Trees started leafing out at my elevation in Placitas a couple of days ago, including this desert olive on the east side of the house. Nothing like their green in the morning light — it’s very soft, or the receiving leaves are — and I can’t quite get it on my little point and shoot. Maybe you just have to be there.
I’ve always grumbled about April Fools’ jokes, maybe just because I’m slow to catch on. I laughed to myself this morning, though, recalling one the Santa Fe Reporter did in the 1970s, as its cover story no less: Palace of the Governor’s sold to a group of Texas investors. I think then-owners Dick McCord and Laurie Knowles took heat for it. I don’t remember laughing at the time, possibly because I had not yet migrated to Reporter employment and was working for The New Mexican, where reporters in the olden days — when John Bott was editor — were responsible for matching everything the upstart weekly had exclusively. And, as I say, I’ve always been slow on the uptake. Maybe not yet having recovered from Frank Clifford’s investigation for the Reporter of Santa Fe County property taxes — Maytag mansion owners pay $1 a year — I probably groaned when I saw the alleged Palace of the Governor’s scoop on that April 1 many years ago, “How am I going to top this.” I can still see McCord’s sly smile, and I’ve learned to check the date, as I had to do today on Joe Monahan’s blog, which gets credit for tripping me up at age 65 on this date in 2015.
Impressed by the Ken Burns-produced PBS documentary on cancer research and treatment that last two nights, and will tune in for the final tonight. In awe of the commitment of doctors and courage of patients, and the history of research is exceptionally well presented.
Awaiting new imaging later this month on my own Round 1 of lung cancer treatment, and I’ve found the waits in treatment are learning experiences all of their own. Time slows, if not halts. Maybe it’s a good thing the chemo and radiation have left me sleeping nearly ’round the clock.
First wildflowers also are out in Placitas — as always led by the unfortunately named Fendler bladder pods. Because of late winter moisture, I think there will be carpets of them soon. And, despite their name, they’re pretty spectacular.