Posts in Category: Column


By Laura Smith
Today I am going to wallow. Just a little bit. Okay? It’s been six months. Six months of no birthday parties or family gatherings. No coffees or lunches with friends. No new restaurants. No neighborhood parties. No movies or plays. No vacations from the day to day dreariness. Enough already.

Alright, that’s all the wallowing I’m going to allow myself today. No sense in complaining, I’ll dust off, pick myself up, and carry on. The good news is that Corrales, New Mexico is a special place to live during a pandemic. We’ve got great weather, outdoor dining, wonderful areas to walk, and a friendly village. And many of us have a meaningful, growing, connection through Village in the Village (ViV). Last month’s article focused on information about how ViV is using technology to communicate and stay connected. Our virtual clubs and social events are going strong. To improve access, ViV applied for and was awarded a grant from the State of New Mexico to provide training for our members. ViV is only one of five organizations who received funding from the governor’s office.

We are developing small group and individual tutoring in the use of phones, tablets, and computers. We want our members to be able to use virtual tools to stay in touch with their families, friends, healthcare providers, and others in the community. We also plan to provide training for those wanting to expand their skills in order to pay bills and order groceries. We’ll be able to help those who don’t exactly know how to turn their devices on and those who want to explore more sophisticated options.

We had a soft opening this past week for interested members of ViV. Sarah Pastore explained the scope of the grant as well as potential upcoming topics. Brynn Cole introduced basic computer terminology in a way that participants could understand. Sarah remarked, "It's exciting to be able to offer training to seniors during this time of social distancing, and it's very satisfying to know that they'll gain the confidence and skills to use technology comfortably after the pandemic is behind us." We are so excited and proud of this accomplishment, that ViV is extending an invitation to anyone in Corrales to attend a virtual showcase of our proposed programming. If you wonder what the difference between a router and a modem is, or what the heck streaming means, join us!

Whether you are a potential ViV member, family member, or someone curious about what’s going on in the Corrales community, we welcome any and all to participate. Don’t be shy, and there’s no test at the end of the class. We’ll host a Zoom meeting on September 28 at 5pm. To register, email Sarah at or call the ViV Call Manager at 505-274-6206.


By Chris Allen
Fishing with a Knight
“How would you like to go fishing tomorrow?” The question came from Paul Knight, a fellow graduate student at the University of New Mexico. It was the spring of 1973.

“I’m not sure,” I answered. “I’m heading for Europe this summer, and I have to get some inoculations in the morning.”

“Come on. We need a break from studying.”

I assented, and the next afternoon, after my appointment, we drove to the Jemez Mountains to land some trout. His dog, Moonhaki, a slender shepherd mix he had rescued from the local animal shelter, sat in the backseat.

We drove west on State Highway 550, turning north at the village of San Ysidro. We rose steadily in elevation surrounded first by deep red sandstone outcrops and then by towering cliffs of granitic strata and volcanic tuff, passing popular touring points like the Soda Dam, a formation of travertine, and Battleship Rock, a towering wedge of a cliff which looked like the prow of a ship gliding through the canyon.
Paul cut off the main highway and headed up the Guadalupe River, a tributary of the Jemez. The small dirt road skirted the edge of the cliffs on one side and skimmed the top of the riverbank on the other. He parked along a narrow shoulder and unloaded our gear.

We grabbed our rods, and Paul slung a backpack with the tackle box and bait around his shoulders. Then he, Moonhaki and I slipped off the edge of the roadway and tumbled down through thick shrubbery of Apache plume and mountain mahogany. Occasionally, through the thick leaves, we glimpsed our goal, Paul’s favorite pool where the rushing water of the river, encumbered by jumbled rocks, slowed to a gentle pace.

Reaching the bottom of the slope, we settled in to spend a few hours casting for trout in the warm spring sunshine. Early mountain flowers were just beginning to awaken, and the scent of the pines and junipers was soothing.

We had successfully caught several trout when suddenly I felt weak and dizzy. “Hey, Paul?” I shouted. He was 20 yards south concentrating heavily on casting into a small, quiet eddy behind a large boulder of granite.

