Today I'm thankful that the check-in person in security at Miami International Airport is a joyous black woman who calls everyone "sweetie', "honey" and "baby". She says "That's YOUR birthday? You lookin' GOOD!" when she checks the I.D. of an elderly gentleman, and "That's what I'M talkin' about!" when she checks out an impossibly luscious young Latina. Only the most cynical can keep from smiling... and we all forget, just for a moment, that we're snaking through a security line at a snail's pace, heading for a pat-down.
Possibly this makes us remember that zooming across the country in a plane is a miracle and a privilege, not a hassle. And that we should respect our fellow humans, not suspect them. And that we should meet every day with gratitude - not just one autumnal Thursday per year.
I read a recent review of Armistead Maupin's latest book, where I found this quote:
“It all goes so fast,” Mary Ann thinks. “We dole out our lives in dinner parties and plane flights, and it’s over before we know it. We lose everyone we love, if they don’t lose us first, and every single thing we do is intended to distract us from that reality.”
Yes - that's reality. So we give thanks for every one of our wonderful crowd of family and friends, and for every experience that comes our way. We love you - pass it on.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
My Schizophrenic Life
So we went through a year and a half of being either "homeless and jobless" (my husband's version) or "nomadic and free" (my version), depending on who you ask. In May, we settled in Bisbee (no longer homeless) and in October, I was awarded a consulting contract with my former employer in Florida (no longer jobless). Yay - money in the bank! Yay - I get to work with people I really like!
This very positive development has me feeling a bit schizophrenic, though. No two places in the world could be more opposite than Bisbee, Arizona and Boca Raton, Florida. Dick has always called Bisbee "the anti-Boca"... and now I am splitting my life between the two.
One day I'm listening to tropical birds and enjoying the lush blanket of hot humid air at sea level - the next day I'm in the high and dry desert, feeling an autumnal nip in the air.
One day I'm sitting in a board room reviewing multi-million dollar budgets, the next day I'm at the Bisbee Woman's Club, where we have to vote on whether it's more cost-effective to let the power company pay us $30 for the Club's used refrigerator or try to sell it on craigslist.
One day I'm debating the virtues of various creative agencies for our 2011 TV spot, the next I'm reviewing the steps to take to get the USTA to give us a grant to re-surface the Vista Park tennis courts.
One day I'm forced to eat airport food and room service, the next day I'm perusing the fresh goat cheese (directly from our favorite goat, Bambi) at the Bisbee Farmer's Market.
One day I'm idling my rental car among Ferraris and Lamborghinis as palm trees wave in the scented breeze, the next I'm feeling very small in my Mini Cooper amongst the 4x4s and giant pickup trucks on the rutted, dusty roads of Cochise County.
What to do? For the moment, just sit back and enjoy the ride...
This very positive development has me feeling a bit schizophrenic, though. No two places in the world could be more opposite than Bisbee, Arizona and Boca Raton, Florida. Dick has always called Bisbee "the anti-Boca"... and now I am splitting my life between the two.
One day I'm listening to tropical birds and enjoying the lush blanket of hot humid air at sea level - the next day I'm in the high and dry desert, feeling an autumnal nip in the air.
One day I'm sitting in a board room reviewing multi-million dollar budgets, the next day I'm at the Bisbee Woman's Club, where we have to vote on whether it's more cost-effective to let the power company pay us $30 for the Club's used refrigerator or try to sell it on craigslist.
One day I'm debating the virtues of various creative agencies for our 2011 TV spot, the next I'm reviewing the steps to take to get the USTA to give us a grant to re-surface the Vista Park tennis courts.
One day I'm forced to eat airport food and room service, the next day I'm perusing the fresh goat cheese (directly from our favorite goat, Bambi) at the Bisbee Farmer's Market.
One day I'm idling my rental car among Ferraris and Lamborghinis as palm trees wave in the scented breeze, the next I'm feeling very small in my Mini Cooper amongst the 4x4s and giant pickup trucks on the rutted, dusty roads of Cochise County.
What to do? For the moment, just sit back and enjoy the ride...
