Mom and Rob, Iowa CityScan 13 Had trouble this morning rounding up photos of Mom and six children — our births weren’t exactly an orderly succession — but just wanted to say every day is Mother’s Day at dream ranch.

Scan 6 Scan 9

For Nancy Jane Bjelke to Nancy Harper, it was a big journey from Granville, Ohio, to Lennep, Montana, sometimes chaotic and not always easy, but I think she stayed happy. We loved her all the way. And she’s still with me every day.

Here are five of us back in 2002, missing Rob, the guy getting a bath in the first photo and who we lost in 1990. Hi, Mom.

Scan 10

IMG_0175baltimore

Looked west from Placitas this morning but thought east.

Baltimore was on my mind. I asked the Internet about the city’s underlying problems. Found more than I bargained for.

Cooper got a professional spring cleaning to help keep him cooler in the coming months. mrclean1

My treatment for lung cancer has gone well so far and — strange as it might sound — I hopefully will be scheduled for surgery later this month.

mrclean2

IMG_0155IMG_0152IMG_0156

WEATHER: Finally, real rain. Not virga, not barreling through like a train with another destination. It’s drumming on my flat roof at 6:30 this morning, pouring from the canales, wakening white blossoms on the Apache Plume, reddening the flagstone outside my bedroom window.

It’s too good to sleep through, even early on a Sunday.

I grab my point-and-shoot before I make coffee.

CANCER: Friends have been asking, and so I report: The radiologist’s narrative following my first CT scan since completing seven weeks of radiation and chemotherapy for lung cancer began with the words “significant favorable response.”

Now, it is on to a surgeon. I meet with him and the oncologist this coming week. I’ve  already been told I probably can expect more chemotherapy.

Since an x-ray on Dec. 3  and a biopsy on Jan. 12, I have been telling people I will know more the following week. This continues to be the case.

I feel fine except for trying to keep my wind with a partly collapsed lung on uphill walks. Friends say I look great, at least relative to cancer treatment. I continue to be optimistic. I am happy this morning.

I think the glass is half full and half empty. All I’m sure of is that I’ve got cancer. I am told lung cancer is difficult to treat. I struggle to understand the science, but I think I have learned that this is a long and complex haul. And I am trying to learn to live with it.

sararecliner Our neighbor friend Sara probably would have preferred that I bought a full-fledged recliner instead of this chair and footstool arrangement, but she has figured out how to make it work for her: backside on the stool, chin on my knee, not bothered by the gap in between.

Resident reclining expert Cooper, Sara’s pal, sometimes can’t believe his eyes.

riseandshine

First thing I do in the morning is check the sky.

IMG_0129 In New Mexico, it is almost always sharply clear and strikingly blue.

Next, I go to the newspapers. The view is not so good here.

In the headlines, I quickly see New Mexico’s underbelly — so soon after taking in the sky.

Today, on the Albuquerque Journal’s website, ABQjournal.com, it was, “Woman strangled girlfriend’s dog to death, police say.”

And, all to often — my view jolted from broad, blue sky to East Central Avenue motel — it is something like this Journal story in March: “Baby rushed to hospital with bleeding brain; 3 adults charged.”

A sense of justice came with this February headline in the Journal: “Parents shot by 2-year-old charged with child abuse.” But it didn’t make the morning news any prettier.

I worked at the Albuquerque Journal for 33 years, and I’m still not sure whether Albuquerque is just a rough place or the Journal pays more attention to the roughness than papers in other cities do with their backyards.

These days, it also doesn’t take me long to start thinking about drought. And with drought, I again have to consider the range of my lens, as I did a couple of mornings ago with this story in the New York Times.

A Long History of Drought

Analysis of tree rings suggests that western states have had many droughts of two decades or longer, including two megadroughts lasting longer than 100 years.

  We tend to comprehend weather patterns with the lens of our own lifetime experience, an immediately silly notion once you look at something like the New York Times graphic, which examines wet and dry dry cycles in western states from 1 A.D. to present.
  You would need more than a fine point pen and a magnifying glass to fit my recollections of snowy winters in New Mexico in the 1970s — being able to cross-country ski in arroyos off the Old Las Vegas Highway outside of Santa Fe or the then-undeveloped slopes of low-lying Atalaya — on the New York Times chart.
  The Times story contained this wonderful data-based view of drought:
  “But scientists say that in the more ancient past, California and the Southwest occasionally had even worse droughts — so-called megadroughts — that lasted decades. At least in parts of California, in two cases in the last 1,200 years, these dry spells lingered for up to two centuries.