“Shh!” he called back in a stage whisper. “I can see this guy. He’s hiding right next to the rock.”

“I don’t feel well. I feel achy, nauseous.”

“Um,” he muttered, glancing in my direction. “He’s such a beauty. He’s right here! How bad do you feel? Do you want to go home?”

I sat down heavily and cupped my forehead. The pulsing in my head was rapidly getting worse. “Wow, it just hit me. All of a sudden.”

He took a careful look at me again and sighed. “Yep, looks like it’s time to go home.” He reeled in his line and trudged back along the bank. Setting his rod down, he felt my cheek. “You’re warm. I’d better get you back right away.”

He stowed the gear in the backpack and tied the shoelaces of his boots together, slinging them around his neck. Cradling the rods under one arm, and gripping the backpack, he said, “Climb on and I’ll carry you across the stream.”

While I was slender at the time, I was no lightweight. “Are you crazy? I can make it across by myself.”

“No, I insist.”

“Really?” I was skeptical. The bottom of the stream was strewn with river cobbles. Hardly a smooth passage.

“I can do this!” he said, irritated I would question his abilities.

“Ok,” I stifled my concern. It was unseemly for me to rob this chivalrous Knight of his grand gesture, so I clambered onto his back. After shifting my weight, he picked up the backpack, and urging Moonhaki to follow, he forged into the stream.

The piggy-back ride was bumpy and jerky as he searched for easier footing. We were at the mid-point just upstream of some rapids, when Moonhaki lost her footing and slipped toward the protruding rocks.

Paul lunged for her, tipping me off balance. I tightened my grip around his neck. “Ease up!” he gurgled, as he stooped to wrap his one unburdened arm around the dog, pulling her tightly against his leg to stabilize her. Then he guided her to the riverbank.

When Moonhaki regained her footing, she scrambled up the bank, and Paul climbed up after her, bending slightly to enable me to gently slip to the ground as he reached the top.

“Wow, that was amazing!” I gushed, in complete awe of his gallantry. I gazed at this man of medium height and medium build with a full bushy brown beard. At that moment he was every bit the classic heroic mountain man from the early days of western exploration. He was without a doubt a handy fellow to have in a crisis and a romantic to boot. “You are incredible! You did all that to save the dog and me. You have my heart forever.”

“Happy to do it,” Paul demurred. He dropped the backpack and removing his boots from around his neck, he bent over to slip them on. I turned to pick up the backpack and at that moment, I heard a loud thud followed by a muffled, “Damn!”

I spun around. Paul was stretched out on the ground, face buried so deeply in the mud of the riverbank it appeared as though his hat was lying on the surface. Bewildered, I asked, “What on earth happened?”

He lay still for a moment. Then rolling onto his side, he used one hand to wipe mud from his face. Turning slowly to look at me, he said with a grim smile, “I forgot my boots were still tied together.”

Moonhaki rushed over to wash his face, and as he reached up to pat his dog, I knew right then this Knight was the man I was going to marry.

This piece is an adapted excerpt from A Knight to Remember, published in Currents, the Corrales Writing Group 2015 Anthology.


By Laura Smith
Technology Based Social Connections in the Age of Social Distancing
Village in the Village (ViV) stays relevant and engaged during times of social distancing and isolation. The talented members of the Corrales community and ViV have banded together to expand virtual opportunities for social connection and cultural stimulation.

Our now, extremely popular, Discovery Series just completed its eighth presentation. We’ve sponsored the following:
• Amazing Antarctic (Carol and Craig Levy)
• Understanding Alzheimer’s and Dementia (Alzheimer Association of NM)
• Fake News in the Midst of a Pandemic (Chuck Elliott and Laura Smith)
• Coronavirus Q & A (Commander Tanya Lattin)
• Hearing Loss and What you Can Do About It (Meg Chapman)
• Dentistry in the Age of Covid-19 (Lawrence Blank)
• Hometown Corrales: A Family Album (Mary Davis)
• Culture, History, and the Birds of Cuba (Dave Krueper)

Our next presentation will be A Plausible Universe: The Human Side of Science by Don Reightley. These events are given “live” via Zoom for members of Village in the Village. Members can access these programs online if they are not able to attend the live broadcast.