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Trial By Fire
Okay, I'm getting a bit dramatic here, but it was a dramatic event! We attended the Pit Fire Festival out at Cochise College on Wednesday night with our friends Jeff and Liz. As usual for Bisbee, the crowd was an interesting mix of cowboy hats and body piercings... the ceramics department from the college built a huge (I mean football field huge)bonfire of pallettes over their ceramics, and then the object of the evening was to set this monster on fire, to fire their pots and provide a spectacular blazing headache for the Bisbee Fire Department.
There was a silent auction of some remarkable ceramic works - I bought a piece of Mata Ortiz pottery from Mexico - and the culinary arts students fed the entire crowd with free food! As you can imagine, there was quite a line, and we feasted on truly delicious chili, clam and shrimp chowder, sandwiches, fruit veggies and out of this galaxy delicious chocolate mint cookies. There was a festive show with local bands and ethnic dances - then as the sun was setting, the college rodeo team galloped around the fire pit bearing the American and Arizona flags - an enormous cloud of dust turning pink and purple in the sunset as they tore down the field... goose bumps, for sure.
Before they started the fire, a pyrotechnic dance troop did an amazing fire dance featuring scantily clad girls and giant devil dogs on stilts, all juggling fire batons to feverish drumming... and then - at the signal -pit fire was set alight with a whoosh - the sparks flew in the air, the wood crackled and the whole world took on an orange glow, under the midnight blue, cloud streaked sky... a full moon looked like the glowing end of a cosmic cigarette, dropping sparks and ashes all around.
Imagine what this looked like the following morning... billowing clouds of taupe colored ash on the ground, colorful pots sticking out of the ash like newly sprouted plants. The whole evening was either an amazing tribal ritual, or proof that people will go to great lengths to entertain themselves in a small town. I prefer to think the former.
There was a silent auction of some remarkable ceramic works - I bought a piece of Mata Ortiz pottery from Mexico - and the culinary arts students fed the entire crowd with free food! As you can imagine, there was quite a line, and we feasted on truly delicious chili, clam and shrimp chowder, sandwiches, fruit veggies and out of this galaxy delicious chocolate mint cookies. There was a festive show with local bands and ethnic dances - then as the sun was setting, the college rodeo team galloped around the fire pit bearing the American and Arizona flags - an enormous cloud of dust turning pink and purple in the sunset as they tore down the field... goose bumps, for sure.
Before they started the fire, a pyrotechnic dance troop did an amazing fire dance featuring scantily clad girls and giant devil dogs on stilts, all juggling fire batons to feverish drumming... and then - at the signal -pit fire was set alight with a whoosh - the sparks flew in the air, the wood crackled and the whole world took on an orange glow, under the midnight blue, cloud streaked sky... a full moon looked like the glowing end of a cosmic cigarette, dropping sparks and ashes all around.
Imagine what this looked like the following morning... billowing clouds of taupe colored ash on the ground, colorful pots sticking out of the ash like newly sprouted plants. The whole evening was either an amazing tribal ritual, or proof that people will go to great lengths to entertain themselves in a small town. I prefer to think the former.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Torture by Mariachi
Oh, it's been a long, long three weeks since I last posted. Our landlords are having the house painted, which originally brought a comment of, "Oh, how cool!" from us. Three weeks, hundreds of hours of droning compressors, grinding sanders and blaring mariachi music later, not so great. I would recommend to anyone who's having a house re-painted on the outside to put drop cloths over all your furniture, bring everything that needs to remain in one piece inside your house (plants, animals, outdoor furniture) and go away for several weeks. When you return, it will all be shiny and new, and you'll never know the hell that occurred while you were away... definitely not conducive to blogging, or any other kind of writing, for that matter. Unfortunately, I write for a living, which is a problem...
In an attempt to turn "lemons into lemonade", we went away last week, thinking the painting would be over when we returned... alas, this was not the case, but we are having a quiet Saturday, so here I am! The trip took us first to Phoenix, where I interviewed for some project work at The Global Institute of Sustainability (GIOS) at ASU, which is headed, happily for me, by my old friend Rob Melnick. He and I had a delightful lunch in the lovely shaded patio of House of Tricks (great name!)with his communication director, Karen Leland, who is also lovely, though not shaded.
