It’s a Boy! Or a Girl! Or Both!
Tuesday morning when I headed out by foot to Basha’s, I noticed something different about Mama Mockingbird in our tree out front. When I looked harder, I saw her, but I also saw another set of eyes. A baby mockingbird! If you look really carefully, there might be another set of eyes as well.
And this is when the drama begins. Mama M will feed the birds for a bit, but at some point she is going to force them to leave the nest. The cats/snakes/coyotes are eagerly awaiting that day. In the words of my son Court when asked if he wanted to go on a nature hike when he was about 7 years old, “I hate nature.”
And Here’s Why I Don’t Really Hate Nature
Bill and I went for a walk at nearby Red Mountain Park Monday morning. Red Mountain Park is lovely. There is a good-sized pond stocked with fish, and it is widely used. There is a nice playground for children. And there is a sidewalk that goes completely around the park that is 8/10ths of a mile around. Three laps nearly equal two-and-a-half miles in case you can’t do math. We saw the cutest thing ever. We saw a real Mother Goose, her beloved mate-for-life, and their goslings, somewhere in the neighborhood of eight or so. I am not Ansel Adams (though, in my defense, I’m using a crappy phone camera and not a cool and groovy camera with a fancy dancy lens), but you can kind of see the little goslings being led and followed by Mother and Father. You can see them all a bit better in the second photo. I wonder which was the female and which was the male.
Now I Call This Huevos
I have mentioned before that there is a difference between the Mexican food they serve here and that which they serve in Colorado. Green chili is not a thing here. Chile verde, yes. Green chili with pork, not so much. When we were in Denver recently, we had breakfast at my favorite place for green chili in Denver – Santiago’s. They are renowned for their hot green chili. Normally, when I order a smothered burrito, I ask for half & half – half hot and half medium. Because I had been missing green chili so much, I ordered all of it hot. Oh. My. Heavens. It was H.O.T. indeed. But delicious. I ate every bite. My stomach spoke to me later and said, “Why oh why did you think this was a good idea?”
I have a friend visiting from Denver. To show off our beautiful area, we drove to Saguaro Lake yesterday afternoon. That is really one of my favorite drives ever. Our plan was to eat sandwiches at one of the picnic areas, and then return home. At the last minute, we decided to take the lake cruise on the Desert Belle. We were so glad we did. It was pretty and we all enjoyed it very much.
I Have Croissant on My Back
As you know, I accompanied Bill Saturday when he enjoyed his NASCAR experience. As he awaited his ride, I sat amongst the other people who were watching their loved one or perhaps awaiting their own turn. There was a young man sitting with his girlfriend/wife waiting to drive one of the NASCARs. As I glanced at him, I saw the word Bagel tattooed onto his neck. I looked at it several times, all the time wondering why anyone would get the word Bagel tattooed onto their neck. Was he a baker? Did he run a Jewish deli? Did he simply like bagels so much that he wanted the word permanently placed on the neck where he could publicly declare his love of this chewy breakfast treat? Finally, I realized that the word was not Bagel; instead it was Angel.
Now, arguably, it makes no sense to have the word Angel – or any other word, for that matter – tattooed permanently onto one’s neck, but I must admit it gave me some relief when I realized my mistake. Angel, next time you consider a tattoo, ask them not to make the curlicue on the A. And enjoy your bagel.