To further keep us occupied, we are also sponsoring a monthly book club with varied offerings such as The Lost Girls of Paris and White Fragility. Our bi-weekly movie club began with a discussion of the film Boy Erased. The next feature will be The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.

You don’t have to be a film critic or an English major to enjoy the friendly exchange of commentary and thoughts. Although many of our members have become somewhat accustomed to getting together virtually, the frequent technical blips suggest that we could use some training in how to make basic connections more easily with each other via online platforms. This is especially important for our more senior seniors and those who are less familiar with technology. Because we saw this need, ViV applied for and received a Quality of Life Grant from the State of New Mexico. By the beginning of September, this grant will enable us to begin individualized training for all members with an interest in learning more about online social connections.

Last month I made a not-so-subtle plea for new members and community support for ViV. I was delighted by the response. Welcome to our new members and thank you. New members (and future new members) will be invited to participate in our technology training. The grant allows us to hire Brynn Cole, the Corrales technology librarian, as a part-time consultant. She will work with our administrator, Sarah Pastore, to develop and implement our educational program.

We’ll kick off with a Zoom meeting for all interested community members which will provide an overview of the program along with an introduction to the vocabulary of technology. The training covers basic terms like URL, streaming, browser, social media, drop-down menu, hyperlink, cellular connections, and wi-fi.

Don’t worry, we’ll make sure that even the luddites (people who struggle with technology) among us will find the training user friendly. The grant also gives us the flexibility of providing devices for a few members who need them for training or as a long-term loan. ViV is proud and excited about being awarded the grant. We’ll keep the community posted on our progress.

Column: Traveler’s Notebook

Zuni, October 2019

The Zuni nation’s primary industry is producing art. From inlays of semi-precious stones and pottery to kachina dolls and animal fetish carvings, Zuni artisans produce hundreds of items increasingly on sale at artists’ cooperatives on the reservation. An estimated 70 percent of reservation Zunis are engaged in producing art or traditional crafts.
In land mass, the Zuni reservation is the largest of New Mexico’s 19 pueblos, but that is still less than five percent of the tribe’s traditional use territory before the mid-1800s. Subsistence farming and ranching remain significant to retaining traditional lifestyles. This nation of around 20,000 south of Gallup has another significant export: lessons in sustainability, perhaps better understood as survival. Although nearly 40 percent of Zuni people —they call themselves A:shiwi and have no clear idea where the name “Zuni” came from— live below the federally-designated poverty line, they have survived in their traditional homeland for at least 1,300 and perhaps as long as 7,000 years. And in some circles far and wide, that accomplishment is under serious study for generalized applications for human societies in the future. Back in 1992, a Zuni tribal representative, Jim Enote, and I were among the few New Mexicans to participate in the United Nations’ “Earth Summit” in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.
Sustainability was the primary theme of that intergovernmental conference that launched the decades-long effort to confront climate change, leading to the 2015 Paris Climate Accord. Governments around the world were encouraged to submit their proposals for how to achieve that hopeful goal. Few actually did. But Enote, representing Zuni, did.
The proposal was based on his recommendations on how to use a 1990 $25 million settlement from the federal government whose land and water use policies had devastated tribal territory. When he returned home from the Earth Summit, officially the UN  Conference on Environment and Development, Emote led a team that produced a 300-page report that was one of the world’s first major documents modeled after the UN “Agenda 21” plan adopted in Rio.
“Sustainable development is nothing new for the Zunis,” Enote is quoted as explaining in the book Eco-Pioneers: practical visionaries solving today’s environmental problems. “We wouldn’t be here if our ancestors had not acted sustainably. What we’re really talking about here is enhancing Zuni sustainable development.” Educated at New Mexico State University and Colorado State University, Enote’s degree is in agriculture. He has planted a crop on tribal land every year since he was a toddler.
Long time director of the pueblo’s A:shiwi A:wan Museum and Heritage Center, he is now chief executive officer of the Colorado Plateau Foundation, which directs funding for indigenous communities’ efforts to apply traditional knowledge to address persistent problems of poverty and environmental degradation. But if it seems the Zuni world view and influence are becoming more extensive, consider that in earlier millenia, that influence may have been much more extensive than it is now. As explained in exhibits and presentations at the A:shiwi A:wan Museum, the creation story tells of a contingent of Zunis migrating far, far to the south. An interpretive talk at the museum suggests elders think that may indicate Zuni ancestors settling in Central and South America. Zuni guide Otto Lucio, after leading a tour of the archeological site Hawikku, site of first contact between Native peoples and Europeans in New Mexico, said he hopes to conduct research in Guatemala to search for evidence of Zuni influence there. —Jeff Radford