Then I spent the weekend getting very revved up at the USTA's Community Tennis Development Workshop in Scottsdale. I'm determined to get some kids out on these public courts of ours, and I went to Scottsdale to learn how other people do it. The byword these days at USTA is Under Ten Tennis - with a format called "QuickStart", which is tennis for kids with smaller racquets, a large foam ball, and a small court. We learned fun games that teach skills to children without boring and pressure-filled drills - we can't wait to get started on this... stay tuned! Had plenty of fun with the adults at the conference, too - serious tennis players are generally very geeky and nice.
Sunday evening was the surprise 65th birthday of our old friend Marc Cavness, and his daughters were kind enough to invite us when they found out from my wonderful pal Linda Stuckey that we'd be in town. Marc and his wife, as well as most of the attendees, are from families who have been in Arizona for several generations, and it might surprise you to learn that they are all pretty liberal folk. Marc, who's a lawyer, had created thousands of campaign-style buttons that say "I could be illegal", which we all wore in his honor at the party. And I brought home lots of them to share with my radical Bisbonian buddies. Marc was genuinely surprised and touched by the crowd, many of whom had flown in from a distance... so good to connect with old friends.
Next it was on to Cottonwood, where Jim and Sara were housesitting for their daughter, Penny. We had the perfect 48 hours in the Red Rock Country - a hike up Mingus Mountain the first day, leafy and beautiful, which ended with a sunset view dinner at the Haunted Hamburger in wacky old Jerome - another copper mining town that's been revived by artists and tourists. The next day a visit to the ruins of the pueblos of the Sinagua people, who built their homes into a mountain cavern that allowed warm sun in winter, shade in summer... ingenious architecture; on to Boynton Canyon, where we hiked with the multitudes and admired the brilliant colors of Sedona's red rocks - which display more than just red: orange, purple, blue, grey, turquoise, and umber against green trees and blue sky.
Now we're back in the construction zone - but today is the Bisbee 1000 Stair Climb, a 5K race that was written up in the Wall Street Journal as one of the country's best. We're not running - in fact, we're not even walking - but we're sure to have some fun!
In an attempt to turn "lemons into lemonade", we went away last week, thinking the painting would be over when we returned... alas, this was not the case, but we are having a quiet Saturday, so here I am! The trip took us first to Phoenix, where I interviewed for some project work at The Global Institute of Sustainability (GIOS) at ASU, which is headed, happily for me, by my old friend Rob Melnick. He and I had a delightful lunch in the lovely shaded patio of House of Tricks (great name!)with his communication director, Karen Leland, who is also lovely, though not shaded.
Then I spent the weekend getting very revved up at the USTA's Community Tennis Development Workshop in Scottsdale. I'm determined to get some kids out on these public courts of ours, and I went to Scottsdale to learn how other people do it. The byword these days at USTA is Under Ten Tennis - with a format called "QuickStart", which is tennis for kids with smaller racquets, a large foam ball, and a small court. We learned fun games that teach skills to children without boring and pressure-filled drills - we can't wait to get started on this... stay tuned! Had plenty of fun with the adults at the conference, too - serious tennis players are generally very geeky and nice.
Sunday evening was the surprise 65th birthday of our old friend Marc Cavness, and his daughters were kind enough to invite us when they found out from my wonderful pal Linda Stuckey that we'd be in town. Marc and his wife, as well as most of the attendees, are from families who have been in Arizona for several generations, and it might surprise you to learn that they are all pretty liberal folk. Marc, who's a lawyer, had created thousands of campaign-style buttons that say "I could be illegal", which we all wore in his honor at the party. And I brought home lots of them to share with my radical Bisbonian buddies. Marc was genuinely surprised and touched by the crowd, many of whom had flown in from a distance... so good to connect with old friends.
Next it was on to Cottonwood, where Jim and Sara were housesitting for their daughter, Penny. We had the perfect 48 hours in the Red Rock Country - a hike up Mingus Mountain the first day, leafy and beautiful, which ended with a sunset view dinner at the Haunted Hamburger in wacky old Jerome - another copper mining town that's been revived by artists and tourists. The next day a visit to the ruins of the pueblos of the Sinagua people, who built their homes into a mountain cavern that allowed warm sun in winter, shade in summer... ingenious architecture; on to Boynton Canyon, where we hiked with the multitudes and admired the brilliant colors of Sedona's red rocks - which display more than just red: orange, purple, blue, grey, turquoise, and umber against green trees and blue sky.
