Welcome 2012!

Well, it’s the start of a new year. I’ve never been one to wish myself rid of a year gone by, I’ll not start now. Last year had its moments. The summer was a good one with much time spent in the pool and before that we enjoyed a late winter and early spring full of visitors from our past whose company we always will enjoy. Sure, the latter half wasn’t exactly “ideal” but what’s life without a little shake-up now and then?

I’m all about looking ahead. What is, is. What you do with that is what separates those who enjoy a propitious life from those who don’t. And, recent events have presented, to me, opportunity and education. I’ve learned a great deal about my physical resilience these last two months. The human body is an amazing thing. Given the right amounts of care and nourishment (as we know well what too much or little of either can do) it will be there for you, even under the most incomprehensible of conditions. Yes, as I grow wiser (e.g.; older) I learn that my physical limitations are not so limiting, it’s what I choose to do or not do that define my limits.

Opportunity is a moment or occasion, a juncture in life, small or large, that tests to see if you’re still awake. Great opportunities present themselves in understated and hidden ways; mediocre opportunities slap you in the face. I’m choosing to look upon my recent transition to the status of unemployed as one of those hidden opportunities. This has been a tact that has proven successful in the past and there is no reason it shouldn’t be so this time. This town is full of many good employers, public and private, and I know I can help one of them. So, as soon as I finish my physical rehabilitation I will begin, in earnest, professional rehabilitation.

Thus inspirited, I welcome 2012 just as I welcomed 2011, and all the years before. Because, it was the years past that brought me to where I am today; a happy being, married to a beautiful and intelligent woman, The Lovely Gail. The future may hold hurdles and challenges, hell, the past had hurdles and challenges. I have no reason to think that by the time I reach 2013 the weight and measure of this year ahead will not be in the favor of good and better. May the consequence of this coming year prove the same for you.

Happy New Year my friends, from myself and The Lovely One.

On the Road

We’re on the road. We’ve been on the road for a while now, almost five weeks. It’s turning out to be more of a demanding journey than originally expected. You know what I mean; it’s a case of looking at a Google map of the route you need to take, only to find the map made the trip look deceivingly short and simple. So is the case of this road trip.

The road we are on is the road to recovery. Back on October 12, we posted an entry about the journey yet to come. Since, we have gone through the preparations and the event and now are on the road back to our previous normalcy. During the preparations I did many things I otherwise would have procrastinated into the New Year, or further. Completing a number of home repair and winterization chores so The Lovely Gail would be set for the next few months, at least from a home maintenance perspective.

The big event was somewhat of a non-event, at least for me. I drove myself and The Lovely One to the hospital and went through all the pre-surgery procedures that anyone familiar with such an activity can well imagine, and then I woke up several hours later. It was much more of a trial for The Lovely Gail. She was supported, however, by two dear friends the entire time. Afterward, in post-op, was when we set out on the road. And, we’ve been traveling ever since.

Along the way we’ve encountered some truly wonderful people. These are people, most of whom we’ve known for some time, who have shown us tremendous kindness and generosity. We have been fortunate to encounter many new faces as well, whether providing us services or just hearing of our difficulty and wanting to help, generous people all. This has been an enlightening trip, individuals of exemplary character have come forth to ease our passage as we move through this time and for that we will be ever grateful. Lucky we are to be surrounded by such compassion and humanity.

I knew the trip would be long. In advance of the trip I somehow minimize it by measuring its length, the time it would consume, against my remaining years, a perspective that overly simplified the course ahead. Once you’re on the road, though, the time seems to drag. This trip can’t be rushed either, as I am finding. I am at that stage, that milepost if you will, where I feel like I am nearly 100 percent, only to have that twinge of muscular pain that clearly states, “Not so fast there, buddy”. I find I must limit my gesticulations, and this in turn affects my ability to communicate. The Lovely One seems to be OK with this, however.