By Steve Komadina
Truth versus Opinion with Horses
I am impressed daily that all that I say and hear is opinion. That is true in medicine and religion and politics and nutrition. We are surrounded by opinion and then find our own “truth.” That brings us to horses, horse ownership and feeding, training, tacking and all aspects of animal husbandry. The world of horses is just as saturated with opinion as any other aspect of your life.

Each horse person listens and reads and observes and tries until they find which opinion makes sense and works in their hands to some level of success. Why doesn’t a horse come with an owner’s manual, with all the magic secrets to success in dealing with this big animal? But they do not. To complicate things further, we were never taught “Horse” as a second language. If lucky, we took horseback riding lessons, but that was perhaps the wrong place to start in this horse person relationship. Could riding be the reward you get for doing all the pre-riding preparation for the horse as well as for you? For most of us, riding came first and then we worked our way back to the preparation and the communication with the horse that prepares it for our ride.

There are serious horse people and casual horse people. Corrales is filled with lots of the serious people. To them, the relationship with this living breathing hunk of muscle and bone and brain is close to a spiritual experience. True love grows and is nurtured through joint respect and sharing of good human horse interactions. The majority of these people make no money as a result of their horse involvement. It truly is a labor of love financed somehow by other means.

Like religion and politics, horse people become passionate and protective of their opinions in regards to their horse and relationship. Hence it is very difficult to give advice to a horse person. They become very defensive and feel you are being judgmental with any questions or suggestions made toward them and their steed. We must also recognize the many challenges of trying to teach an adult vs a child. As adults, the fear of being wrong or judged is very intimidating. Many of us just want to go hide and “work” on our problem out of public view. Hence the popularity of auditing clinics or private horse lessons vs group lessons.

Now, everything I have written is my opinion and may be wrong. It is based on my observations of horsemen over the years in a variety of settings… trail rides, lessons, seminars, horse shows, etc. My plea today is for all us Corrales horse people to not be judgmental. Let us be kind in our comments and to be truly a friend when interacting with other horse people. Likewise, don’t wear your feelings on your shoulder, and be observant and teachable always to be a better person for your horse. I have so much more opinion to share but I have a “Horse” language lesson in ten minutes and need to get out to the pasture. See you on the trail.

Column: Corrales Writers Group

Dog Paws or Kale?

By Patricia Walkow

The other day I was playing with my dog, Magic, on the living room sofa. He splayed his underside to me, ready for nuzzles, smooches, baby talk and a belly rub. I obliged him and, in the process, kissed his paws. These are big paws —German Shepherd-Husky-God-knows-what else paws. And for those who have never kissed a dog’s paw, I can tell you it has a gritty texture, tastes like dirt, and emits a unique scent. Some might call it repulsive.
Not me.
Magic’s paws taste better than kale. Okay, I’ll admit that if kale is minced and disguised, I will tolerate it, but if it looks like kale, or bears a rubbery texture and its trademark bitterness, please … give me a smelly, dirty dog’s paw to kiss.
But which is worse: eating kale or kissing dog paws?
I did some research and found it enlightening.
Kale might be dirtier than my dog’s feet. In 2019 it was listed as one of the grubbiest vegetables, with a significant amount of multi-pesticidal residue spread across and ingested within its leaves. And, as you know, kale is almost all leaf. Besides being contaminated with chemicals, kale is likely to contain animal urine or excrement. It’s dirty. Very dirty. Sure, I’d wash it before I eat it, but… yuck!
On the other hand, dogs get into everything. Pesticides, feces, urine and things a dog owner would rather not know. But it’s easy to clean your dog’s paws. Dip them in a bucket of warm water, wipe them with anti-bacterial wipes, make your pooch wear booties. From the perspective of dirtiness, my dog’s paws are as odious as kale leaves. However, they emit the savory scent of corn chips. Think Fritos®. The aroma comes from normal dog bacteria and sweat. It is more satisfying to sniff dirty corn chips than ingest kale.
So, I will continue to enjoy kissing my dog’s paws, but I’d better keep myself healthy to combat anything my lips might touch on Magic’s feet. To do that, I think I have to consider eating some nutrient-rich kale —thoroughly washed, completely disguised in some sauce, and preferably invisible.

