brain, come all the folds of the

man’s brain, duly obedient; Unfolded out of the justice of the woman, all justice is unfolded; Unfolded out of the sympathy of the woman is all sympathy:A man is a great thing upon the earth, and through eternity—but

every jot of the greatness of man is unfolded out of woman, First the man is shaped in the woman, he can then be shaped in himself.

Morning CommutersBy Nancy Philo

The moon’s dropped in over the freewayLike a chalky-white stage prop.We are the morning commutersHurtling down the highway, early.We’re tuned into our radiosHearing last night’s tragedies And today’s forecast.From his tree perch on the median stripA lone hawk presides thornily, majestically. Gazing out over us as we fly by, he notes thePale chamisa starting to yellow up, the frosty fields, And the distant blue peaks.We are ordering our thoughts,Preparing for our day, as the radio fades in and out,In and out.The car knows its way.Houses cling like barnacles to the snowy hills,Little puffs of wood smoke are testament to those inside.Our coffees are puddling on the dashboards.We are the morning commutersWe are the morning commuters.


The third in a series of articlesby Robert Gallegos

There was a time when thetypical backyard in thepoorer neighborhoods in

Las Vegas had some of the items,which I will try to describe here, to-gether with their various uses.

Most yards had simple enclosuresfor discarding trash. We called theseareas “basueros.” Remember that weare talking about the depression yearsand I am using Northern New Mexicophrases or words that I do not knowhow to spell. Oldtimers know what Iam talking about. The “basueros” con-tained mostly cans, since most com-bustibles were burned in the woodstoves. Not many households hadleftovers, so there was very littlegarbage.

Most people would have a smallsquare of their yards enclosed withboards about a foot high to containtheir cans. There were always peoplecoming around to cart away the trashfor a small fee. Most of the trash wastaken to a disposal area or dump bythe creston at the west end of TecoloteStreet. In new town I remember a dump by the PecosRiver, south of the KFUN Radio Station.

An outhouse was another item found at all housesin our neighborhood. When I was very young, mostresidents dug and constructed their own structuresand later some residents bought commercial out-houses that were colored green, made out of woodand had concrete floors. They were difficult to movewhen they had to be relocated.

One utility that most houses had was water. Itconsisted of a single faucet which was located outsidethe house. We had to insulate them in the winter tokeep them from freezing, and in the summer we tieda small piece of cloth to the water outlet to strain thewater. Inside our homes we kept a pail of drinkingwater covered with a cloth and with a tin drinking cup

hanging on the side of the pail.Another structure in most back

yards was a woodshed with an en-closure for storing coal. Coal was or-dered from either the ShillinglawCoal Company located on RailroadAvenue, or the Condon Coal Com-pany. The coal bins for this com-pany were located on 12th Street,next to the railroad spur line thatran from the Santa Fe Round House,alongside the Gallinas River, to theMontezuma ice ponds. Coal was de-livered by the sack, one-half ton, orby the ton.

Most backyards had a smallvegetable garden to supplement thefood supply.

There were lots of chickens inLas Vegas in those days. They pro-vided plenty of eggs and chickendinners on special occasions. In thesummer we slept with the doorsopen. Through the screen door youcould hear roosters crowing at day-break all over the neighborhood.Some people kept a milk cow, goats,and pigs.

When you went to a neighbor’shouse through the backyard, you had to be on thealert for flying dirty water. I remember most peoplewould open the back door and fling dirty water to theground as there was no other means of disposal.

All backyards had clothes lines. These lines usu-ally consisted of a single wire strung between twostructures, with a pole in the middle to prop up thelow-hanging wire after the clothes were hung.

Other indispensable items in the backyards wereshovels, axes, coal buckets, a “cajete” (a tub forbathing or washing clothes), and a “lavadora,” (wash-board).

— Editor’s note: Robert Gallegos uses words in thecontext of his memories from childhood, and states thatspelling and usage may be inaccurate.

“When you wentto a neighbor’shouse throughthe backyard,

you had to be onthe alert for flying dirtywater. I

remember mostpeople wouldopen the backdoor and fling

dirty water to theground as therewas no othermeans of disposal.”


