Author Archives: kzmclain

Saturday Smile: And I’m Checking Einstein’s Math

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There Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb
The crowns o’ the world; oh, eyes sublime
With tears and laughter for all time! —Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The other day Mylee was at our house, and Alastair came for a visit. Mylee was wearing a shirt that had this on the front: And though she be but little, she is fierce. — William Shakespeare

Let me say, by the way, that no truer words were ever spoken about our little Miss Mylee.

The shirt indicated it was a quote by William Shakespeare, but didn’t say from which play. So I put the question out to the people who were present, which included 11-year-old Alastair: From which play does this saying come? I didn’t know, so I was looking it up.

Alastair answered immediately. “Hmmmm,” he said. “I think it might be from A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Well, my mouth dropped open and I was speechless, because, you see, he was right.

Alastair has participated in the voluntary Shakespeare program sponsored by his school district. The program allows kids who choose to do so to be part of one of Shakespeare’s plays. They practice for a few weeks, and then go to downtown Denver and perform skits on the Sixteenth Street Mall.

As for Alastair, he ignored my amazement and went off to play with Legos like a normal 11-year-old boy.

Bill Kris Alastair 6.16

Have a great weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: Britt-Marie Was Here

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searchBritt-Marie Was Here, by Swedish author Fredrik Backman, just kept showing up. It would be one of the books that would be suggested, ala if you enjoyed this book, you will enjoy Britt-Marie Was Here on a lot of the book sites I regularly peruse. The libraries I use recommended the book. Blogs that I follow would suggest it as a book worth reading.

All right, all right, I will read it, I finally said, though the synopsis didn’t exactly grab me.

Britt-Marie is a 60-something woman who leaves her controlling husband after she learns he is having an affair. She is compulsive and entirely set in her ways. She has been since she was a little girl and her much-adored sister is killed in a car accident. It should have been you, is the message that Britt-Marie gets regularly from her mom, whether or not it is spoken out loud.

So Britt-Marie begins the process of starting a new life. The only job she is able to find is the manager of a recreation center in a very small town. She has spent most of her life taking care of others, and has no idea who Britt-Marie is and why anyone would care.

But she learns that people do care, and begins to put together a new life where people accept her for who she is. And who play soccer. You will have to read the book to find out why soccer is important to the story.

The author has written a couple of other books – the intriguingly titled My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry and A Man Called Ove. Much like Britt-Marie Was Here, they didn’t grab my attention. After reading this book, which might end up being one of my favorite novels ever, I will be reading his other books as well.

Britt-Marie Was Here was a breath of fresh air after reading some fairly dark novels lately. I seriously loved every word of this book, and want Britt-Marie to spend some time with me. The ending pleased me a great deal.

I highly recommend this book.

Here is a link to the book.

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Thursday Thoughts

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Do They Come in Different Colors?
Here is a conversation I overheard at Walmart last week:

Customer: I’m looking for a squeegee. Do you carry them?
Clerk: Yes we do. Do you want a big one or a small one?
Customer: I would like a big one.
Clerk: We only carry one size.

Wait, what?

The Skies’ the Limit
I recently got a $100 gift card for Amazon from my nephew and niece as their way of thanking me for something I crocheted for them. It was such a nice gesture because they had already paid me for the item as well. Scoooooooooooooooooore! Anyway, a $100 GIFT CARD FROM AMAZON. I am practically at a standstill because I simply don’t know how to spend my hundred bucks at Amazon. It’s not that I can’t come up with an idea. It’s Amazon; there is practically no end to what I can buy – or at least a hundred bucks worth of just about anything. I believe they outlawed the sale of body parts, but I don’t care because thus far my kidneys work fine. I’m trying to think of things that I have wanted but have told myself I couldn’t justify the purchase. I’m considering a new Wustof 8-inch chef’s knife. What would you buy?

Would You Like Fries With That?
Bill and I grabbed a quick lunch at Arby’s yesterday as we were doing some shopping. Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t expect Arby’s counter help to have graduated summa cum laude from Harvard. I do wish, however, that they had completed a basic math course and developed some simple customer service skills. Here was our order: One Arby’s Classic Meal, One BLT sandwich, one drink. It sounds simple, doesn’t it? I can’t begin to tell you how many times he had to ask us a question about our meal. He even needed to bring in help at one point. Bill was paying, so I went to sit down. After an unexpectedly long period of time, Bill came to the table with our order. As he sat down, he deadpanned, “I must say, he put the FUN in dysFUNctional.” Well said.

