As always with a big new project, the day of reckoning comes at last.
I am blessed to have, in my life, several sanctuaries, one of which I am able to visit daily, the others at least once a week.
I am particularly blessed in these special places that seem to have come into my life by chance or luck but are in fact the material manifestations of prayer.
An escape, a refuge, to write my next two books seemed not a luxury but a necessity…
Pip and I were on to adventure, on the edge of danger, full of life and energy—the way I want to live.
I’ve always been fascinated by mules, perhaps because Kentucky and Tennessee were said to breed the best mules in the country because they were part thoroughbred.
What is priceless about the enclave on Apache Mesa is that it is not only us newcomers who have found little pockets of paradise there; the people who have lived there for decades are still in place.
At last I’ve found a house that fits me perfectly. I call it (with a bow to Laura Ingalls Wilder) The Little House on the Prairie.
We must find a way—we women who must claim our wild.
Right now I am privileged to be at the birth of two new ventures: a gallery in Santa Fe, designed, stocked and overseen by my son Barry, and Apache Mesa Ranch, a wild mesa top and deep valley near Las Vegas, New Mexico.