So, as we pull back out onto el camino a salud and resume the journey, and while not all that has come to pass has been expected or desired, we’re nevertheless grateful for friends and family, as well as health and happiness. Nothing ahead is insurmountable; it’s just a matter of time.

.

This N' That

I might be away from the blog a bit starting next week so I thought I’d sneak in another post really quick before the big day.


Killer Bug…

Spied a two and a half inch long insect a while back hunting baby tarantulas in the rocks. It was a rather menacing little creature. It had a long black body and body length dark orange wings. I am not at all sure what it is but it was definitely a predator. It rapidly scurried about in overlapping circular patterns of about one foot in diameter. It was very methodical in how it searched and hunted. When it found a baby tarantula along the foundation of the house, it attacked it by latching onto it in a lethal way around the narrow mid-section of the furry arachnid. Quite fascinating.

After the unlucky prey was sufficiently dead it carried it off. To where I am not sure because by the time it started to cart off its pretty about a half hour had passed and I had things to do. I never did see it fly. It just hunted, killed and left, a veritable Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom right there by the front door.

This is the shot of the predator standing guard over its prey. The entire natural selection food chain drama playing out right in the front yard.



Killer Bird…

I wasn’t home for this. The Lovely Gail caught sight of a hawk of some type out on the patio furniture the other day, recently. She was finishing off a tapestry project at the dining room table and stopped for a break. Upon turning around she stared agape right at this large and beautiful bird.

Of course, the lighting is never the best, and usually the worst, when these events occur. But, trooper that she is she managed a few good shots with the camera before it took flight. A stately creature, it was probably headed south to warmer climes for the winter.

Name that Hawk. I can make out some markings but its still hard to tell what it is.

You can click once on any image and see a larger version.



Killer Winter Garden!

The winter garden is in and well on its way. The Lovely One has always had a green thumb, but ever since getting her raised bed garden not a winter or summer season has yet passed without some bountiful offering brought forth by her care and nurturing.

This winter finds us well planted with green onions and snow peas, bok choi and leeks, chard, leaf lettuce and cilantro. The peas are new for the garden but the rest have proven successful in the past and should yield abundantly. The lettuce is always a good producer and fresh from the garden salads this winter will be plenty and delicious. We can’t wait!

Another promising crop brought to you by Lovely Gail the Gardener!

Is this what they mean when they say 'eat close to the earth'?



I’ll post an update regarding my upcoming medical adventure as soon as I can type again. Until then, take care and stay in touch!

 

.

Patagonia & Nogales & The Diamond

We went for an overland cruse the other day. For some time now we’ve been meaning to explore the area to the south, between Tucson and the International Border. So we filled the van full of gas and headed out onto I10. From our house it is just about 30 miles to where we turn off of I10 and head south.

The first part of the trip is pretty familiar. I have written in the past of our trips down into Southern Arizona’s wine country and that was the route we took to get us started. We headed south from I10 on AZ-83 up into the Santa Rita foothills and across areas of the Coronado National forest. Eventually we arrived in Sonoita. Sonoita isn’t so much a town as a light sprinkling of buildings over a two square mile area; a few ranches, a few businesses (very few), a gas station, a rodeo grounds and largish Border Patrol station with hundreds of various green and white vehicles of various sizes and off-road capabilities compounded out back.  It is approximately 25 miles from I10 to Sonoita.

We turned west at this juncture onto AZ-82. It is 12 miles from Sonoita to Patagonia and the drive is quite scenic. The highway follows a valley that separates the Santa Rita range from the Patagonia Range. There appears to be a small amount of light agriculture occurring in areas, mostly feed grains and grasses, as well and various grazing stocks. There are many more trees up in this area, mostly deciduous types and small scrub oaks. It’s a very peaceful drive, and very different from the lower elevations of Tucson.