YESTERDAYIn the Backyard: A Little of This and a Little of That


ECLECTICALLY YOURS: CONNIE MACK

When I drove for a transportation company inNorthern New Mexico, I took clients wholived in villages and on the Navajo Reserva-

tion into towns and cities for medical appointments. I wasnew to New Mexico in those days, and needed directions. Igot some I will never forget. Here are a few of my experi-ences.

Once, out past Ribera, I was told to, “Turn left, threemiles before the water tanks.” Another time I was told thehouse I was looking for, “was next to the house with the doorthat used to be blue.”

I wasn’t the only driver who stressed about directions.One day, over my radio I heard the voice of a very irritateddriver. “I finally found her but she was not short and she wasnot wearing a pink sweater.”

I worked hard to find my clients, but one woman was re-ally difficult to locate. Finally the only thing I could think todo was open a gate and hope it led to her place around thebend. It did and what a relief it was to see her standing infront of a little adobe with her white purse hanging politelyfrom her arm. I told her I had been nervous about openingthe gate because of not wanting to get shot. “Oh, no,” shesaid. “They have to have a NO TRESPASSING sign on thegate to shoot you. If they don’t have a NO TRESPASSINGsign and they shoot you, you can take them to court!”

My first day on the Navajo Reservation my trainer said,“You’ll go and you’ll go and you’ll feel like you’re way thehell out there.” When, I wondered, would that not be true.Tony Hillerman, in one of his books said about the NavajoReservation, “You could hide Kansas out there.” He wasright.

The man who trained me didn’t talk much, just pointedout a mountain range now and then. “Hog Back Ridge, AngelPeak, Sleeping Ute, Coyote Peak, Ship Rock.” I didn’t thinkhe’d done me much good until my first day driving alone.Without those mountains I would have been eternally lost.From then on, I drove by those peaks as if I was at sea andthey were the stars.

The company hired a driver who had been a lawmanback in the day. He could find anything… if he was on ahorse. One day, after dropping a client off I called the officefor my next set of directions. The dispatcher vented to me.“The new man, he’s always lost! Give him a horse with aposse and he can find what he’s looking for! Point to a moun-tain range and say, ‘they went thata’ way’ and he won’t havea problem. Give him the moon and the stars to go by butdon’t give him directions!”

I was told more than once I couldn’t miss it. On one oc-casion the directions indicated the client lived next to the old

post office. “You can’t miss it,” the dispatcher said. Afterdriving all over the village, and asking around, I found whoI was looking for but there was no post office next to herhouse. “Oh,” she said, “they tore that down years ago.”

I drove confidently toward Chama one day. How hardcould it be? I even had the name of a street. I was told thisparticular place was two houses down, past the house withthe woodpile. After asking several people who knew aboutthe woodpile but couldn’t picture it, I simply asked for thelady I was looking for and was pointed to the exact house. Itold the client about my woodpile directions and she told mea little story. “Oh, that was 30 years ago. The man two housesdown cut a lot of wood and some boys set it on fire and henever cut anymore wood.”

“So, now, it’s just the house with the story about thewoodpile, right?” I asked.

“Right.” On another day I looked a long time for the “Rodeo”

sign. Finally, a little piece of cardboard blowing in the wind,read “Rodeo” in pencil. I turned right and drove on, and on,and on. Finally I saw a truck coming toward me. I waved himdown. He stopped. I asked my question. Silently, he gotdown from his truck, opened a huge hunting knife, walkedtoward me slowly and just when I was saying the last wordsof my prayer, he bent down and drew the directions in thedirt.

During my time on the job my boss gave me enough di-rections to confuse both of us. Finally, at the height of hisfrustration he said, “Just go there, you’ll find him.” I knewthat I would.

Directions: Getting From Here to There

Take a left and hope for the best?

IMAGE BY CONNIE MACK


Chapter TenJob Hunting

Stay in the car. Krank will take care of you.”“I ‘fraid.” Alex’s trembling lower lip and red-rimmed eyes wrenched at her heart. She would

have done anything to keep him from being afraid, but shecouldn’t haul him into every place she planned to applyfor a job. It just wasn’t done.

“I’ll pick up an application and be right back.”Annie brushed a kiss against his forehead, pushed

down the locks and shut the car door. Krank woofed acomplaint and then settled back. Alex wrapped his armsaround the dog and buried his face in Krank’s fur. Annieswallowed the knot in her throat and headed to the door ofthe restaurant.

