The Burrow

You'll be reading this on the date the National Weather Service has decided our monsoon ends.  The official declaration notwithstanding, that same NWS predicts lots of rainfall for the rest of this week. It poured all day.  Big fat raindrops making a satisfying plop on the pavement.  My windshield wipers working overtime.  People driving 20 miles under the speed limit because, y'know, it's raining. But now the sun is out.   The air smells of creosote. The sky is blue overhead, though there's a storm brewing over Mt. Lemmon that is heading our way.  I'm going outside to pull weeds and plant seeds, taking advantage of the softer, rain drenched soil. I'll be back tomorrow with something deeper.  Right now, the earth is calling.

And yes, for the third day in a row it is raining.   I have fertilized the lemon tree and the languishing desert willow, allowing Mother Nature to insure that the nutrients are watered in thoroughly.  Other than that, I haven't been outside all day.  I was going to remedy that situation in this brief interlude between raindrops, but looking out the window changed my mind. What was moving out there? photographed through my front window without a chance to fix the lights behind me. A javelina.  This fellow was all alone, which I thought was odd.  They run in packs, I was told.   Knowing LiLou , I wasn't surprised that this visitor was rooting in the drainage trench running beneath the driveway. The beast, up close and more personal, crossed the road and vanished into the neighbor's yard. I closed the computer, slipped on my Kiziks, and glanced outside before I went for the mail... which turned out to be a good thing because there was the pack, cutti...

Both TBG and Taos Bubbe were awakened by a gigantic flash of lightning at 4:30 this morning.  It was followed by a choo-choo train's worth of thunder. I, of course, slept through the whole thing. The difference this time was that all that noise and electricity was followed by rain.  Real rain this time,  not seven drops over five minutes.  The down spouts were redistributing streams of water.  They weren't' the torrents of a true monsoon, but there was enough run off to fill the troughs leading out to the open space beyond. I drove to get my fasting lab blood work done with the windshield wipers doing their magic.  I drove home the same way.   TBG took me to breakfast and I wore my purple suede loafers.  I forgot about puddles in parking lots.  It's a good thing I can leap over them now.  The rain just kept coming.   It rained when I drove to Pilates but it was only drizzling when I came out.  That was enough to keep ...

It's my favorite weekend in Tucson.   Free to the public, there are hundreds of author presentations,  indie publishers hawking their wares,  tents devoted to science and food and racial justice, and a kids' village. There were giant games to play and an even bigger heart to walk through. There was a NASA Solar System Ambassador, whose explanation of gravity's effect on space actually penetrated my brain. Her outfit was outdone only by her demeanor.  She looked that happy even when she was explaining Einstein.  (By the way, did you know that Jupiter's day is longer than its year?) I was struck by the footwear of the men on one panel. I was in the front row for Jemelle Hill's fabulous sneakers.   It was sunny and in the 70's.   Visitors were in shorts and t-shirts, blue jeans and backpacks, baby strollers and wheelchairs. I have no idea what these two were up to. I didn't notice Jack Sparrow...

If your're reading this without the pictures of snow, come back a bit later in the morning. There's a ticker going across the bottom of the tv screen describing high winds and thunderstorms and snow until 11am Thursday.   I want to post it.  Come back when it's live. SNOW!!!

 We took Amster's knee for a walk today.  She's far enough post-surgery to feel confident walking up one hill and down another. The knee wrap is only to keep the scar from being sunburned.   We took our repaired body parts for a 3.6 mile jaunt at Sabino Canyon, part of the Coronado National Forest.  The parking lot was full, but there's overflow parking at the school across the street.  Adding another quarter mile before the trailhead was an issue for neither of us.   It is a beautiful road. The views are like this all the way up; we walked until just before the first bridge ... because there was a beach.  Across the 3' of sand, the rocky outcropping (I've always wanted to type that)  was a perfect place  to take a picture It was a lovely day to share.

This is the time of year when we start all our phone calls with a weather report.  While my grandchildren are throwing snowballs in Indiana, I am wearing shorts and wondering what to plant in my containers.  They are having a wonderful time, and I don't begrudge them a moment's pleasure.  But in my 8th decade, the warmth and sunny skies make November a much more palatable month. We do have our own opportunities for leaf peeping.  These two crepe myrtles were planted at exactly the same time, and share the same exposure.  Why one is orange and the other is red, remains a mystery . The  Pedilanthus bracteatus (Tall Slipper Plant) on the left lives in a 4' tall planter, mostly shaded from the sun.  The yellow branches need to be trimmed, another sign of fall.  Once it's cleaned up, there will be tiny red flowers sprouting f rom the most unlikely places.  They set off the little red and white Santa faces I hook onto their stalks. Yes, we have Ame...