But It Keeps My Hair From Blowing
Every time I hear a flight attendant give the spiel about how our seat bottoms will serve as a life preserver in case of a water crash, I think of what Butch Cassidy said to the Sundance Kid in the movie when they are about to dive off a cliff into the river. Butch Cassidy says, “What’s the matter?” The Kid says, “I can’t swim.” Butch responds, “Are you crazy? The fall will probably kill you.” I’m pretty sure that my seat bottom isn’t going to save my life if the plane plummets into the Atlantic Ocean. But I also recall these lines when I put on my helmet prior to taking my scooter out for a ride. I can’t really envision a situation in which my scooter would fall over and I would hit my well-protected head. And I’m not sure my light-weight helmet will keep me protected in the case of a real emergency. Still, it’s better than nothing.

Casey’s at Bat
Addie called us somewhere in the neighborhood of 7 o’clock on Monday evening inviting us to come to her softball game. We were literally just sitting down to eat our dinner. Such a late dinnertime is unusual for us because I shoot for 6 o’clock or so, but life happened and we ran late. So we didn’t get to see her game. But Tuesday, when she came by to play with Kaiya, Mylee, and Cole, she told us that they won a really exciting game, in which she pitched a lot. And when she was up at bat, she had no strike-outs, a couple of runs and a couple of walks. Here she is getting ready for one of her pitches….

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I’m happy that my grandkids enjoy baseball and softball. Now if I could just get my head around the game.

Ciao.

Chameleons

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horseIn the early 1970s, Bill packed up his family and left the south side of Chicago – where he had lived his entire life, along with bad, bad Leroy Brown – and moved to the Wild, Wild West of Denver, Colorado. I’m pretty sure the engine of his station wagon wasn’t even cool before he went out and bought a pick-up truck, a horse, a trailer, and a pair of cowboy boots. It was Colorado, after all, and that’s how he rolls.

Quite frankly, my dad did the same thing when he moved to Leadville, Colorado, in 1974. While living almost an entire life in Columbus, Nebraska, doesn’t exactly qualify a person to be a city slicker, the reality was that though we lived in a farm community, we weren’t farmers. We didn’t raise crops. We didn’t feed cattle. Mom and Dad were business owners and town folk.

But when Dad bought the bakery in Colorado, the owner also offered to sell him a horse and a horse trailer.

Done.

So we were the proud (?) owners of Mike-the-Horse. None of us rode horses. In fact, horses made me fairly nervous (now that’s a shocker), though it didn’t make much difference since for the time the Gloor family owned a horse, I was still attending the University of Nebraska in Lincoln.

I’m pretty sure it was my brother’s responsibility to take care of the horse. Clearly, as the bakery was in the city limits of Leadville, Mike was stabled elsewhere. So my brother – who would have been maybe junior high age – had to somehow get to the stable, feed the horse, and probably give him a bit of exercise as well.

Mike didn’t live with the Gloors for long. I’m not sure what happened to him. I’m hoping he was sold to a nice horse-loving family and not to Purina. Let’s go with that.

For a period of time while still living in Columbus, Mom and Dad bought a cabin at Wagner’s Lake. I believe for the most part, Wagner’s Lake now is mostly the location of permanent residents, but back in the 60s, there were a lot of just rudimentary cabins. We owned one of them.

We actually spent a surprising amount of time at our cabin at Wagner’s Lake, though I have no recollection of ever sleeping there. Since Columbus was fairly small and you could drive anywhere in the town in less than 15 minutes, it likely made no sense to my mom to sleep at the cabin (which might be home to mice or other critters) when in 10 minutes she could be at home sleeping in her own comfortable bed. I’m with you all the way, Mom.

But, like Mike-the-horse in Leadville, this cabin either included or had thrown in at a bargain basement price a small motor boat. I don’t want you to even BEGIN envisioning a fancy boat with which you could water ski or even cruise around the lake drinking beer and eating sandwiches. It was a crappy-looking boat with a small engine that required Dad to pull on a starter rope – over and over again — to get the engine started. It was basically a floating lawn mower.

My cousin John tells a funny story about Dad inviting some of our relatives to the cabin to celebrate some holiday or other. Dad was apparently very excited to take some of the men out on “the boat.” John was envisioning the fancy boat, and it was a surprise that he saw what basically amounted to an aluminum can. When they all got on the boat, it would barely move because of the weight. I’m pretty sure the story includes getting hung up on a sand bar out in the middle of the lake. I’m SURE it includes beer.