Patagonia is a small, old town. As we drove through and around the central town area it seemed the newest building we saw was the Post Office, which appeared to have been built in the late 60’s or early 70’s. Getting about here, at least for us, would prove quite challenging. Lots of dirt parking and almost no sidewalks, ramps were present here and there, but most were a little on the steep side and appeared to have been installed either as an afterthought or before there were codes for such things. A pretty town, just not a place where people like us would want to get out and tramp around. So, onward we went.

Downtown Patagonia

 

Our next stop was Patagonia Lake.  This is an Arizona State Park, the turnoff to which is about 7 miles beyond the town. It’s another four miles from AZ-82 to the lake itself. When we arrived at the ranger station we chatted with the person there regarding accessible pathway and such however, it wasn’t looking good.  Everything around the lake, and outward, was up. That is to say, it was pretty hilly. We drove in and checked it all out but it was definitely not a place we could travel far without some form of motorization.  So, onward we went.

Back out at the highway we headed south 12 miles towards Nogales and the International Border. Along the way we drove past the Nogales International Airport. The incongruity of the name and the scene did not escape either of us. There were two buildings at this lonely little international air hub, one an administrative facility not much larger than a four bedroom house and the other was a large hanger. There were a few single engine prop planes and a large twin present, beyond that it was pretty quiet.

When we reached Nogales we decided to try and get as close to the Port of Entry as we could before we were beyond the point of no return. We got to within 100 yards before having to turn parallel to the border. It was quite congested, even for a Sunday, but very orderly. We could clearly see the port and the multitude of signage advising and warning of this and that. We moved west a few blocks and could get a good shot at the border fence and the crowded city of Nogales, Mexico beyond. Here’s an interesting statistic, the population of Nogales, Arizona is about 22,000, and the population of Nogales, Mexico is 330,000. Location, location, location!

The border fence as seen from Nogales, AZ looking across into Mexico

 

We were not inclined to stop in Nogales, primarily because we did not know our way around and it is a very hilly town. So we headed north in I19. This short interstate is a surprisingly scenic drive. It parallels the Santa Cruz River and there are endless groves of cottonwoods along these southern upstream reaches of the mostly dry river. We drove north past Rio Rico, Tumacacori, Tubac, Armado and Green Valley (GV). Just before reaching GV we started thinking about food. We had never really stopped in GV before so we thought we’d drive up one of the main drags and see what we could find. Well, GV is a huge retirement community, spotted end to end with retirement villages and communities and golf courses. And, with it being Sunday, it seemed like the town was closed up. It was pretty dead, save the occasional senior bicycling through the streets. So onward we went.

It was at this point The Lovely Gail said, “I know where we can go!” Outwardly I politely smiled and asked where but in my head I was saying, “Thank God! After about 130 miles in this seat my ass is ready to be out of it!” So, at 51 miles north of Nogales we exited the freeway at Pima Mine Road and stopped at the Desert Diamond Casino. We ate at their restaurant, Agave. It was pretty good, not standout, but pretty good for a casino restaurant. After a nice large Cob Salad for the Lovely One and a tasty Reuben on Rye with a Pacifico for me we received the check and were pleasantly surprised to learn that there’s no tax charged by businesses on the reservation, sweet! So we headed home.

Even though we didn’t get a chance to get out and hike around much it was still a nice little adventure. We saw some new country and interesting sights, and we did it together. A nice way to spend a day with someone special.

Off The Cuff

I’ve had something pressing on my mind of late. Akin to a brush with mortality, only from a great distance. Not so much death as deterioration, a personal and physical sense of dilapidation or disrepair. It seems rather odd that in over 30 years of living with a disability I’ve never really felt myself in disrepair until recently. It must be this age thing.

Pain seems to be an ever present part of life now. Never not present, a good day is less and the distraction not as noticeable. Learning to be less tolerant of it is a problem for me. Somehow I’ve managed to make it part of my day-to-day, marginalizing it into the background noise that is a part of every modern life. Big mistake.