It was a sunny Fall Sunday in Tucson, where no one was confused about the time because we never change our clocks.  Not-Kathy and I walked on  the multi-use path  for 2 miles before we began to shop.  It might sound counter-intuitive to get hungry before looking at groceries, but these were such healthy groceries, and the walk was the second in my Early New Year's Revolution (sic FlapJilly) of walking at least a mile, outside, every single day, so the Market at the end of the road seemed like a lovely congratulations from the world. Plus, there were lots of tables and chairs for resting and for eating, and the black clad young man on the left kept putting out more and more of them. As at all Farmers' Markets, there were plants. I won't dwell on the paucity of the vegetables available; this is the desert, after all.  But in addition to the few tables of onions and potatoes and squash, there was this display of mushrooms. Not-Ka...

The cashier at lunch  asked if we wanted to eat outside. Inside!  Please!  We live here.  It's cccccold out there.   She nodded in agreement :  I need my winter coat. But the cooler temperatures (low 60's with clouds and drizzle) perk up the greenery and release all kinds of enticing odors.  I'd been inside all morning; I took a stroll around my driveway when we got home.   The concept of the nurse tree  is nicely illustrated here. Shielding the saguaro's new growth, it allows for lots and lots of new arms.  The arrows just point out one side of the connection.  New things pop up in the most unexpected places, too.  I went to get a closer look at something and almost stepped  on these guys. Someone pooped out something that found a happy space and is propagating like the begats.  I usually attribute these to birds, but I may have to rethink that.  My walk included this remarkable series of small, symmet...

I'm convinced that balcony seats are perfect for watching a concert.  I'm a short person, so the tilt added to whatever tier-ing the architect constructed gives me more of a chance to avoid a big head dead center in my view. Saturday night, there was a larger fellow just to the left, but otherwise it was smooth sailing all the way down to Bonnie Raitt and her friends.  We were asked to refrain from photography, but the bows at the end felt like fair game.  The set changed colors with the music, and those six white lights were sometimes filled with red or yellow squares of blinking neon.  It was minimal and it was perfect.  She didn't need anything else. Howie from High School turned me on to her, either senior year or when we were back for our first vacations from college.  I felt quite hip when the clerk at the record store admired my taste.  I've seen her in concert over the years, and she never seems to age.  She's gracious with her thank you's...

and I feel fine! The sunset really did look like the end of the world. That's rain. The desert is amazing.

Curt Prendergast became our local paper' s Opinion editor after Brenda Starr moved away last Fall.  In doing so, he inherited the Thursday morning Zooms - a moderated community forum focusing on the issues (and sometimes the fun) in and around Tucson.   Juan Ciscomani is running for Congress (against Kirsten Engel, although from her total invisibility you would never know that she is in the race).   I've spoken to Ms Engel twice, and I'm convinced that her views align with mine.  I knew nothing about her opponent.  I'd not Zoomed with The Star since my friend left. I clicked through and found the link, made sure I was muted and that the video was off, then sat back for the show.  I was not disappointed. Curt Prendergast is laid back and tenacious, non-threatening and determined, pleasant and piercing.  Juan Ciscomani is well spoken and well dressed, a proud father and husband and son, and believes in everything that I don't.  They put on...

TBG is having a knee replacement next Tuesday.  Big Cuter is bringing his whole crew (wife, pig, work materials) on Saturday for some hands on loving and help.  We don't think his father will require heavy lifting, but it's good to know that someone larger than I am will be around should the need arise. In preparation for the arrival of guests whose food preferences differ from ours, I've been cleaning out the refrigerator and the freezer.  There were many interesting discoveries pushed behind taller containers.  Several of those discoveries introduced me to new colors.  I researched mold spores and found that soft cheeses allow for invisible-to-the-naked-eye strands of unhealthy-ness.  All of that is gone.   I read the Use By labels on everything and discarded appropriately.   I discovered that I should have bought more hot dogs at Costco.  I found the sour cream I knew I had but couldn't find ... a long time ago.  I consolida...