The boat – like Mike-the-horse – didn’t last long. The cabin lasted until they moved to Colorado. We learned that a cabin can be fun if you simply suck up to the neighbors and use THEIR boat!

Given my dad’s and my husband’s stories, I guess you can take the man out of the testosterone but you can’t take the testosterone out of the man.

The Edge…..of Night

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Erica Kane: Oh, this isn’t my friend; this is my ex-husband.
Adam Chandler: One of many. I’m third from the end – at least, I think so; I haven’t seen Erica for a couple of days. – from All My Children

Jen called me a while back and told me this story: She had just gotten home from a trip and had unpacked all of her things. She set her prescription medications on her dresser and left the room. When she returned she noticed all of the pill bottles and said out loud, “My heavens, it looks like Valley of the Dolls.”

And the reason she called to tell me this story? Because she had no idea what Valley of the Dolls meant. She just knew our mom said it whenever talking about prescription meds. I explained Valley of the Dolls to her and we had a good laugh.

She went on to tell me that whenever there was drama going on in her or someone else’s life, Mom would say, “It’s like Peyton Place around here.” I also had to explain Peyton Place to Jen, being on the younger side of Baby Boomerism.

But the conversation got me to thinking about soap operas, something I haven’t watched in probably 35 or 40 years.  But I assure you I didn’t stop watching them because I’m an intelligent snob. Nope, far from it. I loved soap operas. I just got busy with my own life (which eventually became a soap opera of sorts in and of itself).

Come on, Baby Boomers. You remember them. You watched them. I know you did.

250px-SteveBetsyWedI have vivid memories of my mother watching her “soaps.”  She was loyal to the CBS soap operas – Love of Life, Search for Tomorrow, The Secret Storm, As the World Turns, The Edge of Night, and The Guiding Light. Wow. I can still picture some of the people on those programs. Nancy and Bob Hughes. Vanessa Dale (called Van). Bruce Sterling. Betsy Clark. Steve Andropaulos. And do you remember who played the adorable Betsy Clark? None other than Meg Ryan, who went on to become MEG RYAN. But she was so adorable in her character that I will never forget her in that role. And that wedding was one to behold.

As it happens, by the way, there are a surprising number of famous people who got their first break on soap operas — Demi Moore and Brad Pitt, to name a couple.

I don’t ever remember Mom sitting down and watching her soaps in the afternoon. As a working mother of four kids, she had way too much to do. She would have them on as she cleaned the house or vacuumed the carpet or ironed her clothes.

There was a point when Bec enjoyed watching soap operas. I’m not certain if she actually liked watching the sensational dramas as much as she liked having a common interest with Mom from whom she lived very far away in Alabama.

I remember that when Bec and Terry moved to Germany, Mom got her a subscription to Soap Opera Digest so that she could stay current with what was going on in Oakdale and all of the other little towns where so much happened every week. I’m pretty sure that despite Mom’s best efforts, not one issue of Soap Opera Digest ever made it to Bec’s home in Germany.

And let me just say that if you miss a few months of a soap opera, you can miss a lot. Heck, some of those people were married eight or nine times. All My Children’s infamous Erica Kane, played by Susan Lucci, was married something like 13 or 14 times. I think it depended on whether or not you counted the man to whom she was married twice as one or two marriages. Life is very confusing on soap operas.

Though I occasionally run across a soap opera as I’m looking for something to watch in the afternoon, I think for the most part they ran out of steam in the late 1970s to mid-1980s. Now they have been replaced by reality television. Housewives of Timbuktu.

But I still remember the deep-voiced narrator saying Stay tuned for The Edge……of Night.

Behaving Badly

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ParticipantParenting is such a difficult job that it is amazing that all of our kids – ALL OF THEM – don’t end up being ax murderers or regularly robbing liquor stores.

“The mother begins to destroy the child the moment it’s born,” wrote John B. Watson, who founded the behaviorist movement in the early 20th century. How would you like to have ol’ John be your father with an attitude like that? Among other beliefs, behaviorism theorizes that children should be shown no affection whatsoever in the form of kissing, hugging, or kind words. Watson believed that affection towards children was dangerous, and stated, “Most mothers should be indicted for psychological murder.” Happy Father’s Day. The man even wrote a then-popular parenting book entitled Psychological Care of Infant and Child. Thank goodness by time I was born, Psychological Care of Infant and Child had been replaced by the much kinder Baby and Child Care, by Dr. Benjamin Spock, the child-rearing bible upon which my mother depended.