I’ve added a new name and address to my contacts list recently. A professional and a professor at the university, he is a seeker, a teacher and a practitioner of skills and knowledge. He will be a good person to know in the coming months. He told me the other day that all of the tendons and ligaments that comprise my left rotator cuff are seriously damaged. Some, if not all, irreparably. It looks to have been a worsening process that has been developing for some time. Not a singular event where everything popped and snapped all at once, but an ongoing wearing down of tissues over time, and one by one things tore and became disconnected.  All I could respond with was, “that sucks”.

The surgery is scheduled for November 8. The primary intent is to effect modifications that will reduce pain over the long term. Secondarily, my new friend at the university will look for repair opportunities, if any exist, and exploit those that are available. As for the near term, I guess I will be really disabled for a bit. Being left with one working limb will certainly put a damper on the daily routine, but then I’ve never been one to shrink from a challenge. The long term outlook is more worrisome. It points towards the need to preserve what is left as long as possible in order to maintain independence and the inevitable limitations that will come as I age will come sooner than originally expected. A slower and more deliberate lifestyle is in store.

As evolved as we humans think we are it seems, more often than not, we learn only after we’ve past critical milestones beyond which there are no U-turns allowed. Such is the case with my pushing the pain back and soldiering on. Stupid move. Certainly there are other factors that contributed to the conveyance of myself to this current location; the ever-present masking pains that are a part of every quadriplegic’s life, a previous diagnosis for a condition that produced nerve related pain and not exhibiting the limited arm movements typical of a serious rotator cuff injury have all provided a means to keep stealth the true underlying issue. If I only knew then, what I know now.

So it’s with some reflection that I lift off the accelerator, drop a gear and cruse at a slower and more leisured speed for the remainder of the trip. You hear those stories of people who come close to death and only then realize the true beauty in the everyday, I think I’ll get started now and not wait for a dark shadow to first pass over me. Adjustments will need to be made and different approaches taken but it’s doable. Hell, it’s not like it’s a broken neck or anything…

Miscellaneous Thoughts & Ramblings...

Swimming

The sun’s daily journey across the Tucson sky is moving closer to the southern horizon. As a consequence of the longer nights and cooler temperatures, the pool is cooling. By 3:00 PM it is about 97% in the shade of the house and it will not be long until the shade will be covering it by 2:00 PM. So, in these waning days, we are enjoying the last swims of the season. 

The pool is a freeing place. It is without gravity and that is why we like the pool. To heave my carcass from my chair and up onto the edge of the pool is to anticipate the impending freedom of movement that will come once I’m in. To weigh nothing, to move without effort, to float in the literal sense. It is to be disentangled from the ever present restraints of incapacity. The pool is a 12,000 gallon equalizer. I fly like a giant, pale, featherless bird when I’m in there. I swim every day I can during the summer season, it is a daily priority.

I never wanted a pool. It is a huge front-loaded expense and contains further ongoing maintenance costs. There are chemicals to be managed and tested, there are expensive pumps and filter equipment to maintain and we easily lose 100 gallons a week to evaporation (not to mention all the water I splash out on a regular basis). Pools are giant wet money holes.

As this season comes to an end and I reflect on my second full season as a pool owner I have but only one thought: I like my pool.

Equinox

The fall equinox is upon us. I think I’ve talked in the past about my loathing of this event. I tolerate the summer solstice, and even though I know the days aren’t noticeably shorter I still lean to repugnance upon its passing. It is the fall equinox I execrate. I make no bones of my dislike for its ever lengthening nights and the cold it brings upon me. Not until late February will I be happy again about this, the length of the days.

So, get used to it!

The Blather

I was watching a national financial news show the other morning. I always watch their pre-market show over breakfast, before I head off to work. They too, however, are falling victim to the weak minded tact of talking and shouting over one another in some lame effort to make a point. This seems to have become the modus-preferred in recent years, in news, in politics, in life. That’s too bad. 

