Election Day 2014, Country Style

Today was election day, so we went to pick up the mail at the post office and then to vote.

Our polling place is very picturesque:

It's the fire station and that metal cylinder is the water tank. The water from the tank fills the pumper truck.

At the gate where we turned in from the highway (no campaigning within 100 feet of a polling station, so she was within the rules) sat a lone woman under an umbrella who urged us to vote for her son as a write-in candidate for sheriff. I didn't take her photo because I thought it might make her nervous. Also on duty at the gate were a Rottweiler and an Australian Shepherd from a neighboring ranch who tried to herd our truck as we turned in.

So here we were.

We voted inside the fire station where they keep the trucks.

Sharpie-type pens were used to mark the ballots and then voters fed the ballots into a machine that I hope was calibrated accurately.

94 percent of our county are white. 81 percent are Hispanic or Latino, so it makes sense that the ballot would have many Hispanic candidates. The median household income is $40,000, but 88% of the population own their homes.

Some are simple:

And some are grand:

But rich or poor, voting is a big thing here, and there's usually a pretty good turnout. 

Government of the people, by the people and for the people.

New Mexico State Capitol, Santa Fe

Belonging

Our county is small, just around 4,700 people or so, which works out to around 2.5 people per square mile. I can drive six miles to the post office and not meet one car coming or going. Something I just read says we aren't even considered rural, but a frontier. Who knew there was something more rural than rural?

So when our community has an event, it will be well attended, even if the temperature outside is 19 degrees. It's a chance to meet up with family and friends, have some Frito pie or a tamale, do a little gossiping, a little people watching, and buy art, crafts, and baked goodies from the folks at the tables and booths lined up on the elementary school's gym floor. Santa makes an appearance, too, so there are kids, lots of them, waiting for the old guy to show up.

This is my third consecutive Winterfest, always held the first Saturday in December.

The first time I went alone, knowing no one, feeling like everyone was leaning over to their friend from their perch on the gym bleachers, asking, "Who is that?" I felt self conscious, alien, and alone and quickly bought some baked goods and got the heck out of there.

Last year was a bit better, but this year was different. Maybe it's because I went with a friend, but that was only part of it. About half way around the gym I heard someone call my name, "Bridget! How are you?" Vicki was at a table selling baked goods with some high school students earning money for a trip to Europe.

A few steps later, Darlene and Jonathan stopped to chat. There was a short conversation with Veronica, whose hoop house we helped to finish last spring.  Roger and his sister stood behind a table selling their Rancho Carmelo goodies and bath and beauty potions. Across from Roger, John and Pam's daughter displayed her home baked designer cupcakes.

I sat down at the bleachers and chatted with Rita who sold us some beef cattle about a year ago. She introduced me to her mom and I immediately missed mine.

From my perch on  the bleachers I scanned the gym and spotted Betsy, our driver to Winterfest, and a new friend, Barbara. We all have the initials B.B. and may start a club.

After a lunch in a local diner, surrounded by friends both old and new, I went back to the ranch realizing something had changed.

This place feels like home now.

 

We Had Some Snow!

It's hard to tell how much snow we have had in the past four days, but my not-so-educated estimate is almost a foot based on our tromping about outside and looking at the accumulations on fences, tables, and other fixed objects in the yard.

Raised Beds and Long Porch

Garage and Grand Entry

Yesterday the guys and Ms. P went outside for some exploring. No blue sky yesterday.

Z and MP Snowshoing Along Coyote Creek

Ms. P loves the snow!

Today we went looking for the L'il Guyz, which is my current name for the new beef cattle. We've been feeding them hay since it's so cold and their grass is covered with snow.

This is down the driveway looking north.

And this is looking south. Z says it looks like a Norwegian fjord.

It's a winter wonderland out there and it isn't even winter yet!

And here's a photo of something new, a sheepherder's wagon. More about that later.

We are snug in the cabin and today will be a let's-finish-something-anything day in the sewing room.

Oil and Gas Drilling in Northern New Mexico: A New Film

Reader Angela, who writes the excellent blog, http://www.highdesertchronicles.com/, reminded me of the recent film about our county's fight for its rights.

Here is the trailer for the movie, which gives an excellent picture of what a small community is doing to protect itself from oil and gas drilling.



 When I tell people where I live, more often than not, I hear, "Oh! You live in God's Country!"

Watch this video to see what they are talking about.

Silent Sunday: December in Mora County, NM

Who Lives Here?

Our neighbors are a diverse bunch, but the anchors here are the people descended from Spanish settlers who received land grants from the Governor of the New Mexican Territories in the 1830's.  Vigil, Montoya, Martinez, Trujillo, Chacon, Lucero, Pacheco are names you see on the business signs, political banners, and in the government offices.  When people say, "He's not from around here," they might mean that the guy came here in the 1970's. Forty years living in one place does not make you an insider around here. It's kind of like New England in that way, insular and not always amenable to change.

Spanish American residents of Mora, New Mexico, way back when

Most of the full time residents in our area seem to be land rich and cash poor. Because it's so isolated, it is hard to make a living, the kind of living where you make lots of money. It has been described as like Appalachia in some ways, with poverty being the biggest similarity. A few people commute to work in Taos, a 100 mile round trip, or have jobs working for the county of Mora. A significant number of these local people have college degrees and returned here because they like a quiet, safe atmosphere. When you listen to people around here talk, there's a bit of a Spanish accent which I heard someone describe as the Northern New Mexico lilt.

So who else lives here? Old hippies who home school their kids, eat vegan and do odd carpentry jobs to make a living are our closest neighbors. They have no running water and haul it from a neighbor's well.  When the girls hit their teens, his water hauling increased enormously. Teen-aged girls require lots of water, you know.  Their oldest daughter is attending college, the next one was just accepted and will go in the fall. The two youngest daughters are home schooled. They are our closest full time neighbors, about a half mile away.

A retired police officer and his wife live a bit farther. He recently retired again-from raising yaks, when a mean one tossed him out of a corral. He was lucky to be wearing layers of clothing and overalls. Have you seen those yak horns?

About five miles away is David, a local who raises goats.  Mr. Cordova, in his 70's, raises cattle, and wonders if he is ready to hang up his cowboy had and move to town.

That's about it for full time residents.

Our adjacent neighbors on each side are entrepreneurs, oilmen, doctors, and the guy who designed the new Spaceport America.

It's an interesting mix. We were told that if we didn't take anyone's jobs, didn't want to change everything, and were good neighbors, we would be in good shape.

We buy eggs, cattle, produce, honey and soon, chickens to eat, from our neighbors. I figure why the heck not? Every village needs an economy.