Column: Reflections From a Country Store

Spring Without Burpee Seeds

Every spring I take stock.
I look around my village to see what we might have lost since this time last year.  The feed store still sells baby chicks.  Someone plowed the fields at the north end, and buds are swelling on the apple trees.
At the Frontier Mart we still sell asparagus gathered from along the irrigation ditch, and children still buy jacks, marbles, jump ropes and kites, but near the door between the Popsicle freezer and the 50-pound dog food, the garden seeds are gone.
Last year I received a letter from Mr. Burpee saying we hadn’t sold enough seeds to warrant sending more.  I miss getting the big parcel where tab A slid into slot B and all that cardboard folded magically into a panoply of snapdragons and four-o-clocks, zucchini, carrots and lima beans.
No sooner would I assemble the display and arrange the seeds than men in coveralls would come to read the seed packets, to contemplate the sunlight, soil and water requirements, and to count the days until maturity.  They fingered the envelopes like kids in the candy aisle, then carried their selections away like little packets of promise.
Three of my seed customers were Ramón and Julio Tenorio and Walter Atkerson.  Maybe a storekeeper shouldn’t play favorites, but in 18 years of business, Ramón, Julio and Walter are at the top of my list.
The three of them grew corn and cabbage and they raised pigs.  Ramón and Julio were brothers from one of Corrales’s old  families.  On spring mornings Julio and his horse, Smokey, plowed the field at the corner of Tenorio and Corrales Roads.
Walter was a true cowboy who had come down from Colorado (pronounced Colo-ray-do) in the 1940s. He’s the only 82 year-old I’ve known who rode his horse every day.
Ramón and Walter were best friends who traveled together.  When Walter’s car wouldn’t start, they rode to my store on a tractor with Ramón in the driver’s seat and Walter standing alongside.  They bought Jimmy Dean sausage, single-edge razor blades, and shaving cream in a cup with a bristle brush.  Heading home, the old tractor crept along the two-lane road at fifteen miles per hour, and cars moved into the left lane to pass.  Traffic was light then, tractors commonplace.
On Friday nights when I saw Ramón and Walter’s tractor parked at the Territorial House, I’d stop and find them in the bar.  Ramón talked about family and farming.  Walter told about his days as a cowboy on the Black Ranch.  After a while I’d say, “I have to go.  You guys behave.”
Ramón would look offended.  “I always behave,” he’d say.  “I work hard and go to church every day.”
Walter rolled his eyes and mumbled something about blowing smoke.
Julio, Ramón, and Walter haven’t been in the store for a long time now.  We didn’t mark their last visit or say goodbye.  One day we just realized they hadn’t come in.
I’m told Julio and Ramón died more than a year ago, and Walter’s gone now, too.  I think of them whenever I think of spring and farming and Burpee seeds.  It makes me look around to see what’s missing.  Then I memorize what we have left in case it comes up missing next year.  What I’m trying to say is, if I’d known it was my last Burpee seed display, I would have paid more attention.
Editor’s note: This column was first published in Corrales Comment 26 years ago, but readers said it was one of their favorites. Jean Waszak agreed to have it published again in this special Garden and Landscape issue. Other columns of hers may re-appear from time to time.


