My beloved subscribers —
Apologies, but I must step away for a bit. I am moving over 2,000 miles, all on the ground, and I need to “go dark” (hate that phrase) for the next week and a half.
I am headed to the family orchard in Broad Brook, after a nine-year, one-month experiment living and working in New Mexico. “Wonderful and horrible” is how I’d describe this near-decade. (That’s not a bad assessment of life itself.) Praise the old gods and the new, the high desert’s radiation hormesis has made me healthier than I’ve ever been. (No joke, folks.) My time here has been filled with dogs — not just the English Cream Golden Retrievers I have partial ownership of, but a Chien de Montagne des Pyrénées pack that accepted me as one of its own, two very unique Goldendoodles, a Boerboel who looks like Satan’s hellhound but is actually the world’s biggest wuss, and many other Corrales canines. And it sure was nice to live where the sun shines 310 days a year.
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