Now we're back in the construction zone - but today is the Bisbee 1000 Stair Climb, a 5K race that was written up in the Wall Street Journal as one of the country's best. We're not running - in fact, we're not even walking - but we're sure to have some fun!
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues...
Blue is my favorite color, The Blues are my favorite tunes...and this past weekend we heard remarkable Blues under amazing blue skies... with temperatures cooler than the Bay Area. What can I say? Perfection cannot be improved upon.
Joined by Jim and Sara, their visiting grandson Zach and our visiting friend Melanie, we put up our tent about 10:30 AM and just let 'er rip! The Festival was held at Warren Ball Park - the oldest operating baseball stadium in the U.S. We sat just below the scoreboard, which still held the scores of the last Copper Kings game of summer. Local bands The Hounds and Train Wreck both did memorable sets - it's astounding how much talent there is in this little town. We even went up to the stage to shake our tail feathers, though there are few more feathers back there than we remembered from back in the day. Zach has to be the coolest 16-year-old on earth, too, because he wasn't even embarrassed by our antics, er, dancing. Plus he's a Beatles scholar, so how cool is that?
The serious visiting Blues stars came on after lunch, and lunch was a highlight for us. Nathan's hot dogs, Navajo fry bread, grilled corn, chiles rellenos, Kick Ass BBQ, and buffalo burgers were among the fare offered - but best of all, they were serving Stella Artois and some very nice wine... not that we noticed. Next thing I knew we were visiting my friend Vanessa's clothing booth and trying not to purchase that little off-the-shoulder number - escaped just in the nick.
The first post-prandial delight was The Rhythm Room All-Stars, playing Chicago Blues, which really got the crowd on their feet. And speaking of crowds, there were 3,000 people in attendance - this in a town of fewer than 5,000 people. I'm thinking we had lots of tourists in from Tucson, Phoenix, New Mexico, and parts unknown, which is definitely good for the local economy. And judging by the contents of the motorcycle parking area, every Harley club in the greater Southwest made an appearance. Even I, a committed motorcycle-phobic, was impressed by that shining horde of macho wheels... and the fact that the riders were all well-behaved once they got inside. A couple of them stumbled on our tent-pegs and fell over, but they picked themselves up and apologized as nice as can be, never using the F word - impressive.
The grand finale came with the two big name, world class acts - Shemekia Copeland (Shemekia: "How you ladies feel about me bein' the only girl singin' up here today???" Crowd: "Booooo")and Tab Benoit (Tab: "This is the first time I've been here, but I'll be back - I love you, Bisbee!" Crowd: "Yaaaaay"). More dancing, more drinking... then on to Cafe Roka, Bisbee's only fine dining restaurant, for a very excellent meal - the proverbial perfect ending to a perfect day.
The sounds of The Blues have stayed with me all week. That insistent, sexy, rolling rhythm, those mellow black voices... my writing teacher even apologized for stopping me at the Festival and telling me I was dancing slutty. He claimed he was just teasing, but for me it was no problem at all - at 62, I consider that a compliment!
Joined by Jim and Sara, their visiting grandson Zach and our visiting friend Melanie, we put up our tent about 10:30 AM and just let 'er rip! The Festival was held at Warren Ball Park - the oldest operating baseball stadium in the U.S. We sat just below the scoreboard, which still held the scores of the last Copper Kings game of summer. Local bands The Hounds and Train Wreck both did memorable sets - it's astounding how much talent there is in this little town. We even went up to the stage to shake our tail feathers, though there are few more feathers back there than we remembered from back in the day. Zach has to be the coolest 16-year-old on earth, too, because he wasn't even embarrassed by our antics, er, dancing. Plus he's a Beatles scholar, so how cool is that?
The serious visiting Blues stars came on after lunch, and lunch was a highlight for us. Nathan's hot dogs, Navajo fry bread, grilled corn, chiles rellenos, Kick Ass BBQ, and buffalo burgers were among the fare offered - but best of all, they were serving Stella Artois and some very nice wine... not that we noticed. Next thing I knew we were visiting my friend Vanessa's clothing booth and trying not to purchase that little off-the-shoulder number - escaped just in the nick.