It seems that deporting oneself with decorum and civility is out of vogue. Society seems to have deduced that if one can shout loud enough and long enough, they win. Sadly too, it appears to work, as it leverages the ever shortening attention span of the majority of our citizenry. No longer do we need to remember whom had the facts straight, or whose reasoned argument stood strong on its merits. Now all we need remember is who the loud one that got the last word in was. It’s made things so much easier.

I believe that when the over-talk stops, if it ever does, we will be the poorer for it. Deep thought and a well-reasoned factually supported argument will be dismissed as unexciting and uninteresting and the vitiated public debate will be in the hands of carnival barkers. Maybe it already is. The shouters never seem to have an argument; if they did it would stand of its own, without need for the props of audacity.

.

Twenty-One

This past Friday we took off out of town to see a part of Arizona we hadn’t seen. There are several paces in this state that are on our list to go see and we’ve just returned from checking one off the list. We went up to the city of Prescott to see it and the surrounding area. While there, we celebrated twenty-one years of marriage.

Prescott is just over three and a half hours from our place just west of downtown. The obvious route is I10 to Phoenix then I17 to AZ-69. Not a difficult drive by any stretch. The scenery along the route is all very familiar Sonora Desert landscape until we are about 20 mile south of the junction for AZ-69. It’s about here that the interstate starts climbing up to the plateaus and savanna step land, and it’s here that the expansive views become distinctly different.

Entering Phoenix on I10. An easy drive, given the possibilities.



The land here doesn’t hide its volcanic history. Cone shaped mountains and clearly exposed recent (5 to 15 million years ago) lava flows are easily distinguished. This sudden change in elevation tells you that you are climbing a southwestern edge of the Colorado Plateau, the top of which starts south of Flagstaff. The area we are in is called the transition zone. The vegetation, what there is, is low scrub and grasses with the occasional lone tree standing isolated and stark. Passing through we can’t help but admire the bleak and austere beauty.

As we approached Prescott we began to see more and more trees. Off in the near distance the hills climb to the low mountains, we were at the lower tree line, where the savanna gives way to the conifer forests. Not since last year during our trip to Washington D.C. had we been any place where tall trees grew and occurred naturally. It was surprisingly green. We like it.

The Lovely Gail, seemingly awe-struck by the enormous trees.



Since Phoenix it had been spraying light rain off and on. As we climbed in elevation the clouds became thicker and closer, the earth rising to meet them and they dropping the meet the earth. While frequent use of the wipers was required, the roadway was never “wet”. Mild thunder, infrequent lightening and, at least from a dried out Tucsonan perspective, a pleasant light rain welcomed us to Prescott. It continued to rain off and on, in greater strength, the remainder of the day and into the night. Although, each time we stepped out, for dinner or whatever, we seemed to catch a break and be in between showers.



Whisky Row in Downtown Prescott

Prescott is a small town of about 40,000. While not as old a Tucson, it is an old town, founded proper in 1883 and serving as the Capitol of the Arizona Territory from 1864 to 1867 and then again from 1877 until Phoenix became the permanent Capitol in 1883. The architecture around town reflects this history with store fronts that are of a brick built frontier town. There is a beautiful tree covered central town plaza and in it is the old Yavapai County courthouse. We could not tell if it was still a functioning municipal building or a historic site.


The Yavapai County Courthouse in the town plaza.


As with most historic towns like this, the plaza square area was awash in shops, galleries and restaurants. On the north side was Whisky Row, and there were a number of bars and clubs that remained fairly busy from noon on. We hit the galleries and looked for art to take home. We managed pretty well, surprisingly. We bought three pieces on Saturday, one measuring about four feet by four feet, and proved challenging, but not impossible, to fit into the back of the van. The other pieces were small and were easily tucked away into the recesses of our rolling livingroom.