I’m sure that I studied behaviorism in college in the general psychology classes I kept taking in the hopes that they would be an easy A. As it happens, I don’t think I got a grade above C in any of my psychology classes. I blame it on my mother.

I came across the behaviorist movement while considering reading a novel called Behave by Andromeda Romano-Lax. Behave is a novel about Dr. Watson, but even more about his mistress-turned-wife Rosalie Raynor Watson, who apparently supported his child-rearing beliefs and reared their children accordingly. I actually got the book from the library, and just couldn’t read it. It seemed too horrific a plot. I turned the book back to the library for the next poor Dr. Spock-reared Baby Boomer to read.

Child-rearing notions change constantly, of course. I came across an article that purported that our dependence on saying to our children (and grandchildren) good job is going to make them blithering idiots who are (or will be) completely unable to be self-actualized or to come up with any ideas for themselves. They will spend the rest of their lives drooling and looking for positive reinforcement from others.

Not being a psychologist or a sociologist, but just a low-life journalist/writer, I can’t say what child-rearing theories work and which don’t. But I can say that I am witnessing a generation of young adults who have 20 or 30 Participant ribbons on their walls and who are satisfied with that because they all did a good job. I’m frankly in favor of rewarding 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place winners, but nobody is asking me.

I had the misfortune of having to make a trip to the emergency room last week (though thankfully I avoided a hospital visit). Stomach issues led me to believe that I was once again having one of my oh-too-regular bowel obstructions. As it happens, I was, but it was only a partial obstruction and resolved itself, thereby negating the need for either the dreaded nasal-gastric tube or a hospital admission.

But the reason I’m mentioning this fact is that I was being looked at by a young physician’s assistant, who simply couldn’t have been nicer. Unfortunately, her inability to make a decision led me to believe that she had been told good job a bit too often when, in fact, her job had only been so-so.

Here’s what the oh-so-nice young woman said to me: We will need to determine whether or not you have a bowel obstruction. That means you will have to have a CT scan. Of course, we could also find out by doing an X-ray. Which do you think we should do?

Nope. I can correct your spelling. I can explain dangling participles to you. Ask me the difference between principal and principle.

I DO NOT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT MEDICINE, AND THEREFORE DO NOT WANT TO MAKE THE DECISION ON WHETHER OR NOT I SHOULD HAVE AN X-RAY OR A CT SCAN. THAT’S ON YOU.

She finally called my GI doctor at home and he made the decision that the situation warranted a CT Scan, without asking me.

Good job, Doc.

Saturday Smile: Dad, I Just Found Another LaBron

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I took Kaiya and Mylee to see Finding Dory yesterday, and it was so, so good. I can’t recommend it enough. I wanted to make sure we had a good seat, so I upgraded to the VIP seats, which included wait service. So we had our server bring us soda and Mylee had Twizzlers, brought to her on a tray. La dee da.

They came for dinner last night, and after we ate, we went to sit outside. The kids all went to the sandbox/playhouse area and commenced digging for gold. They found rock after rock after rock, all of which they were convinced were some kind of valuable gemstone. Because Daddy knows everything, they would bring each rock to Court and ask him what kind of rock it was.

He started naming them. He, of course, had no idea what kind of rocks they were, but that didn’t stop him. He started out with names of basketball players. There was the LaBron, and the Barkley. He moved on to 60s rock stars. You had the Lennon and the Morrison and the Hendrix. After running out of 60s rock star names, he moved on to television. There was the Benes and the Kramer and the Costanza. And so forth….

We were laughing so hard, because the kids believed every word he said, with not even the slightest doubt. Kaiya told him, “Daddy, you really know your rocks.”

My fear is that they will get into their high school geology class and when the teacher says a particular rock is granite, they will argue with him/her and say, “No, that is definitely a LaBron.”

kaiya mylee play doh

Have a great weekend.

Friday Book Whimsy: Miss Julia Inherits a Mess

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imgresAuthor Ann B. Ross has written a total of 18 Miss Julia novels, as well as a short story, and I have read most of them, though not all. Her latest – Miss Julia Inherits a Mess – was as delightful as the others that I have read.

