Is that a Mesa or a Crested Butte?

It’s a lot harder to find the answer to that question on Google than it should be (complicated by the fact that both Mesa and Crested Butte are names of towns). We’ve been passing a lot of them, and we did in particular last night on the way to Ojo Caliente to…wait, wait, don’t tell me: soak in hot springs. Really. I’m not kidding. My skin is going to fall off. Actually, Ojo was beautiful—9 pools with cliffs in the backdrop (illuminated at night, of course) and I felt full of mineral-y goodness: iron, soda, arsenic. Arsenic is supposed to be good for the skin. I don’t know—I went into the sauna, opened up my pores, and soaked in arsenic, figuring I’d wake up in the morning beautiful or dead (very Emma Bovary). Neither happened, (un)fortunately, but it was a fun night anyway, and so so dark on the way home, with lightning storms flashing in the distance over the mountains.

I also did a little piddling around in town today—hit the oldest church in the US (Mission San Miguel: awesome altar piece), saw a very famous statue of Mary in the Cathedral (real hair! real clothes! born in 1625!), relived an Unsolved Mysteries moment at the Loretto Chapel staircase (33 steps, 2 complete 360 degree turns, completely free-standing, and, as legend has it, built entirely with a saw and some cups of water to bend the wood by a mysterious carpenter who appeared on the ninth day of a nun’s novena and never stayed to claim his pay). I also discovered that I have no interest in most of the shops on the Plaza. I’m holding out for the flea market to buy folk art and jewelry. In the meantime, how about a shopping poll? Please guide my hand about an expensive but fabulous dress!