Our first night there, the night of our anniversary, we enjoyed a very well prepared meal at a restaurant called ‘The Rose’. A nice place serving fine food located in a modest two story late-Victorian house. Arizona liquor laws do not permit one to bring their own wine and pay corkage so we enjoy a toast in our room with a 2002 Clos Pegas Cabernet that I brought along for the ride. We then sampled the pan-seared foie gras and the corn bisque. The Lovely One ordered an excellent rack of lamb while I had a delicious medium rare duck breast. It was a wonderful cap to a lovely day.

Enjoying a nice afternoon in Prescott.



On the way out of town we stopped at Lynx Lake. It’s a small lake, about a mile long and a quarter mile wide, tucked away in the hills above Prescott. It is surrounded by mostly a pine forest with other deciduous trees sprinkled within. We hiked along the lake for a ways on a paved trail enjoying the chance to hear trees rustle and see leaves shimmer in the breeze. The lake was clean and clear and it appeared that only non-motorized boats were allowed on it. It’s funny that living in Tucson we don’t really notice the absence of tall trees (at least naturally occurring tall trees) as all the tree native to the Sonora Desert are generally 10 feet tall at their tallest, but once we started walking through the forest, getting in among the trees, it felt refreshing and familiar, like an old friend you hadn’t seen in a while. Maybe we’ll finally make down to Patagonia this fall and see what the mountains down towards Mexico have in the way of “tree-age”.



Beautiful and serene Lynx Lake

As we headed south, dropping down out of the volcanic plateau, we reflected on a nice trip, the beautiful scenery, the great food, the stunning art and twenty-one years of friendship and marriage. The altitude clicked down, the temperature clicked up and the vegetation became shorter and leafless. Then we saw it, wild and natural there off the freeway in a rock outcropping, a large prickly-pear cactus. And, off in the distance, a lone Saguaro, struggling to survive at the upper limits of its natural elevation range. We looked at each other and smiled, it was the scenery of home.

The Happy Couple at Lynx Lake. Just the day before, during breakfast at the hotel, a complete stranger walked up and said we made a cute couple. We can't argue that!

Click on the pictures to see larger versions.

Things Are Growing

There have been a few happenings around the Casa over the past few weeks. That’s what happens when time passes; things, things happen. The summer is a somewhat quiet, slow time in Tucson. Those who live here year-round appreciate that. Just as the heat of June hits its crescendo, and even the most stalwart Tucsonan thinks wistfully of Flagstaff, the monsoon begins to ramp up. This year has been a particularly rewarding season. The desert has turned green and lush and the air is moist and humid and the temperature has been averaging in the coolish upper 90’s. Pleasant.

The garden is in its post-peak downward cycle. All but one of the tomato bushes have been reduced to forked six inch stumps by The Lovely Gail. This year the ongoing garden experiment will explore the possibility of a second crop of tomatoes from the same plants. We have heard that it can be done here, successfully, so we’ll attempt it this year and see what sprouts.

The last of the cucumbers are just about ready to be taken. They have been a constant surprise in the thicket of the garden. We check often and do not see any, not even small starts, than seemingly out of thin air there will be a fully grown vegetable hanging there. As if someone went to Safeway, bought it and hung it there over night for us to find. Surprising, rewarding and tasty too!

A couple pickeling cucumbers approaching their peak. The Lovely One took these and a couple regular cumbers and made a fresh cold cucumber soup. The soup also had chives an mint from our backyard. Yummy!

The Lovely One tried her hand at cantaloupes this year. It wasn’t looking very good at the start. She had planted them outside of the raised bed, near the fence and towards the pool pump and equipment. The desert mice, squirrels and pack rats would regularly come by and nibble the blossoms and shoots. She constructed a two foot tall chicken wire fence in a three foot radius around it and that seemed to be a huge help. Well, that and all the trapping we did of mice, squirrels and the two pack rats living nearby. My happy gardener now has some rather impressive melons for anyone who wishes to stop by and admire. Three are nearly ready to harvest and three more the size of baseballs have appeared. We’ll be enjoying garden fresh cantaloupes within a week to ten days it seems.

