Luxury

In the desert, I bathe with mangoes and pomegranates. Then I step into the sandy heat to play fetch with the dog.

Opportunity

It never ceases to amaze me what the mind can do to the body.

Yesterday I met a whole barnful of horses. I felt fervently grateful to be on Jak and not Tommy. He was remarkably calm, even about the llamas, and totally endeared himself to everyone/thing.

I don't think anyone has ever offered me a horse for free before. I don't see how I can accept in good conscience. I have too many horses on my hands already.

However, she also said she would teach me about breaking and training in return for a hand with her newest projects. I feel suddenly like I don't have enough time.

Not Up North

It's true. I'm not in Flagstaff anymore - and actually haven't been all week. It's getting to that beautiful time of year in Tucson. The days are still hot but not sweltering and the evenings are pretty much the perfect temperature.

I tend to forget how poisonous the desert is. Yesterday I stepped lightly on a thorn while wandering around outside barefoot. That spot in the bottom of my foot is now swollen and irritated, even though the sticker barely even pierced my skin.

I am getting better at negotiating with my clients. I'm starting to get some sense of what my web work is worth.

And, I came by a seat for my road bike again. It felt great to be back on wheels. I want to ride a lot now.

I just noticed that it's incredibly windy. This means I will ride Jak today. He's spooky, but not genuinely scared of things that aren't there. Unlike Tommy.

Up North

It's already fall in Flagstaff. A cold wind blows. Leaves spiral out of trees. I am here now, but only visiting. It is strange though, this town certainly still feel more familiar than Tucson.

Mira seems to think my stomach must exist for the sole purpose of housing her.

Monsoon

There is nothing like running in off the trail with a storm on your heels, watching the horse in front dodge around cactus and branches. It was fun to ride with Jesse today. I've been going it alone mostly, lately.

We unsaddled in a light rain. Now the mountains are every color, backed by flickers of lightning.

More

The spoon photos from last nite. Inner vitz > family > extended > dinner party.

Oh, Hugh

Last nite was a classic family gathering. It all started innocently enough. It is a valid question, really, whether or not everyone can dangle a spoon off the tip of their nose.

Later, the Hugh dance returned to the spotlight. Some of the new photos prompted me to build a new page on the inner vitz, under randomness.

There and back again, again

I just returned to Tucson from another brief stint in Iowa. I heard Marilynne Robinson speak, and had more good times hanging out with Brian.

On my trip back, the usual benevolent travel-luck-fairy that seems to follow me around when I'm on the move apparently had better things to do. I gained a sense of foreboding as soon as I sat down on the flight out from Cedar Rapids and the surly fifteen year old (with hair so long it managed to tickle the skin on my arm the whole flight no matter how far I leaned towards the aisle) who was my seat-mate greeted me with the sullen question, "Ever flown before?" and then proceeded to tell me that she herself was "forced" to fly all the time, traveling between two estranged parents. I tried not to say anything condescending, listen politely and be supportive of all her various hobbies she felt the need to demonstrate (like singing and drawing), but I was fervently glad that flight only lasted half an hour.

Upon landing, I darted away from the startled girl before she had time to ask me for my contact information, and entered the sanctuary of Chicago, O'Hare. There, I discovered my flight was delayed beyond my three hour layover. I called people until my cell phone battery started to look weak, and then wandered off to find the least unpleasant place to whittle away my remaining time.

Before long, I was approached by a very friendly, blonde-haired, attractive, slightly older than me, flannel pants and croc wearing lady. I was sitting by a window drinking an $8 corona and reading The Devil Wear Prada - while not wearing anything resembling Prada myself. She asked if she could sit at my table. I said yes. She started talking. I think she was a lesbian. She was fun to talk to. I mentioned Brian frequently.

I eventually left her company to go to my gate, so I could sit there for over and hour before I got on my plane, only to sit between two people who did not speak English for two hours before we were airborne.

I finally made it to Phoenix four hours later than I should have, and of course missed the last flight to Tucson. I haggled them into putting me on the last airport shuttle, and my glorious parents rescued me from he dingy Circle K at Orange Grove and Thornydale just after midnight. 2:00 am Iowa time.

Stan is still waiting for me at the airport. Poor little fellow.

Now, I get to celebrate my homecoming by attending my favorite class ever, Painting I.