Silence

Just when I think I've seen it all. 

We have the Phelps family coming to Scottsdale.

They are scheduled to picket First Born's school today.

Apparently, there is too much tolerance. 

God's vocabulary does not include tolerance. 

First Born is participating in a silent protest.

I, too, am silent, or rather, speechless, 

but for different reasons. 

P.S.

  

The day after. 

 

It wasn't exactly a silent protest, but is was peaceful.  

Not Charlotte's Web

These incredible creatures are not the reason for our hasty retreat from the desert. 

But, I still don't want to meet one. 

These photos are from an arachnefriendly friend 

in Tucson, taken inside his house.

Want to go?

Test for Mango Addiction

First Born has a problem.

She can't stop eating mango. 

This may not sound serious to you, but, 

mango is expensive. 

I bought some for a dinner party.

It was all gone long before the dessert course.

I bought some today. 

Guess what happened. 

It's as if she has an internal mango magnet. 

She is drawn to mangos. 

It's a shame we don't have a mango tree in the garden.  

I reprimanded her for her indulgent behavior. 

She retorted, quick as a flash, that she has friends

that have to have monthly drug tests. 

That her mango habit was comparatively cheap and healthy. 

I wish she ate apples (or lemons) with the 

same fevour, but, as addictions go,

things could be worse. 

The Hedonistic Lemon Lover

A lemon by Manet

I have been accused of having an obsession with lemons. 

So?

It's fabulous . . .

I've just bumped into someone new. 

An interesting, creative, thinking person from another country.

I asked how he liked living in Scottsdale. 

He said that he loves the warm, dry weather, 

the scenery, and the low taxes. 

He lives alone in an enormous house with 

land, a pool and tennis court. 

He has satellite radio and television, 

as well as food flown in. 

He says it's fabulous as long as you get away regularly, 

and don't talk to anyone local.

????

Don't Do Dishes

Little One has a little friend.

She sometimes goes to the friend's house after school.

Little Friend is very nice and very sporty.

Her parents are very busy.

Anything that saves time is welcome.

So.

They don't use plates.

They don't use bowls.

They don't use plastic or paper plates or bowls.

The children eat everything out of small, plastic bags.

Snacks. Ok. 

Chips. Ok. 

Popcorn. Ok.

But, tortillas with salsa?

Is that ok?

I asked Little One if they ate their dinners out of bags.

She wasn't sure.

Just think of it.

Roast chicken and mashed potato in a bag. 

Lasagne in a bag.

Pea soup in a bag. 

Tuna salad in a bag. 

Scrambled eggs . . .

Why didn't someone think of this before?

Besides NASA.

I know I am old fashioned. 

I don't like to use my mobile phone whilst driving.

And I like plates, forks, knives, and napkins. 

Salsa Verde

We had friends for dinner. 

Fun people.

Vegetarians. 

No meat, no dairy, no eggs. 

No problem. 

I opened a book and found a recipe for Salsa Verde.

Italian Salsa Verde.

Similar to pesto, but made with 

parsley and without nuts.

Fresh lemons - grate some peel and squeeze some juice.

Olive oil, salt, pepper, and chili oil. 

Capers, spring onions, but I didn't use the anchovy paste in the end.

Flat leaf parsley, washed.  Chop finely. 

Capers in their salt.  Rinse, soak, and chop finely. 

Garlic.  Mash or chop finely. 

Here it is.  Did I say, chop finely? 

Get some bread. 

Dip. 

Hope you like it. 

Sucking Lemons

Lemons for supper. 

Lemons showing off.

A happy lemon tree. 

Lemon crush.

I love lemons. 

Philip Larkin

They fuck you up, your mum and dad, 

 They may not mean to, but they do. 

They fill you with the faults they had.

 And add some extra, just for you. 

But they were fucked up in their turn,

 By fools in old-style hats and coats. 

Who half the time were soppy-stern,

 And half at one another's throats. 

Man hands on misery to man, 

 It deepens like a costal shelf.

Get out as early as you can,

 And don't have any kids yourself. 

I like to read this

now and again.

It has some truth, 

but, not all are able , 

or would even want 

to live like Philip Larkin.  

Friends for Dinner

Friends for dinner.

It doesn't mean the same thing as,

chicken for dinner.  Or fish.  Or rice. 

You get the idea. 

Our friends are vegan.

