Dessert in the Desert...

Note:  for some reason I haven't figured out yet with these most recent posts, they result in more like BLOB than blog entries. Can't seem to get anything to translate from the iPad. As soon as get my hands on a stationary computer (hmmmm maybe I'll buy a laptop).


To go on:

I went to the English Rose Tea Room in downtown Carefree today and had my very first official authentic English Scone along with real Devon cream, strawberry jam and French pressed coffee. The irony of having a real scone in, of all places, a desert has not passed me. Nor has the irony of having my first real scone at 59 years old (the rocks at Paneras represented as "scones" notwithstanding).

This new experience was part of one of my walks into town and back. This is the "high" season in this part of Arizona and I can see why. The weather is glorious (low 70's by midday). It's a bit high I hear for this time of year this week. Last week was running low (actually freezing some nights). Though each and every day so far the sky has been cloudless and so blue. Does one ever get tired of sunny days? I suppose. Long rainy days have there place. And Vivaldi's inspiration for his Four Seasons I well understand. But there's something about being outside on a perfect day, every day, in the middle of January that I can't imagine getting old.

With this time of year come the art shows, wine festivals, horse shows, car shows... A lot to do --- or not. And so much to do "outside.".   My sister-in-law (my brother's widow) does some real mountain-biking regularly and she will be 50 this year I think. Horse back riding has to be an amazing experience in this weather on this terrain (barring the surprising appearance of any snakes - what kind I don't know though rattlers are more in summer I hope).  I love this part of the country six to eight months of the year (remember the summers are intolerable In the desert). I see a lot of tourists and I recognize the snowbirds. Maybe I'll become one myself soon. I fantasize about having a cottage near (very near) a beach but the pricing for that dream seems unrealistic. THIS dream is doable (just have to figure out where to go for the summers that is affordable).

And hmmmmm what would I do? I'd paint! There is such inspiration here from blooming cacti to mountain views. What's amazing to me here now in the middle of winter when nothing is flowering and whatever has passed as grass is now brown, there is such surprising color and vibrancy all around. This is where I see what " purple mountain majesty" must come from. I'd walk (I'm far too breakable with my back to ride a horse or a bike). I still want to try fly fishing and maybe some yoga (without flexing my back = doctor's orders - is that possible?).  And here I'd imagine yoga (the very little I know about it) would be such an enhanced experience outside with the air so pristine and the quiet here in the foothills. Of course I'd work at whatever I am confined to be able to do with this stupid back thing. I would volunteer for something (outside of course - maybe at someplace like the wildlife sanctuary). I'd sit on my patio some evenings watching sunsets with a glass (or two) of wine waiting to also (so maybe more than two glasses of wine) look up at the clear night and marveling at the stars.

 And, of course, I would be sure to make it into town every once in a while to sit outside enjoying my scones and coffee in a magical environment of pink napkins, pink roses, tea cup chandeliers, black wrought iron tables, wrens flitting about for the crumbs on the floor and simply enjoy the time, the place and the dessert.