Last week there was no family and no kids in New Mexico for the Spring holiday season. Therefore: No Seder (although, with grave jealousy, I pored over photos of SJ’s Seder goodies of juicy brisket and Lokshen Kugel). No Easter Bunny. No Easter Eggs. No Easter Basket of goodies. But, don’t feel too sorry for HG. Easter Sunday began with a favorite breakfast. Broad noodles were lightly buttered and topped with poached eggs. Dusted with freshly grated parmesan, Malden sea salt flakes and ground black pepper. Big mugs of Cafe Latte. And, the obligatory Sunday New York Times.
Brilliant sunshine under blue skies. Temperature in the 70’s. Off to the Pueblo San Ildefonso, a scenic ten minute drive from the HG/BSK compound. Watched the mesmerizing Native American dancers. Some forty wonderfully costumed men (many allusions to the earth and animals). Rhythmic chanting, drum beating, gourd shaking. Perfectly timed dance steps. All set against a backdrop of old adobe, dark mesas and the soaring Jemez mountains. A miraculous New Mexico spectacle. Native Americans have been living in San Ildefonso for almost 800 years. Their culture is very much alive.
HG and BSK returned home to a late lunch of Italian escarole and bean soup (with a liberal lashing of Tuscan olive oil). Then, a long afternoon swim in the lap pool. It’s a life. Somebody’s got to live it. Might as well be HG and BSK.