The first post-prandial delight was The Rhythm Room All-Stars, playing Chicago Blues, which really got the crowd on their feet. And speaking of crowds, there were 3,000 people in attendance - this in a town of fewer than 5,000 people. I'm thinking we had lots of tourists in from Tucson, Phoenix, New Mexico, and parts unknown, which is definitely good for the local economy. And judging by the contents of the motorcycle parking area, every Harley club in the greater Southwest made an appearance. Even I, a committed motorcycle-phobic, was impressed by that shining horde of macho wheels... and the fact that the riders were all well-behaved once they got inside. A couple of them stumbled on our tent-pegs and fell over, but they picked themselves up and apologized as nice as can be, never using the F word - impressive.
The grand finale came with the two big name, world class acts - Shemekia Copeland (Shemekia: "How you ladies feel about me bein' the only girl singin' up here today???" Crowd: "Booooo")and Tab Benoit (Tab: "This is the first time I've been here, but I'll be back - I love you, Bisbee!" Crowd: "Yaaaaay"). More dancing, more drinking... then on to Cafe Roka, Bisbee's only fine dining restaurant, for a very excellent meal - the proverbial perfect ending to a perfect day.
The sounds of The Blues have stayed with me all week. That insistent, sexy, rolling rhythm, those mellow black voices... my writing teacher even apologized for stopping me at the Festival and telling me I was dancing slutty. He claimed he was just teasing, but for me it was no problem at all - at 62, I consider that a compliment!
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Birthday Travels
As noted in the previous post, I was a little unsure about our birthday travels, but all hard feelings dissipated as we pulled into the parking lot of Si Senor restaurant in Deming, New Mexico, where we always stop to stuff ourselves with fresh home-cooked Mexican food. Tender fresh-roasted chicken, light as a feather flour tortillas just off the grill, locally grown chiles and homemade salsa... it bears no resemblance to the greasy corporate hack food served in the widely known Mexican chains(which shall remain nameless - they know who they are).
Arrived at Jerri's charming 1840's adobe in Santa Fe's East Side neighborhood, just a block from Canyon Road, at about 5:00, and that's when they party really began! Good food, good wine and good talk, and excellent companionship from Margie, as usual - and then a night of dancing at El Farol, Santa Fe's oldest restaurant, which is now a tapas restaurant with a lively bar scene and live music. Tuesday night is "open mike" night, so it's essentially free to dance to some of the best old time rock'n roll ever. Lots of retired rockers in Santa Fe, who come to El Farol for a little Tuesday jam - lucky us! On this particular night, Ron Ellison, formerly of the Delfonics, was there, and we danced the night away to "Just My 'Magination" and "Papa Was a Rollin' Stone" packed tight against artists, native Americans, gold diggers and other Santa Feans.
The next morning, a drive on Highway 84 to Durango, through what must surely be the world's most beautiful scenery. I've driven the Amalfi Coast, the roads around Capetown, seen meadows of lupine stretching on forever in the mountains of New Zealand's South Island... but this road equals it all. First Abiquiu and Ghost Ranch, with the otherworldly pink and green Georgia O'Keefe rock formations ("Haven't I seen this before?" you ask yourself, and then realize that you own an O'Keefe print of this very spot). Then you climb upward toward the bright blue sky, with the flat-bottom New Mexico clouds puffing along, aspens turning gold but wildflowers still blooming pink, purple and yellow in the fields.
Before you know it, you're in Pagosa Springs, one of America's great small towns, and a few miles on to Ben and Birgitta's ranch, where they live with five horses, three dogs, two cats and a fascinating 15-year-old genius son named Sam. Chess games, conversation on endlessly diverse topics, a brisket to die for, mind-blowingly beautiful hikes, and child-like sleep through the chilly mountain nights, tucked snugly under the downy comforter.
