Tied to the Post

A square deal for artists

It was an exceptionally nice day at Twin Rocks Trading Post. Outside the weather was hovering in the low 70s with a mild breeze from the west. The sun was shining, the leaves budding, and everything was shaping up beautifully. Priscilla was on a roll and, like the economy in general, the numbers...

Twin Rocks Museum treasures

Visitors to Twin Rocks Trading Post often comment that the shop looks like a museum. Our primary mission is to sell jewelry, baskets, and Navajo rugs, but the statement is still flattering. A few days ago, a woman walked through the Kokopelli doors, took a quick look around, and declared, “This...

The finger troubles her no more

Although I’m not sure why, Mary Holiday Black has been on my mind lately. Mary is an integral part of the Twin Rocks Trading Post history. Unfortunately, we haven’t seen her in several years and we miss her. All this has brought back memories of a certain time when she visited regularly. But for a...

Ah, Spring!

It’s been a long, tough winter for most of us, and we are happy to trade it in for spring. Here in Bluff, life is busting out all over, with temperatures averaging in the mid-70s and wind rising every afternoon. Tiny buds are becoming blossoms and hope is on the horizon. The Rose of Sharon bush in...

An old ’59

Once in a while, I am the designated morning manager at Twin Rocks Café. While the cooks prepare breakfast, frying bacon, cracking eggs, and making frybread, I sometimes stand at the south-facing picture windows, waiting for the sun to crest the eastern horizon. When it does, the sandstone cliffs...

Gone home

The other day Priscilla had gone home early, and it was Rick’s off day, so I was alone in the trading post when the telephone rang. “Can I speak with the manager or someone in charge,” the voice on the other end asked. “Sure,” I responded, “I think I can help. What’s up?” “You have one of my mom...

Two kids gone

I am in a funk, and this monumental muddle is affecting my ability to negotiate for Navajo baskets, trade for turquoise, and bargain for beads. Indeed, I can hardly function at all. Fortunately, Priscilla and Rick are here to manage things while I mope about. Without them, this would be a...

Livin’ outside the box

During the 1970s and ‘80s, “Thinking outside the box” became the watch phrase for solving conventional problems using unconventional means. Once introduced, this metaphor was quickly adopted by the business community, and over the intervening years has seeped into every aspect of our daily lives,...

A rafter of wild turkeys

It was a blustery morning; the day was just getting started and I was cold. Cold is one thing I do not get along with anymore, so I sought out a sunlit corner and looked out over the Jones hay farm, inviting the nascent rays to penetrate my hide and warm my bones. Warmer weather was testing the...

Caterpillar to butterfly

When Kira and Grange were young and their vocabularies were just developing, their misfires often made me laugh out loud. During that period, we lived in the apartment above the trading post, so they were constantly wandering in and out of the store. It was common for them to be here countless...