Even though movie theaters are closed during this pandemic there are other ways to see films, such as via Netflix and many streaming options. For those who would like to see first-run films which would be in theaters now, Albuquerque’s own independent Guild Cinema is offering home viewing options. You can find a wide list of films at Guild Cinema, and a portion of the screening fee goes to support the Guild. Unless otherwise noted, all films reviewed here are available at that link. This is a time to support each other and local businesses (including newspapers), if you can!

Vinyl Nation HHHHH Directed by Christopher Boone and Kevin Smokler. Plugs: The record industry in general. Available at for a limited time. There’s been a recent slew of what might be dubbed nostalgia documentaries, films that look back fondly on historical trends and their efforts to remain relevant. Vinyl Nation is a recent entry about music record albums, along with California Typewriter (2016), which sang the virtues of old-school typewriters and focused on California Typewriter, one of the last typewriter repair shops in America, and The Last Blockbuster (2020) about, yes, the last remaining Blockbuster Video store in the world.

Vinyl Nation co-director Smokler is author of the book Brat Pack America: A Love Letter to ‘80s Teen Movies (full disclosure: I have a signed copy, purchased at the Guild) which ably mines nostalgia for classic 1980s teen films such as The Breakfast Club, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, The Goonies, and many more. Netflix has a slew of current documentary series available including High Score (about the emergence of video games from Pac-Man to Mortal Kombat) and The Toys That Made Us (from Masters of the Universe to My Little Pony and the Cabbage Patch Kids).

There will be, I suppose, probably one day be a documentary about the magic that is eight-track tapes; I may pass on that one. One limitation of these sorts of films is that it’s sometimes hard to know what to include beyond the subculture of those wistfully embracing the medium. That’s the meat and potatoes, and satisfying to anyone who remembers or embraces records.

Vinyl Nation visits a dozen or so different cities where a diverse cross-section of audiophiles offer their insights, from record store owners to record manufacturing companies to the fans. And what fans they are! Vinyl Nation has its share of aging hippies who recount the first time they heard their favorite record, but extols the diversity of record fans, highlighting women, girls and people of color. The expanding demographic appeal of records has helped buoy the industry, with —as I was surprised to learn— Instagram stars promoting them. The audio snobs, a sort of blend of snooty wine experts and Comic Book Man from The Simpsons, are mentioned but generally disrespected; as one person notes, the record industry is precarious enough without their grating and dismissive presence.

Those in the film speak of the listening experience of a record, of hearing an album from a piece of vinyl in the order the musician wanted. No skipping or repeating. No random shuffle. Just a heat-and scratch-vulnerable piece of vinyl that is embraced for its limitations and tangible experience of interior art, liner lyrics, and so on. But at some point you’ve spoken to enough of a variety of subjects that you’ve hit on most of the main themes. Where do you go from there? Well, Vinyl Nation looks at how records are actually manufactured, from the tiny nuggets of raw vinyl to the pressing plates and the packaging.

Vinyl Nation is at its best when documenting the rise and fall (and somewhat surprising rise again) of the record business. In a world where books and records have been prematurely declared dead multiple times, the revival of the record is a curious case. I wouldn’t have imagined ten years ago that one could walk into a Target or Wal-Mart and buy a record, but sure enough there they are. One historian opines that record sales began declining around the time of Michael Jackson’s Thriller, and never recovered. DJs embraced records, perhaps most popularly Terminator X of Public Enemy, Jam Master Jay of RUN-DMC, and DJ Spinderella of Salt-N-Pepa. It never died out and has been on the rebound for years.

 Vinyl Nation feels padded and could have been about 15 minutes shorter —or used some of the time spend revisiting interviewees to instead look at other aspects of records. Album cover art, for example, is mentioned only in passing but is a significant part of the “record experience” that is so lovingly described. Perhaps some discussion or interviews with art directors behind iconic album covers might have been interesting to explore. To be fair, it’s not hard to find material on the images behind Abbey Road, Dark Side of the Moon, or Born in the U.S.A., for example, and you can’t cover them all but it might have been interesting to have fans reflect on the beauty of a great cover instead of a postage-stamp icon on a laptop streaming Spotify.

