Leaving New Mexico in 1999 and moving to Texas was difficult for me - I lost a large part of my inventory of jokes. New Mexicans see themselves as being a bit better than Texans and have many jokes to prove it.
Therefore - “The wind isn’t blowing - its just that Texas sucks.”
The last day in Muleshoe, both were true.
Sunday morning dawned bright and calm - and we wondered about the dire predictions of the Lubbock television weather guys who said we were under a high wind warning, a blowing dust warning and a dust storm warning. By mid-morning, we realized the forecast was correct.
Winds picked up to 65 miles per hour gusts - and all the freshly plowed top soil in the area began to move itself from one county to the next.
(As usual, be sure to click on the photos to see the larger version.)
We had planned to attend a quarter horse race in the afternoon, but after seeing how fierce the storm was, we knew no right-minded cowboy would race his horse out in that mess. If you are standing in the field, you can close your eyes, but when racing, it is best to have your eyes wide open. These poor guys were in a field near the race track.
But the weekend was about two brothers who live too far apart. Fueled by my brother’s excellent home brew beer, an occasional cigar and the absence of wives, we swapped many a story and opinion.
I even had the chance to snap a few shots of him just being himself. He kinda looks like one of the locals, doesn't he - - except for the ball cap that says “Colorado Native.” The bib overalls made him right at home at the auction.
So - thanks, Bro. I had a great time. Even better, I reconnected with my great brother.
And yes, Muleshoe was the perfect place to reconnect.