Miss Julia Springer is 70-something year old woman, once married to Lloyd Springer, a not very nice man. In the first novel – Miss Julia Speaks Her Mind – her husband has just died, leaving her a very rich woman. Miss Julia soon learns that Lloyd had a mistress and a child. Rather than the more predictable reaction of anger, Miss Julia takes Hazel Marie and her son, Little Lloyd, into her home. Thus begins a series of adventures starring the unpredictable and loveable Miss Julia and her friends and neighbors in the small North Carolina town in which she lives.

The Miss Julia series is not Pulitzer-Prize winning literature. The books are, however, a refreshing break from the serious and dark novels I often find myself reading. There is always a bit of a mystery, or at least some sort of obstacle that must be overcome. As with many of these small Southern town novels, there are a series of quirky and likable characters that come in and out of the stories.

In Miss Julia Inherits a Mess, the septuagenarian learns that an elderly acquaintance has died, and, of all things, has named her the executrix of her estate. Miss Julia’s lawyer-husband Sam is away on a fishing trip and can be of little help. Predictably, Miss Julia runs into problems, including a mysterious alleged nephew who is claiming her estate. The problem is that it appears that Mattie Freeman’s estate amounts to almost nothing. Or does it?

These books aren’t really about the plot, of course, but about the relationships and the people Miss Julia impacts daily. The books are fun and light and can almost be read in one sitting.

Spend an afternoon with Miss Julia and her friends, and you’ll end up with a smile on your face.

Here is a link to the book.

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Thursday Thoughts

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Hallmark Holidays
I have mixed feelings about both Mothers’ Day and Fathers’ Day. I, of course, am so happy to be a mother, but I must admit that each Mothers’ Day when the priest at Mass asks mothers to stand for a blessing, I get a bit sad for the women who don’t stand who wish they could be (or could have been) mothers. Perhaps they should just give the blessing without having us stand. Having said all of that, we had a wonderful Fathers’ Day spent with two of the three people who call Bill Dad. The third lives in Vermont, and would undoubtedly have been there if she were a millionaire and could afford to fly to Denver at a whim. He got a much-desired baseball glove and a card signed by his grandkids. Later on in the day, Court, Kaiya and Mylee Facetimed him to wish him a happy Fathers’ Day. All-in-all, a good day…..

Bill, McLains card

 

Fathers Day 2016 (2)

Fresh Paint
I’ve written on this blog that we have gone more than 23 years without painting much of our house. This summer we are determined to paint all of the rooms that are so desperately in need of sprucing up. So this past weekend, I picked out my color, and Bill and I painted the room which I use as my office…..

Bill painting

I actually did some of the painting too, though Bill admittedly did the bulk of the work, as usual. But I did some of the rolling, which took a lot more strength than I had anticipated. For the most part, my life is not challenged by the arthritis I have in my hands and wrists, but I will admit that it impacted my ability to paint a whole bunch. I love the way it turned out. Next, our guest room.

Scooting
I won’t lie. One of the best things about summer for me is that I can ride my scooter. It’s one of the first things I ask Bill to do when we get back to Denver and the temperatures are warming up – get my scooter started. He’s got it down to a science these days. He charges up the battery, and then has some kind of spray something-or-other that results in the scooter starting after only a few attempts. I used to drive my scooter all the way to my office downtown, but now I mostly scoot around the neighborhood. I almost always take it to the grocery store. The box on back fits more than you would think, but I must admit I occasionally have the need to put something between my feet. Once I had a case of Corona between my feet on the scooter. Luckily, I don’t have far to drive. I’m pretty sure the police wouldn’t have been thrilled for all sorts of reasons.

Kris scooter 2016

 Camping
All four of Dave’s and Jll’s kids are up at camp this week. It’s pretty quiet around the neighborhood, and exceptionally quiet at their house. Alastair has been gone since school got out. He literally got on a plane the afternoon of his last school day and flew to Montana, where he went RV camping with his Aunt Julie for a week. He got home, slept in his bed one night, and then left for Boy Scout camp. He got home from that, spent another night in his own bed, and left for this camp on the afternoon of Fathers’ Day. I asked him that morning how he felt about leaving again and spending another week sleeping in a tent. “I love it,” he said. That made me happy, but I will tell you that I would have missed my mommy when I was little. Golly, I was such a mommy’s girl.

Ciao.

Reluctant Traveler Guest Post: 3:10 to Yuma

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By Rebecca Borman

yuma 1Every time I told someone I was going with a group to spend a few days in Yuma, I got a negative response:  an eye roll, a laugh, or “Why?”  Conventional wisdom is that there’s not much to see or do in this small city on the Mexican border, despite the fact that it claims to be “The RV Capital of the World.”  I had been assured by the group’s organizer, however, that such was not the case.