But the greatest thing about staying at Rancho Kater is the communion with animals. My fantasy as a child was to live on a ranch with horses and dogs, and I get to live this fantasy whenever we visit. Birgitta has endless patience and calm, which is helpful with animals and even moreso with greenhorns like me, and the two of us took an exciting ride over the steep ups and downs of the nearby mountains. My friend Bilbo took excellent care of me, as he promised he would - did everything I asked and more. We gave the horses a nice hose-down and curry after the ride because they had worked so hard and were so sweaty, so of course they immediately flopped down on their backs and rolled around in the dirt - apparently that's much better than a bath!
Back to Santa Fe on Saturday, the countryside even more spectacular after two days of fall-like weather. Did some gallery-hopping and spent a wonderful birthday dinner with Jerri, who was having her big 6-0 last week. I learned that Santa Fe is the second-largest art market in the U.S. (after NYC) and could see why - although my favorite gallery was the Community Gallery where local folk showed art made from recycled materials - so creative and surprising.
On the way home to BZB, we went through Hatch, New Mexico, and had a World Famous Green Chile Cheeseburger at Sparky's - if you're ever in Hatch, don't miss it! The local green chile harvest was just in, and a lovely man roasted ten pounds of the spicy little devils for us to take back with us - my car smelled amazing, and still does, a little. We cleaned and bagged them when we got home, and Dick, who had looked askance at me when I told the gentleman that we wanted "medium", ate a whole roasted chile, seeds and all, then had to race to the kitchen for water, milk, sour cream, etc. to put out the fire. He has accused me (joking, I hope) of using this blog just to humiliate him, which I wouldn't do, did he not give me so many opportunities...
Now we're busy making chiles rellenos, green chile omelettes, green chile salsa, green chile soup, even a jalapeno apple pie, so must get cookin'!
Arrived at Jerri's charming 1840's adobe in Santa Fe's East Side neighborhood, just a block from Canyon Road, at about 5:00, and that's when they party really began! Good food, good wine and good talk, and excellent companionship from Margie, as usual - and then a night of dancing at El Farol, Santa Fe's oldest restaurant, which is now a tapas restaurant with a lively bar scene and live music. Tuesday night is "open mike" night, so it's essentially free to dance to some of the best old time rock'n roll ever. Lots of retired rockers in Santa Fe, who come to El Farol for a little Tuesday jam - lucky us! On this particular night, Ron Ellison, formerly of the Delfonics, was there, and we danced the night away to "Just My 'Magination" and "Papa Was a Rollin' Stone" packed tight against artists, native Americans, gold diggers and other Santa Feans.
The next morning, a drive on Highway 84 to Durango, through what must surely be the world's most beautiful scenery. I've driven the Amalfi Coast, the roads around Capetown, seen meadows of lupine stretching on forever in the mountains of New Zealand's South Island... but this road equals it all. First Abiquiu and Ghost Ranch, with the otherworldly pink and green Georgia O'Keefe rock formations ("Haven't I seen this before?" you ask yourself, and then realize that you own an O'Keefe print of this very spot). Then you climb upward toward the bright blue sky, with the flat-bottom New Mexico clouds puffing along, aspens turning gold but wildflowers still blooming pink, purple and yellow in the fields.
Before you know it, you're in Pagosa Springs, one of America's great small towns, and a few miles on to Ben and Birgitta's ranch, where they live with five horses, three dogs, two cats and a fascinating 15-year-old genius son named Sam. Chess games, conversation on endlessly diverse topics, a brisket to die for, mind-blowingly beautiful hikes, and child-like sleep through the chilly mountain nights, tucked snugly under the downy comforter.
But the greatest thing about staying at Rancho Kater is the communion with animals. My fantasy as a child was to live on a ranch with horses and dogs, and I get to live this fantasy whenever we visit. Birgitta has endless patience and calm, which is helpful with animals and even moreso with greenhorns like me, and the two of us took an exciting ride over the steep ups and downs of the nearby mountains. My friend Bilbo took excellent care of me, as he promised he would - did everything I asked and more. We gave the horses a nice hose-down and curry after the ride because they had worked so hard and were so sweaty, so of course they immediately flopped down on their backs and rolled around in the dirt - apparently that's much better than a bath!
Back to Santa Fe on Saturday, the countryside even more spectacular after two days of fall-like weather. Did some gallery-hopping and spent a wonderful birthday dinner with Jerri, who was having her big 6-0 last week. I learned that Santa Fe is the second-largest art market in the U.S. (after NYC) and could see why - although my favorite gallery was the Community Gallery where local folk showed art made from recycled materials - so creative and surprising.