No meat or dairy. 

We too, prefer to eschew than to chew meat. 

But, try to plan a menu without dairy. 

Without cheese.

Without a small pat of butter. 

Without the tiniest dollop of cream. 

Tricky. 

I will be brushing up on my Turkish salad selection.

There is a saying in Turkey. 

Dressed with good olive oil, fresh lemon juice, and a pinch of salt, 

even sawdust tastes good. 

Not sure what that means. 

Not even sure where to get fresh sawdust . . . 

Wonder if I could substitute frozen? 

Sui generis

Sui generis. 

It means - unique, of its own kind. 

One could argue that there is little on this earth that is truly unique and of its own kind. 

But, don't let that stop you.

Confession

Yes, we are leaving. 

There are things that we cannot change, 

in ourselves or in our environment. 

But, I have learned a few things about living in Scottsdale. 

Despite my own allergies to the indigenous dust 

and foreign pollen, 

the temperature in winter is exceptionally pleasant. 

The days are warm and balmy.  

The nights are comfortably cool. 

We often have a slight breeze. 

The sun shines every day. 

When is rains, we rejoice. 

We know that the sun will soon be out.

The sky is blue during the day. 

The same sky is vivid pink, orange, and red in 

early morning and late evening. 

All this whilst the rest of the country is in sub zero temperatures. 

Snow, sleet, ice, and cold.

Yes, we are leaving. 

There are things that we cannot change, 

in ourselves or in our environment. 

But, I now understand why so many move to Arizona. 

Shoes of Desire

Shoes I desire. 

First Born Was Invited To a Dance

First Born was invited to a dance.

By a boy.

A tall, hockey playing boy. 

She got a new dress. 

She borrowed high heels. 

He brought her a corsage. 

She was excited. 

She looked beautiful.

Off she went.  

They had dinner with some other people. 

Off they went, again. 

The lad then got a text message.

From his mum. 

He became moody.  Very moody. 

First Born enquired, was there something wrong? 

"My Great Grandmother has just died". 

Oh dear.  

The evening was ruined.  No dancing. No laughing. No fun. 

The lad was distraught.  He left. 

First Born was left. 

So.

She danced with her girlfriends. 

She came home with her girlfriends. 

She had a nice time, with her girlfriends. 

But, we all felt sad for the lad. 

After all, his Great Grandmother just had passed. 

Or had she? 

A few days later, First Born received the following text message. 

'Great Grandma didn't die after all.  My mistake'.

They haven't spoken since.  

Sneezy, Wheezy, and Queasy

Guilty

Sneezy, Wheezy, and Queasy.

No, they aren't dwarves. 

It's me.

The sun is shining.  

We enjoy temperatures of 78 in the shade. 

So do the plants of Scottsdale.

They are blooming in droves. 

Nothing flamboyant or photogenic. 

Just millions of minute, tiny blossoms, discreetly disseminating dust and pollen.

Our little town should be called Dustdale or Pollendale. 

Don'tleavethehousewithoutahankydale.

Youknowyouwillbesorryifyoudon'ttakeanantihistaminetabletdale. 

Iknowyoumissthedamp,fresh,relativelypollenfreeseaairofCornwalldale.

Okay, the last one is silly.

But, for an ardent garden lover, it is a torturous irony.  

This is the time of year to garden, to be outside. 

Soon it will be too hot and dry. 

Some people are just not cut out for desert living. 

I love Pepperoni

I love pepperoni. 

But, what is natural pepperoni? 

(as advertised on television for a pizza chain). 

Can pepperoni be natural? 

I never cared before. 

Not sure I do now. 

I still love pepperoni, natural or unnatural.

 

The Wrong Side

First Born wants to leave. 

It is no secret. 

She is tired of the questions. 

She was born in England.

Where did she learn English?

England is in South America, isn't it? 

When she tells people she is half American, 

she gets asked, which half? 

She now replies, 

the wrong side. 

I, at least, am happy that school resumes today. 

Myrtle. 

Sucking Out One's Soul

One wonders, occasionally, how much one's children understand.  

Sometimes they get things, but, then, other times . . . 

Little One is, occasionally, profound. 

She announced, out of the blue, that, 

Scottsdale was crushing her creativity and 

sucking out her soul. 

I phoned our friendly estate agents that evening. 

Polishing the silver, 

Myrtle. x