Here you can see the three cantaloupes from about a week prior to this post. there are three others in there but they're about the size of baseballs.

And finally, the yellow squash has started producing. We had all but given up on it. They need to be pollinated in order to produce but the bees were few and far between early in the season. The Lovely Gail tried her hand at pollinating the plant with a fine tipped artists brush but soon the tomatoes were bearing and we needed to cover the garden with shade cloth to shield it from the intense June sun and the various creatures and critters that would seek a free lunch. Well, over the course of the summer a colony of bees somewhere off in the wild found a way creep up on the water in a far corner of the pool. They gather the pool water and take it to the hive, we suppose. This increase in bee traffic at the Casa has been a pollination plus! We’re seeing a significant increase in bee traffic at the garden and as a result the yellow squash plant has suddenly gone ballistic with vegetables. Yet another positive as a result of getting a pool.

The second half of the summer garden season is shaping up well, due in no small part to the hand and persistence of The Lovely Gail. We’ll look forward to what the late summer brings and I’m sure she has already started planning what the winter garden will produce.

This was taken about an hour prior to this post. The Lovely Gail plucked this bad boy today. There are two more that look just like it still out there and three more the size of grapefruit. The wine bottle is for perspective, that's a nice melon! Not bad for her first cantaloupe ever.

Click the pics to see them in a larger size!

Vineyards and Vistas

We took a trip south to the Sonoita/Elgin area the other day. The plan originally was to drive south through Sonoita and on southwest to Patagonia to see Patagonia lake, then head further south to Nogales at the international border. However, the day before our friends from here in Saguaro Cliffs, David and Lauren, called to tell us about a new winery of which they had heard recently and asked if we wanted to take a trip to check it out. So we said sure!

This winery, Charron Vineyards, is not too far from Tucson, approximately 36 miles and about halfway to the Sonoita/Elgin area wine region, so we stopped by there first before heading on further south. They had just finished bringing in their merlot grapes when we arrived and were in the process of pressing the juice using the small batch equipment they had on premise. What is interesting about this winery is that they are at a low enough elevation to be considered firmly within the Sonoran desert ecology. It seemed very odd to be driving through groves and groves of Ocotillo and prickly pear then suddenly come across a four acre vineyard. Their elevation is at 4200 feet, the higher end of the Sonoran desert eco-system, and they have planted Merlot and Cab-Franc and seem to be having pretty good luck. They make a White Merlot (and it's white, not pink) and a Blanc De Noirs from their own grapes that are quite good and they buy juice to make a California Merlot (red) as well as a Syrah.

Looking southwest across the hilltop vineyards at Charron. Up until, and depending on, the monsoon they irrigate regularly. The soil on this area contains a large amount of limestone, which is why there is such a dense growth of Ocotillo. It was humid this day and at noon the columns of cumulus that would eventually become thunderstorms were already starting to build.

We then drove on south another 25 miles to Lightening Ridge Cellars and, the weather seemed to reflect the name of the winery very well. The Elgin region is high desert savanna and you can see many miles across the high plain. As we dropped onto the plain from the north the weather in the south worsened and more than once it felt like we should be driving in the opposite direction. Lightening Ridge produces a number of Italian style wines using Italian grape varietals. They grow small blocks of Sangiovese, Nebbiolo, Montepulciano, Primitivo, Malvasia and Muscat Canelli from which they make their estate bottled wines. We left with two bottles in hand and as we drove away from the winery the sky to the distant west was almost black and lightning strikes were plentiful. During the 15 minute drive the village of Sonoita the rain picked up a little but was nothing terrible. Besides, it was a warm 80 to 85 degrees out.