  “The new normal, scientists say, may in fact be an old one.”IMG_0122

IMG_0127

Meanwhile, our big Placitas rain storm on April 14, barreled through here in 30 minutes or so, headed in the direction of Tucumcari. It hurried out of the west about 5, but looked like this by sunset, leaving only what the weather pros would depressingly call “trace amounts” of rain.

Still, I continue to look skyward.

IMG_0115 Good evening. It was shaping up to be a gloomy, Turbo Tax kind of a day until I read the last paragraph of the New York Times obituary for the writer Ivan Doig.

A Doig quote sparkled at me like a shiny stone on a worn path — lasting brilliance in a notice of death.

Like other prominent authors writing west of the Mississippi, Doig resisted the “Western writer” label often used by book reviewers and critics.

“I don’t think of myself as a ‘Western’ writer,” the Times story quotes from Doig’s website. “To me, language — the substance on the page, that poetry under the prose — is the ultimate ‘region,’ the true home, for a writer.”

Actually, there were other bright spots today.

Cooper and I had company from Sara while I put my nose to the grindstone and got my taxes done. A neighbor gave me a good-looking leather chair. I chatted with other neighbors on the road home from a walk. And I got a homemade oatmeal cookie delivery from Santa Fe.

Here is Sara, by the way, in a photo by her owner, another neighbor, Lori, who managed to capture with her iPhone the yellow of the April fields of Fendler bladderpods that I can’t seem to get with mine.SarainApril

Scan 5

The writer Ivan Doig, born in White Sulphur Springs, Montana, died at home today in Seattle. I don’t know what to say except that I am saddened, that he was one of my favorites and that he seemed to be thoughtful and hard-working throughout his life. His writing talent is for all to enjoy in this book. I have read it more than once and,  I’m sure, will read it again down the road. This copy is the last thing my mother sent me before she died at home at Lennep, Montana, in 1979, shortly after its publication. It will always be on my top shelf.

Few things look sillier to me in newspaper retirement than breathless newspaper speculation about who will win the major party presidential nominations in 2016.starting gates

I used to do it myself, of course. It’s standard fare for politics writers and editors. And speculation is one of the easiest forms of journalism. But, these days, I tend to yawn as the horses chomp on their bits on the way to the starting gate.

I’ve been more worried about breathing two-days worth of wind-driven New Mexico pollen and dust.

So, I didn’t study hard when I came across this headline this morning in the New York Times:

The G.O.P. Presidential Field Looks Chaotic. It’s Not”

Neither was I blown away when I read in the Times that:

Lincoln Chafee Explores Presidential Run as a Democrat

“With no advance warning, the Democratic race for president got a surprise new contender on Thursday.”

I wouldn’t call my reaction surprise, although I was prompted to remind myself on the Internet that Rhode Island (4), where Chaffee is a former governor and U.S. senator, has one fewer electoral votes than New Mexico (5). It’s not a state that gives you much of a head start.

I was slightly saddened to read, though, that, “Mr. Chafee’s news caught political observers off guard.” Speculators always hate being scooped by the horse’s mouth, even if the quote news, as in this case, is only a quote exploratory move.

And I am glad there is no chaos in the Republican presidential field, according to the Times.  But even there were, I think I might just wait and see who’s left standing. From an entertainment perspective, things haven’t yet reached the rhetorical level of a pre-fight weigh-in.

I didn’t bother to look for the latest Hillary Clinton news. I figure at least two or three feverish stories will come my way before the day is out.

I’m interested in who’s lining up at the gate, but I’m also aware that the nominations — although often predetermined — won’t be formally made until July of 2016.

As for voter participation, I sense that I won’t have much impact in the interim, as the big wheels of campaign finance and get rolling and media provide plenty of gas for trial balloons.

Nor do I feel like I’m going to get much individual attention in this period of candidates testing waters thick with self-importance.

I still get Internet pleas for money from all kinds of candidates — probably because I am registered as an independent — and I was a little indignant when I got a note that began this way from Rand Paul  — on the very day he told us he would run:

“Dear John: I don’t have much time … “