Let me say first that there is—truly—nothing but desert between Chandler, where I live, and Yuma.  Fill up your car with gas, because there aren’t many opportunities to stop along the way. But, once in Yuma, there were a surprising number of interesting places to visit…and we did.

Our first stop was at the Garden Café, in the small downtown section of the city.  After lunch, we only needed to walk next door to our first attraction, the Sanguinetti House and Gardens.  It’s a museum and event venue today, but it was originally the home of E.F. Sanguinetti, who came to Yuma at the age of 15 and is now considered one of the founders of the community as it is today.  His story was interesting, and the house and especially the gardens were lovely to see.

For dinner we were on our own, so a couple of us decided we wanted to go to Lutes Casino.  It’s a restaurant, not a casino, and we never did find out why it has that name.  But, we did find out it is an interesting place to see and to have a meal.  One of their specialties is a potato taco, which is a potato-filled corn tortilla, rolled and deep fried with shredded cabbage, tomato, mayo and Cotija cheese. I wouldn’t want it as a steady diet, but I’m glad I tried it.  Besides, I was so distracted by the ambiance of Lutes that I hardly knew what I was eating!

yuma 4The next day was our only full day in Yuma, so it was filled with activities.  Our first stop was the Yuma Territorial Prison.  I think most people have heard about the prison, which was an important place in the late 19th Century, when it was built.  A total of 3,069 prisoners, including 29 women, lived within its walls during the prison’s thirty-three years of operation. Their crimes ranged from murder to polygamy.  Our docent was excellent and gave us a real feel for the history of the place.  He emphasized that the prison was a model institution and was administered very humanely.  I wonder if the prisoners felt the same way!  His enthusiastic interpretation of the prison’s story captured us, and we all enjoyed our time there.

Our next stop was the Cocopah Tribal Museum.  I will admit there was some grumbling as we caravanned our way out there; it was a long way over a very dusty road.  We had been assured that, in addition to a tour of the museum, we were also going to be treated to some fry bread.  (In case you haven’t noticed, eating is an important activity with this group.)  The museum was wonderful, quite small but well curated, and we all learned a lot from the exhibits and our informative guide.

Once our indoor tour was over, we were escorted to an area outside, where a small yuma 2fire was burning and tables were set up for us.  Ahhhh, time for fry bread.  But, we were surprised to learn that we would be making our own treat!  What?  I don’t know how to make fry bread!  I don’t really know what fry bread is!  No worries, they had done this before.  Each of us was given our own small bowl, and our hosts brought around flour, shortening, sugar, salt to put in our bowls.   We mixed with our fingers, kneaded it a bit, stretched it into awkward shapes, and then into the hot oil it went.  What emerged didn’t look great but it tasted so good.  We were proud and happy as we sprinkled our bread with powdered sugar and cinnamon.  It was definitely one of the best parts of the trip.

yuma 3

Our last activity of the day was a stop at the Quartermaster Depot.  Again, there’s lots of interesting Arizona history involved with this army post that, as the name suggests, was the storage facility for everything that came into the territory for all the military installations in the vast area of Arizona.  By the end of our tour there, we were all hot and worn out.  It was time to go back to the hotel.

That evening we were taken on a culinary tour of Yuma.  We stopped at three different restaurants as a sort of progressive dinner.  The last course was at a beautiful country club, where we ate outdoors and watched a gorgeous full moon rise.  Yuma is trying to make a name for itself as a culinary destination and we were happy to experience what it has to offer in that regard.

Our last activity was the following morning, before we all headed back home.  A group of us went on a bird walk at the Eastern Wetlands.  A local member of the Audubon society was our guide, and we saw some lovely scenery and interesting birds.  It was a nice end to a lovely trip.  Meanwhile, one member of our group did what many, many folks do when they visit Yuma.  She took a trip across the border to take advantage of the much discounted prescription drugs.  She reported that the prices were good, and the pharmacy was modern and impeccably clean.  She took a peek into a couple of dental and vision facilities, too, and said they were equally welcoming.  I guess that’s one reason so many seniors spend their winters in RVs in Yuma.

So, while I don’t need to go to Yuma every year, I enjoyed the trip and highly recommend a visit.  It’s another piece of Arizona history that’s worth studying.