 The perpetual vinyl-versus-compact disc audio debate is raised and soon put aside, noting that there are countless factors in how music sounds, from your speakers to your hearing to sound dampening in the room. Bottom line: if it sounds good to you, then it’s good. Vinyl Nation is an engaging documentary and walk down memory lane that may just make you dust off your record collection and give it some appreciation.
Benjamin Radford


By Meredith Hughes
Labor Day, upcoming, just ain’t what it used to be, with so many of us toiling from home. But hey—we are all Zoom experts now, and while many of the area’s usual bounty of events are postponed or cancelled, as well they should be, there indeed are many cultural offerings online, many books to be read on or off Kindle, and those tomatoes/zucchini/eggplant/chiles to devour.

Email further suggestions to Published the first issue of the month, What’s (Maybe Not) On? invites ideas one week before the publication date.

• BurnZozobra is remote and free this year, on September 4. Watch at 8 p.m. on KOAT Channel 7 and live-stream the event from Fort Marcy Park at Z, a 50 foot “bogeyman marionette,” “the gloomy one,” first appeared in Santa Fe in 1924, and has been devoured by flame ever since, taking with him bad stuff. Maybe even COVID-19? Since 1963 the Z has served as a fundraiser for Kiwanis.
• Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe is offering a series of webinars. September 9, for artists new to marketing, the program is Business of Art: Pricing Your Artwork, then Building a Website, September 16. 5:30 to 6:30 via Zoom.
• Keshet Dance Party is urging us to get up and move, remotely, yet with friends and family, Thursdays, via Zoom. 4:30 p.m. weekly. Keshet is an Albuquerque non-profit which encourages “unlimited possibilities through dance.” 699172982 Meeting ID: 699 172 982
• The 2nd annual NM Prickly Pear Festival, September 12, from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., is going virtual. The all things Prickly Pear fest will hold its cooking demonstrations, talks, music, and activities online. Get tickets online here:
• Chile Peppers: A Global History, by pepper pundit Dave DeWitt, September 16, 6 p.m., a book launch remotely from Bookworks. There’s a pepper competition involved as well. To RSVP for the virtual book launch, email
• 75th anniversary of the Ending of WW2 Virtual Symposium, September 19, 8:30 a.m. and 10:45 a.m. The National Museum of Nuclear Science & History in Albuquerque hopes to provide an understanding of the Manhattan Project and its implications on the Pacific conflict and following Cold War issues. Register and buy tickets at
• Chatter, the Albuquerque entity that pre-pandemic provided fans of classical music and poetry concerts at intimate, informal venues, especially on Chatter Sundays, is releasing past events via SoundCloud. Players featured earn royalties.
• Outdoor Field School, beginning September 10, where youth ages 9-12 will explore, discover, and learn about the natural world through fun, hands-on outdoor science. All participants masked and socially distanced. Weekly from September through October. The Introductory Class fee is $20. Registration required due to limited group size. Register online at Open Space Visitor Center, 6500 Coors. 768-4959.
• The BioPark Botanic Garden itself has adjusted hours. Adding cooler evening hours, limiting hot afternoon hours. The Garden will operate from 8 a.m.-2 p.m. daily. The last time slot for the day will begin at 1 p.m. and the facility will close at 2 p.m. with all visitors being asked to leave at that time. Evening hours from 5-8:30 p.m. on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. The last time slot will begin at 7:30 p.m. and the facility will close at 8:30 p.m. Plus, the Garden is offering discounts to New Mexico residents. Timed entries, secured here. Guests are encouraged to bring their own reusable water bottles, as public water fountains will be turned off. 2601 Central.
• Albuquerque Museum is a Museum School. With multiple online/at home learning projects. One is for pre-schoolers. (Ages 4–6) $45 Online through Zoom. Class is designed for child and their adult caregiver. Spark your and your child’s creativity with fun and playful activities. Give young students the tools to explore the endless possibilities that shapes and colors can communicate to the world. September 8, 15, 22, 29, 10 to 11 a.m. But also, thus far still offered, actual classes at the museum. For older students, Kids Paint Corona, $75. From September 10. “During these unprecedented times when children are feeling more isolated from their peers, this class will provide a creative community for young artists. They will have the opportunity to witness and be witnessed as they translate and map their experiences during the Coronavirus, creating a visual diary of sorts. Thoughtful art projects will give children the chance to express themselves visually where words sometimes fall short. Registration required here:

Did You Know?
Some think a mechanic created Labor Day, others, a carpenter. Whichever you choose, it appears the day was a creation of the labor movement and is “dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers.”