On the way home to BZB, we went through Hatch, New Mexico, and had a World Famous Green Chile Cheeseburger at Sparky's - if you're ever in Hatch, don't miss it! The local green chile harvest was just in, and a lovely man roasted ten pounds of the spicy little devils for us to take back with us - my car smelled amazing, and still does, a little. We cleaned and bagged them when we got home, and Dick, who had looked askance at me when I told the gentleman that we wanted "medium", ate a whole roasted chile, seeds and all, then had to race to the kitchen for water, milk, sour cream, etc. to put out the fire. He has accused me (joking, I hope) of using this blog just to humiliate him, which I wouldn't do, did he not give me so many opportunities...
Now we're busy making chiles rellenos, green chile omelettes, green chile salsa, green chile soup, even a jalapeno apple pie, so must get cookin'!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Busy in Bisbee!
I was very cranky last week because we had made plans to go away and I was going to miss two writing classes, two USTA league matches, a lunch in Naco with friends and the Pie Baking Contest at the Farmer's Market. As it turned out, the week's birthday trip was absolutely wonderful and the best thing we could have done, but the fact remains... we are busy here! When my far away friends ask, "But what do you DO there?" - I hardly know where to begin...
So I'll begin on the weekend before vacation, which was the weekend of the Bisbee Bloomers Garden Tour. Sara and I had volunteered to be Suzi's slaves for the Bisbee Bloomers party at her house on Friday night, the evening soiree before the weekend's garden tours. All the ladies in the Bloomers, as well as people whose gardens were on the tour were invited. Since I was the bartender, I had the primo spot in the carport, next to the new desert mural Suzi had just painted on her carport wall... between the lovely wine I was pouring and the high level of interest in the mural, I got to meet just about everybody!
On Saturday's tour, the gardens we saw were astonishing... most of them tucked back behind unassuming walls and fences, so that walking into these hidden edens literally could make you gasp in surprise - so much beauty, so much care lavished on these lush islands of color, sound and aroma... I wanted to live in every one of them! Several of the garden owners offered refreshments, and some even employed musicians, including our friend Jack, who played his guitar in his very own shady bower.
This weekend was also the Plein Aire Painting weekend, so many of the painters went to the gardens for inspiration... I suspect their work will show up in local galleries shortly.
The best thing about the Garden Tour is that the money raised goes to supply Doggie Poop Bags at stations all around town, which probably explains why, although everyone in Bisbee seems to own at least two dogs, you very seldom see the unlovely evidence of their well-fed existence on the local streets and sidewalks. Thanks, ladies!
As for last week's vacation... that's worth a whole 'nother story... stay tuned!
So I'll begin on the weekend before vacation, which was the weekend of the Bisbee Bloomers Garden Tour. Sara and I had volunteered to be Suzi's slaves for the Bisbee Bloomers party at her house on Friday night, the evening soiree before the weekend's garden tours. All the ladies in the Bloomers, as well as people whose gardens were on the tour were invited. Since I was the bartender, I had the primo spot in the carport, next to the new desert mural Suzi had just painted on her carport wall... between the lovely wine I was pouring and the high level of interest in the mural, I got to meet just about everybody!
On Saturday's tour, the gardens we saw were astonishing... most of them tucked back behind unassuming walls and fences, so that walking into these hidden edens literally could make you gasp in surprise - so much beauty, so much care lavished on these lush islands of color, sound and aroma... I wanted to live in every one of them! Several of the garden owners offered refreshments, and some even employed musicians, including our friend Jack, who played his guitar in his very own shady bower.
This weekend was also the Plein Aire Painting weekend, so many of the painters went to the gardens for inspiration... I suspect their work will show up in local galleries shortly.
The best thing about the Garden Tour is that the money raised goes to supply Doggie Poop Bags at stations all around town, which probably explains why, although everyone in Bisbee seems to own at least two dogs, you very seldom see the unlovely evidence of their well-fed existence on the local streets and sidewalks. Thanks, ladies!
As for last week's vacation... that's worth a whole 'nother story... stay tuned!
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