Partly because I saw a movie, Wetlands (trailer is NSFW), over the weekend that would be an interesting first date litmus test for many things. The final showing is tonight,…Continue
Hola Fixers! It has been a while, sí? I’m now blogging as Barelas Babe, Ph.D, which has a nifty little ring to it, don'cha think? But no worries, this Bareleña isn’t going to get too big for her pantalones (or should that…Continue
Sandwiched between this morning's stories of greed at Goldman Sachs and the impact of volcanic ash on European air travel, is a New York Times story about Pajarito Mesa just south of Albuquerque. This is a familiar story to Duke City denizens, but many people elsewhere assume those living "off the grid" do so as a matter of choice, not necessity. And they are often… Continue
I’ve been thinking about bilingualism a fair amount these days. Like so many families I know, my family is a mix of monolinguals and bilinguals. In these parts, most of us are familiar with Spanglish – that mix of Spanish and English that is used all over Albuquerque, but especially in communities like Barelas, Los Griegos, and the South Valley.
Every time I drive to the airport, I see the San Jose Cemetery just west of I-25 and south of Gibson. I always tell myself that one of these days I must stop and check out the cemetery on foot.
After last week’s election results were posted, I realized that a fair number of politicos and their staffers in the Duke City may be headed to Washington DC, my “other city”. And it seems that a local museum director and a few others (including one amazing Burqueña who’ll be sharing my space for a bit) will also be coming east. Some folks will be trekking from… Continue
There were 45,000 hearing people in the audience and 5 signing deaf people in the bleachers behind the stage at the Obama Rally Saturday night. Regular readers of my blog may know that I'm a card-carrying member of the smaller group.
I’m looking forward to voting this week. One of my earliest childhood memories is of walking down the street on Election Day with both of my parents and my younger brother, whose toddler exuberance was constrained with a baby blue
Less than a mile from the heart of downtown Albuquerque is a community experiment in progress. If you drive (or even walk) down 4th Street south of Central Avenue, past the streets named for entities in the Periodic Table of the Elements, you might notice a small plot of land with raised garden beds painted in bright colors.
I’ve been staring at the screen off and on for days, trying to figure out what to blog about this week.
The first weekend after Labor Day is always bittersweet for me, marking the psychological transition from summer into autumn. Mornings are cooler, there’s a hint of green chile in the air, and leaves begin to acquire a tarnish of gold.
“Beautiful” is not a word often linked with Barelas. Ours is a close-knit community, held together by corazón y familia, but beauty doesn’t figure into most descriptions of Barelas. Speed through the main thoroughfares of our barrio and you’ll likely miss the beauty that lives in… Continue
The first time I saw Albuquerque was during winter break of my senior year of college. My 3 year old son and I drove east from California in an aging pickup truck to check out the University of New Mexico and Albuquerque as a possible place to spend a few years while I attended graduate school.
My best friend Diana called from Arizona last night, wanting to give my daughter a new outfit for her first day of high school. As a veteran mother of two daughters who have successfully navigated (and completed) the murky waters of high school, her advice is worth its weight in gold.
I’m up too late on a Saturday night (for reasons of insomnia, not fun) and feel too groggy to throw on some clothes and walk a few blocks down the street to the Church of Beethoven this Sunday morning.
Ever since the summer of 1975, when I hung a foldout poster from Elton John’s Captain Fantastic album on my bedroom closet door, I have been a sucker for posters. Earlier this month I stumbled upon Puerto Rico Literario, a small gem of a poster art collection at the… Continue
Ever since I’ve been commuting from Albuquerque to the Capital City (not the City Different, but the one supposedly built on a swamp), I’ve been tantalized by glimpses of the old Albuquerque Airport terminal, built in 1939.
Last week, I decided to see it up close and in person.
It was an adventure.
The first challenge is getting to it. Mapquest and Google…
Airport – a neutral place between worlds.
Once again I’m blogging in an airport upon wending my way back to Albuquerque from (yet another) conference.