I can’t imagine people looking at this desert land and thinking it was a good place to build. It’s a harsh land. Heat in the summer, snow in winter, limited water. And yet, these pueblos are a testament to man’s ingenuity, and strength to not only live, but thrive in such a landscape.

Rather than take the bus down, Cassie and I opted to walk down. Yes, we could have taken the road… but didn’t realize until we were half way down the “path” that it was closer to rock climbing (down) than walking.

Here’s Cassie, leading the way. Me, I’m taking my time. Scooting on my butt when I have to, and I have a death grip on the handholds in the sandstone bluffs.

I stopped to look up and took this picture. It really doesn’t look as scary as it was.

The dark part in the center of the cliff is the “path” we took down.

I kept teasing Cassie, “Who’s idea was this anyway?” (it was Cassie’s but truth be told, I said, “Sure, let’s walk down.” I wanted to take pictures. Oh the sacrifices I make for my art!

You can see all my photos here:

I’m not ready for middle age!

I never thought of myself as vain. Well, not much anyway. But as I prepare to move to a new place, and meet new people– young(er) people– I realize that I do care about these things.

And as I get older I realize that, whether I like it or not, people DO judge you by your looks.

I’m not lookin’ as good as I used to. I’m seeing more fine lines than before, around my eyes and lips. My skin seems to be thinner, with a little less bounce. The gray hair seems to come in a little quicker. And I don’t like it. Not one bit. I find myself wearing makeup now to cover up those tell-tale splotches and spending money on revitalizing creams and scrubs and such.

And then I had to go take that damn quiz at RealAge.com and find out I’m even older than I thought!

Have you taken your Real Age quiz yet? Be afraid. Be very afraid.