Cuppa’ Joe seemed to be more of a coffee shop than arestaurant but waiting tables was waiting tables, no matterwhere you were. As it turned out, it didn’t matter. Cuppa’Joe wasn’t hiring. That was the same answer she got at thenext six places she stopped including McDonalds andArbys. By that time Alex was out like a light, sleeping inthe back seat and Krank was sniffing at the four-inch widewindow opening as if by doing so he could suck in moreair.

“Poor old dog, we’ve put you through a lot haven’twe?”

He calmed under her gentle hand and slumped downin the front seat panting, his soulful eyes watching herevery move. She was grateful it wasn’t a hot day. Shewould never have left Alex and Krank in a closed car. Shetold herself that to assuage the guilt she felt for not beinga good mother. In fact she was a terrible mother, alwaysone step ahead of a social services system that could takeher children from her if she didn’t do things right. She’dbeen reported for neglect in a little town in Arizona. Thekids had been put in foster care for a week while her casewas evaluated and it had nearly killed her. After threemonths of being visited by a social worker she had loadedwhat would fit into her aging Mustang along with the kidsand Krank, and had taken off. She’d hated to leave withoutletting her boss know. It wasn’t her way, but neither didshe want to risk losing her children again.

That had been two years ago. Annie looked at her watch and realized Marie would

be getting out of school soon. She was picking both chil-dren up today but beginning tomorrow they would be rid-ing the school bus. Caleb would complain unmercifully.He hated to ride the bus. Marie would be excited.

Annie checked the phone book she’d been using as ref-erence as she looked for restaurants where she could apply.The next one on the list was Primetime Steakhouse. Fatigue

dragged at her, but the addresswas only a few blocks away.Might as well eliminate onemore from the list.

Alex stirred and mumbledsomething in his sleep. Krankcame up on his forelegs andstuck his muzzle over the seat.Annie was ever amazed at thedog’s ability to sense disquiet in any of the children, and inher as well.

“Don’t fret, little mother,” she said, petting him intocalm once again. “He’s having a baby dream.” Krankwhined but kept his attention on the sleeping boy.

Annie shook her head and smiled. The silly hound’spresence gave her comfort.

She pulled into a spot in front of the restaurant and gotout, giving Alex one more quick glance to be sure he wasstill sleeping before she locked the door and shut it softly.

Primetime Steakhouse was several cuts above otherrestaurants she’d been to. The temperature was comfort-able, neither too cold nor too warm. The décor was invit-ing, furnished with dark heavy woods softened by lushwall treatments, beveled mirrors and lots of fresh flowersand well-tended greenery. She tugged self consciously atthe T-shirt she wore and prodded her hair as if doing sowould make her look better than the mirror behind thehost desk plainly told her she did.

“We don’t open for dinner until 5:30.” The woman’s voice seemed to come out of nowhere.

The mirrors reflected light and images in such a way Anniefound herself momentarily disoriented, and then she spot-ted her. Fine porcelain skin, arched brows, masses ofgolden hair caught up with a sparkling clip, and softlytinted lips gave the illusion of old world sophistication andVictorian simplicity. Her blouse was white silk and drapedher shoulders in expensive lines. She was seated at a tablejust inside the main dining room folding crisp white nap-kins into swan shapes.

“I’m looking for a job. Do you have any openings?”“I’m sorry, we’re filled up with wait staff and kitchen

help at the moment.”“Oh, well, then I won’t trouble you.”“Have we met?” “No, I just moved here. I’m staying with a relative.”“Who?” The abruptness of the question had them both

blinking. “I’m sorry,” the woman said, and instead ofstanding, she pushed back from the table and wheeled her-self toward Annie in a motorized chair. “You look famil-iar.”

TTHHEE RREEAADDIINNGG RROOOOMM

— CONTINUED ON PAGE 22 —


Annie glanced at her watch. “I have to pick my chil-dren up at school. Thank you for your time.”

She hurried out and all but ran to her car. As shestarted to pull away she saw the woman in the wheelchairat the door of the restaurant watching her.