Europe is on fire. Here in Tucson, it's only the sky that is burning. This was the first night. And then there was this the next might. The yellow lights are the torchieres and the chandelier, but the rest is attributable to God. That lavender is something I haven't seen in anywhere else. We may have lost the race to combat climate change. I'm looking for anything to make that a more palatable situation. These sunsets fit the bill.  

Humidity is thick.   Overheated air is thick.   Thick air is hard to breathe.  It makes its presence known as you're walking to the only tree shaded spot left at the grocery store. ***** The trees love the extra moisture in the air.  Their pods are dropping.  Their leaves are greener.  But it cannot be said that they are thriving.  These intense, ten minute rainstorms don't penetrate deep into the soil, the way a long, slow soak can do. It can be raining in the back yard and not in the front.   The house can be in the eye of the storm; I can watch it rain on the mountains while I sit in the sunshine. ***** The sunsets are uniformly fabulous.  They are accented by dozens of bats feasting on dozens of flying insect swarms.   It's more fun to watch it from inside.  Being dive bombed by bats is even less fun than being consumed by infinitely small beasties. ***** I can't wait until the afternoon do do my daily swim....

That's a lot of degrees. There's the moment you touch the door handle of the sub shop and pull your hand away, quickly, before you leave skin on the metal. There's entering your car after a lovely, leisurely lunch, smiling happily until you are overwhelmed but the super-heated air inside. There are the sad and drooping native trees, adapted to this sort of thing so there's nothing to worry about, but still letting you know that they are stressed.  TBG keeps checking the palo verde just over the back wall; the branches are sagging, the pods are hanging lifelessly, and he's worried. I remind him that the leaves on these species curl in upon themselves, minimizing the loss of water by offering a smaller surface for transpiration.  They are not in danger.  They just look awful. So do most of the humans I pass.  We are entering the  as long as your parts are covered you meet our dress code  stage of dining.  Minimal is the new black when summer temps hit Tu...

I wore a sweatshirt this morning while I fussed outside.  My hands were delightfully cold when I finished my chores.  My legs, in shorts, were fine. I miss the snow, but not the shoveling.  I miss the crisp cold air, but not the breathing.   And now, for the next few weeks, I'll get to wear all my sweaters and sweatpants and wrap myself in the cozy blankets strewn around the house.   We can sleep with the windows open, listening to the trains, miles away but clear in the cooler air.  And the little birdies are back, on their way hither and yon, topping for a snack in the crepe myrtle.  If I open the door to take their picture, they'll fly away.  So, look at them as I do, from my desk chair, through the screen. Or, through the curved window up above. They remind me to stop and smell the flowers.  

JannyLou saw the review in her inbox.  A New York transplant's search for a real bagel  in Tucson led to the creation of a new shop - Bubbe's Bagels.  It's on the other side of town, but, as she said, Sunday morning is a good time for a drive - so off we went. Bubbe is Yiddish for Grandma; it's what Taos Bubbe's grandkids call her and what I adapted for her blogonym.  The shop definitely channels a Bubbe like mine.  On a shelf in the storefront was a red and white plaid Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook, a paperback Hadassah recipe collection, silver Shabbat candles and a wine cup for Elijah, as well as small coffee cups labeled shuguh  and cawfee ..... just like we said it in New York.  There are no personal touches in the chain bagel emporia.  This felt special. The line was out the door at 8:45 this morning, but it was moving fast.  There were pretty yellow cafe tables and chairs in the small courtyard just outside the bagels.  JannyL...

Taos Bubbe and I went to the Tucson Botanical Garden  last Friday.  She's new to town and I've made it my business to show her the sights.  These gardens are just the right size for the two hours allotted to our tickets purchased in advance, wear a mask inside visit.  We were greeted by painted horses, commemorating Tucson.  We are definitely house proud. We admired the plant on the way to breakfast at Edna's Cafe, where our serverbrought the garden and citrus salad in a plastic martini shaker.  It was a delightful and semi-ridiculous presentation. After breakfast, it was time for the Butterfly Exhibit.   They hide in plain sight. Did you notice these below in the photo above?   How about this one: The glasswork is as beautiful as the butterflies munching on oranges and bananas with their front feelers. We admired them for as long as we could stand the humidity beneath our masks, then walked to the exit (a 2 stage process - through one d...