The first Labor Day holiday was celebrated on Tuesday, September 5, 1882, in New York City, in accordance with the plans of the Central Labor Union. The Central Labor Union held its second Labor Day holiday just a year later, on September 5, 1883.

By 1894, 23 more states had adopted the holiday, and on June 28, 1894, President Grover Cleveland signed a law making the first Monday in September of each year a national holiday.

In Corrales
• Music in Corrales has lined up its next season, with the probability of the season occurring unknown. Members and patrons decided not to offer any virtual concerts, at least not as yet…You can look through the lineup here: But: “Due to the current prohibition against large gatherings, the prospects for concerts in our 2020-21 season are uncertain.  Accordingly, we will not offer season tickets this year.  Instead, we will offer tickets for individual concerts in advance on a concert-by-concert basis only when we are confident that a concert can be successfully produced and safely held.  We will post information here on the status of each concert as we gain more clarity about their likelihood, and will let you know how you can purchase tickets for the concerts that can be produced.  Thank you for your understanding and support.”
• Corrales Harvest Festival is a virtual extravaganza, this year, with events daily from September 24-October 11. Casa San Ysidro is offering video tours of the museum, and looks at crafts and art, as part of the festival. While things still are evolving, you can keep an eye on what’s available here:
• Corrales Pet Mayor Election began September 1, with all the candidates assembled. Vote online, $5 per vote, to fund animal projects in the village.
• Village Council meetings. Scheduled via teleconference. September 8, 22, 6:30 p.m. Consult the Village website for up to date info on these remote gatherings.
• Corrales Library: Open for “curbside” book pickup, between 12 and 3 p.m., Tuesday through Saturday. Reserve items online as you usually do. Confirm they are in, then pick them up. 897-0733. Saturday Stitch Club, September 12 from 10:30 a.m. - 11:30 a.m. Author Series: Mary P. Davis, September 29 from 7:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. Café a las seis, Thursdays, 6:00 -7:00 p.m.
• Corrales Historical Society The CHS October 32nd Old Church Fine Arts Show is scheduled for October 1-31. The show will be totally online, and it’s still a juried show, this year featuring 50 of New Mexico’s finest artists who will showcase a variety of art forms. You’ll be able to meet the artists online, and select special pieces of fine art to buy. Corrales artists Barbara Clark, Sandra Corless, Linda Dillenback, Ken Duckert, Susanna Erling, Joan Findley, Rex Funk, Diane Gourlay, Gail Harrison, Sue Hoadley, Ken Killebrew, Barbara Marx, Victoria Mauldin, Jude Rudder, Tina Stallard, and Mary Sue Walsh, are among the 50. The committee is still developing a website just for the show. Meanwhile, check for further information.
• Corrales Growers’ Market. Regular season continues, 9 a.m. to noon, Sundays, as long as shoppers follow the rules. September 6, 13, 20, and 27. “Masks that cover your mouth and nose are required at all times, dogs are not currently allowed, and Apple Tree Cafe will be serving to-go food only. A vendor list will be posted weekly. Early birders take note: The market says “due to the high volume of customers arriving before 9, and that we continue to operate under the covid-19 rules, we will be limiting the number of people allowed to enter the Market at opening. If you don’t want to wait, arrive between 9:30 a.m. and 9:45 a.m.” Wednesdays, also from 9 a.m. to noon. Check to view list of vendors for the Sunday market.
• Corrales Arts Center location is closed. Check out upcoming virtual activities at You may reach CAC at
• Village in the Village, ViV, continues its services to members, within Covid19 guidelines, and also is offering events, including coffee meet-ups (?), via Zoom. Questions? Please contact the Membership Team at or call 274-6206.

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