Chapter ElevenAn Offer You Can’t Refuse

Mr. Gomez quit today. I’m not surprised.Since the day Billy Givens transferred in asmanager he has been trying to get rid of

him. Mr. Gomez can do much better than working atShopMart but the employees are really going to miss him.The last straw was when Billy made Marco clean up amess one of the supervisors had made. When I say mess,I do mean MESS. Mary Allders came to work today sixsheets to the wind. This is not unusual for our Ms. Allders.She comes in drunk more often than not. Today she be-came ill (I’m being kind here) in the linens departmentand ruined a bunch of strap-wrapped towels. Poor Marcogot sick himself in the middle of cleaning up her vomitand, well any fool could see what was going to happennext. Yep, what Allders didn’t take out Marco did.

Well, Billy screamed at Marco and called him all kindsof names, scaring the poor kid half to death. He firedAllders, something that should have happened long agoand then fired poor Marco. The kid was a wreck. He camecrying to me, and then Billy lit into me. By that time quitea ruckus had been stirred up and here came Mr. Gomez tofind out what was going on. When he learned Marco hadbeen fired he went ballistic. Before he left he had strippedBilly of what little dignity he possessed and had the restof us clapping, which when I think about it now probablywasn’t the best idea.

Knowing Billy he’ll check the security tapes to seewho was cheering Mr. Gomez on and fire them tomorrow.Thank God I won’t be there. I’m not on the schedule.Maybe by the time I go back to work on Friday he willhave settled down. I really don’t want to lose this job,lousy as it is. I have two years on the mortgage. Withoutthe job things would be really tight, especially now that Ihave extra people here.

She adjusted her glasses and thought about that. Howmuch longer would her company be around? A flutter ofunnamed discomfort lodged under her breast. “Acid re-flux, no doubt,” she muttered.

I wanted to call Marco’s family to see how he’s doing,but couldn’t find a listing. Sometimes I wonder what Godis thinking by letting bad things happen to angel inno-cents like Marco.

Annie and the children are out. I guess she must havegotten them registered in school. I’m glad for these mo-ments of peace and yet it already feels odd not to hearfootsteps and paw pads.

I haven’t decided what to have for supper what withAnnie’s penchant for buying fast food. No wonder thechildren have an attitude; too much fat, too much sugar,too many calories.

Lilly tapped the page with her pen and twitched hernose.

In fairness, they’re not so bad, just children. Godknows what their lives have been like. I have a feeling itain’t been no cake walk.

She looked at what she’d written, sniffed, then wentback and scratched through the words “ain’t” and “no”and wrote in “hasn’t” and “any.” She really didn’t like ed-iting her journal. She tried to keep it reflective of her truefeelings, but using that kind of grammar was just plainlazy and unnecessary.

The sound of the doorbell brought her out of herreverie. She figured it must be Annie but a quick lookthrough the security viewer had Lilly’s blood pressureskyrocketing. She drew in a deep breath and opened thedoor.

“Patricia.”Harve had installed a wheelchair ramp years ago to

accommodate elderly and disabled parishioners. At thismoment Lilly would have ripped it out with her barehands if she could manage it.

“I’m here to see Trey’s daughter.”“Excuse me?”“Trey’s daughter, is she here?”How did she know Annie was in town? “Out.”“When will she be back?”“What business is it of yours?” trembled on the tip of

her tongue. Of course she didn’t say that. “I’m not surewhere she is so I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

“She came to Primetime, looking for a job. Tell her ifshe still wants one, I’ll make room for her.” Without an-other word, Patricia turned the wheelchair around, rolleddown the ramp and buzzed back to the speciallyequipped van she traveled around in. Once she was in-side, her driver secured the door, hurried around to thedriver’s side, got in and took off.

Lilly shut the door and leaned her back against it. Pa-tricia Hadley Mercer. Her mind went back to the last timeshe had come to the house, two years ago, before the ac-cident that took Whit Mercer’s life and left her wheelchairbound. It had been Harve’s last day this side of heaven.

“Lilly, hi, I came to see Reverend Irish.” Patricia wasthe only one who called Harve that; everyone else calledhim Harve or Preacher.

“He’s in the garden. Come on in. Would you like cof-fee? Tea?”

“No, that’s all right. I’ll just go out and talk to himthere.”

— CONTINUED ON PAGE 23 —


Patricia was one of those tall aristocratic lookingwomen who exuded an aura of self-assurance and supe-riority.

