Since my kids have been sick and I’m busy doing “a stimulus” of loads of laundry, you get one of my held-in-reserve-for-sick-kid-emergencies posts, and hypocrites who don’t pay their taxes but want to raise mine get a brief respite from my rapier wit. So breathe a sigh of relief, Mr. Emmanuel, and enjoy the travelogue, gentle readers.
Santa Fe sits in the foothills of a portion of the Rocky Mountains known as the Sangre de Cristo, which is Spanish for the Blood of Christ. The early Spanish settlers chose that name because the setting sun reflected on the snow-covered mountains and gave them a reddish hue at sunset. For the same reason, the mountains just east of Albuquerque were named the Sandia Mountains, from the Spanish for watermelon. Looking at the pinkish-red peaks of both ranges, I have often pondered the difference of temperament that would make one group of people think of watermelon, and another of the blood of the Savior.
When I was talking about the meaning of the mountains’ Spanish names with the girls, they asked what the “Jimenez” Mountains meant in English. The range is actually the Jemez, but because Elizabeth had a teacher once named Mrs. Jimenez, they always forget and think it’s that. I said I thought it was a proper name, and didn’t mean anything.
“A person’s name?” Cordelia asked, “like Dennis Jimenez?” It took me a minute to realize she meant Dennis the Menace.
So those are the three ranges we can see from Santa Fe: the Blood of Christ Mountains, the Watermelon Mountains, and the Dennis the Menace Mountains.