We stopped at a little café for lunch before heading back to Tucson. The drive back provided us with great vistas of thunder storms moving slowly in the distance and constant rain that varied from sprinkles to downpours. At one point on Interstate 10, where the speed limit is 75, a storm cell opened up and dropped so much rain that traffic slowed to 45. Thank goodness for the human self-preservation instinct!

Looking northeast towards the Wetstone Mountains from the front of Lightning Ridge Winery. By now large portions of the landscape were blotted out with shadows from the building thunderheads. To the west about 15 or so miles it was charcoal grey, with sheets of rain, rolling thunder and much lightning.

The trip was enjoyable for many reasons but exploring two wineries for the first time and seeing the desert get a huge dose of rain were the highlight. The vast expanse of this place always impresses upon me just how small I am. The immenseness of this region is beautiful and this trip provided yet a new and different view of the landscape. There were the colors of the land lit by columns of sun breaking through the emptiness around the storm cells, and there were moving walls of water a mile high drifting ghostly and boundless across the enormous and distant valleys. We had not covered such distance during a day of monsoon storms before, it was rewarding in its beauty.

I often forget, as I move mechanically through my daily routine, just why we moved here to the desert southwest, even though my morning commute from the outskirts is replete with its own beautiful and changing panoramas. I needn’t go far, however, to refresh my view that this place, with its occasional harsh extremes, is lush with a hardened splendor that is very unique to this part of the world.

Yours truly and the Lightning Ridge mascot. One of the few dogs I've met that can look me straight in the eye without hardly raising its head.

Monsoon Activities

Get Cereus...

The Summer Monsoons are in high gear and all the beauty and danger that accompanies them are here too. There recently were swaths of the city without power due to 60 and 70 mph gusts and temporary road closures due to flash flooding were abundant. Yesterday a motorist was swept downstream after being caught by a flash flood that crossed a major roadway. He was rescued without incident. Although there are the inconveniences, there are beautiful things happening too.

The desert is turning a vibrant green and this is the start of the annual bloom season for the various types of Night Blooming Cereus. There are many species of cereus but none are more famous and more flighty than The Queen of the Night. We were fortunate to have a neighbor with a keen eye and a much better camera than our so she captured the images below. Beautiful indeed...




This is the Queen of the Night. We have one in our front yard but it has not bloomed yet this year. This beauty was showing at Tohono Chul Park. The Lovely Gail and our neighbor, Carolyn, went up one evening the the hoards of "petal peepers" to see a few of their many specimens in bloom.



This is a Cereus, but not at all the same as above. This just popped out one evening. It's right outside the front door, in front of a stack of windows that start at just about floor level. It was strikingly beautiful and delicate. It was a good thing we photographed when we did, the wild rabbits came by later that night and nibbled it all the way down to the cactus and it was but a nub the next morning.

Weather Central

We bought a weather station the other day. It’s not terribly sophisticated but it’s proving to be fun none the less. It measures temperature, both indoors and out, and it measures rain. We’re still getting familiar with it and experimenting with placement of the various components. However, the fun is in seeing what it has to tell us throughout any given day.

It is all wireless and operates on batteries using a weak 433 MHz radio. We can place the temperature sensor and the rain gauge up to 100 meters (328 feet) from the base but we think we have found locations that are much closer than that. The cool thing is that the rain gauge is self-emptying! Just set it and forget it, more or less.

It does not store data and we can’t hook it to our computers or home network, but it’s a good starter kit. We’ll no doubt learn a few things by taking this first rudimentary and inexpensive step. It’ll be fun and interesting.

This is the wireless, self-emptying, rain gauge. It has captured 0.67 inches of rain since this photo was taken.

This is the base, or receiver. As you can see, we like it warm indoors. 85.3 degrees in the office is just about right.

This is the outdoors temperature sensing unit, the least interesting of the three but useful none the less. Right now it resides on the BBQ island, until a more permanent home can be found.