“Sure, go on through.”Lilly shamelessly went in the family room and stood

by the open patio door so she could hear what was beingsaid. She didn’t want anything to upset Harve; he hadn’tbeen feeling well the last several weeks. She’d tried to gethim to see the doctor, but he wouldn’t go.

“Why, hello Patricia,” Harve said. “What a surprise.How is that husband of yours?”

“Busy. Running a quality restaurant is time consum-ing.”

“I’m sure it is and a fine restaurant it is.”A silence followed until Harve prompted her by say-

ing, “What can I do for you today?”“As you know I’m chair of the personnel committee

and we’ve been discussing the future of the church.”“Commendable, but surprising since I was not aware

of the meeting. I’m sure if it was on my calendar my sec-retary would have reminded me.”

Lilly felt a tingle in her neck that spread across hershoulders. No, no, no. Please don’t say it. They’d heardrumblings of course, but Harve had been sure theyweren’t going to do anything, not for a while anyway.

“It is my responsibility to let you know the committeeis going to recommend that we begin looking for your re-placement.”

“You firing me?” Lilly could hear his attempt at lightness as if this was-

n’t a crushing blow.“No, of course not, but at your age you have to be

thinking of retirement and it will take time to replace you.We just want you to know we’re starting to look. Thatgives you time to make arrangements for a place to live.”

“A place to live? We live here.”“But this is the parsonage.”“No, it’s our home, Lil’s and mine.”“Only as long as you are the minister.”“Mrs. Mercer,” Harve said, sounding stiff and a little

breathless, “this is our home. It belongs to us, not thechurch. The elders deeded it to us years ago in lieu of pay-ing me a bigger salary. The housing allowance went to-ward paying off the original mortgage.”

Lilly twitched her nose. Yes, and it was a ramblingwreck with a leaky roof and sagging floors when we gotit.

“That can’t be right. I’ve never heard anything…“Several things happened at once. Lilly stepped out-

side to give Patricia a piece of her mind, Harve wheezedout Lilly’s name, and Patricia screamed, “Call 911!”

By the time the ambulance arrived it was too late.Harve was gone. She knew it was foolish but Lilly blamedPatricia for his death.

A lot had happened since that fateful day. Patriciahad been through her own kind of hell and was now awheelchair bound widow. Lilly knew she should feelsorry for her but she didn’t. Not a charitable thought, notcharitable at all. God forgive me. She straightened andsmoothed her hair with a trembling hand. She would tellAnnie about the job offer then do everything in her powerto keep her away from Primetime Steakhouse and itsowner.

She returned to her journal and recorded the en-counter, keeping to the facts. Going off on a rant wouldn’thave done her old heart any good. She’d just finishedwhen the doorbell rang. Given her last visitor she ap-proached the door cautiously and peered through the se-curity viewer. All she saw was the back of a man’s head.She opened the door and spoke through the screen.

“Yes?”The man was tall and, from the look of him, someone

used to getting his way. There was a cocky assurance tothe phony smile he pasted on.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you. I think I may be lost. Is thisAdderville Road?”

Lilly blinked “I beg your pardon?”“Is this Adderville Road?”Lilly twitched her nose. “Never heard of it.”The man waited, as though expecting her to add

something further. When she didn’t he continued.“Well, thanks, sorry to bother… Say, do you have a

phone book handy? I could check the map.”“There’s a service station four blocks down. They can

probably help you.” She shut the door with a firm click before the man

could say more. She watched through the living roomwindow as he walked across the street and down a blockwhere he got into a van and drove off.

Lilly had heard more than one story of a womanbeing attacked in her home. She had no intention of beinga statistic. Better paranoid than sorry.

This incident she also recorded in her journal. Sheconcluded with: All kinds of weird things have happenedsince Annie arrived. I hope trouble doesn’t follow thatchild around.

Lilly was tucking the journal into her nightstandwhen she heard Annie and Alex come in and the woof ofa hungry dog. For no reason she could name, she smiled.

Next month: Chapter 12, An Ill Wind

Tiger Lilly, by F.S. Vander Meer, is availableon CD as a digital file ($9.50).

To read the previous chapters go towww.happenstancelifehappens.com

The story begins in the October 2010 issue

http://www.vandermeerbooks.com

Hope in the midst of sorrow

Have a Blessed Easter

Happenstance, life happens

Documents

Transcript of Happenstance, life happens