On April 26, Independent Bookstore Day, I had the pleasure of doing a reading and signing at Black Cat Books and Coffee in Truth or Consequences. There were fresh flowers on the table where I was set up in the back room. 
To my surprise, the room was like a museum honoring a beloved Sierra County musician and luthier, the late Bill Bussman. He and his wife lived out in the middle of nowhere beyond Hillsborough, one of our living ghost towns, but people throughout this area and all over the country knew him because of his musicianship and the instruments he created. He was truly an original—warm and funny with irresistible charm. To learn more, read this article about him and this thread of posts from other musicians acknowledging his passing and sharing their memories of him. One of them mentions him playing the stand-up bass that had an Elvis head and a little red sneaker on its foot that tapped in time to the music. I heard him play that bass many times over the years. The bass wasn’t at Black Cat with me, but a number of his quirkiest creations were: the red chiles, the watermelons, and the bass bass. (Note the knives in the watermelons.) 
While I was there, I had the pleasure of meeting fascinating people. Some were buying my books. Some of were there to talk—about my writing, about their writing, about their travels and families, and more. A retired New Age pastor told me about the life she left behind in California and some behind-the-scenes tales of famous spiritual teachers—a bit like something out of one of my books. When people tell me stories, it helps me write stories. And surely, the spirit of Bill Bussman lent light and delight to us all.
Month: April 2025
Senior Woman Seen Doing Flips!
An ad for one of the national EV 
charging networks shows a woman doing tree pose while her car charges. It seemed like a good idea to me, except for standing beside the charger. The charging station at the Dona Ana County Government office center in Las Cruces is right next to a busy street and in full sun. I plugged in my car and found a quiet, shaded place for yoga, a large, recessed area between the county offices and the sheriff’s department. I took off my hat and left it on the paved floor, then did basic standing poses (Warrior One, Warrior Two, and related poses), then some one-legged standing balance poses. I was right side up, which matters later. For seated poses, I moved to a bench, since I didn’t want to sit on the pavement. Then I collected my hat and returned to my car, relaxed and refreshed, but sneezing.
I was sitting with the door open taking a stinging nettle capsule for allergies when suddenly there were people outside my car. Two sheriff’s deputies, a young woman and a very large man.
The woman wanted to know what I was doing. I thought, “Oh my gosh, do they think I’m using drugs?” Alarmed, I said, “I’m taking my allergy medication.” I’d already swallowed it and couldn’t show it was a harmless herb.
“Someone reported that you were doing flips, and they wanted to know that you were all right.”
Flips? I got out of my car. “I was doing yoga. I was stretching. I didn’t flip.”
“This person was worried about you. You left your bag.”
“I didn’t have a bag. I’d put my hat down.”
“We needed to check that you’re okay.”
So, I executed a deep forward bend with straight knees, hands flat on the ground, then repeated the three one-legged balances in sequence, never putting the second foot down as I made the transitions. “I did that. I think that means I’m okay, right?
The female deputy said, “Yeah, I can’t do that.”
“Okay, then?”
They allowed that I was and left.
Amber Foxx Mysteries 