Xeriscape

Xeriscape. I love that word. When I didn't know what it meant, I imagined a kaleidescope of color and textures, swirls of motion, something exotic.

"Xeri" means dry.  Dry landscape. Now it wasn't sounding so pretty after all. Who'd want to do that!?! Uh, me. Along with lots of other southwesterners. If you live in a drought-prone state, you know what I'm talking about! California, Texas, Nevada, Colorado all promote xeriscaping. New Mexico has an actual Xeriscape Council. Yes! Go home-state Land of Enchantment!!!

Wanna see what it looks like? I took a walk yesterday through my Arizona neighborhood and this is a sampling of what I saw:


 

Definitely a kaleidescope of textures and colors. Exotic cactus. What is that thing in the middle? The golf course is eco-conscious as well. Those are native grasses surrounding the fairway. The photo definitely doesn't do them justice ~ they're tall and wave gently in the breeze.

 

Where are the sounds, you ask? Well, of an evening you'll hear owls and coyotes. If you could get a closeup of the saguaro (tall cactus, lower right), you'd see that the woodpeckers have tap-tap-tapped their way inside. Can't you hear the skitttering quail and the beep-beep of the roadrunner as it zooms its way across the street in the background?

 

You better keep your eyes wide-open. You wouldn't want to miss that silent, sneaky scorpion waving it's venomous tail as it approaches.  

Xeriscape. Beautiful indeed.



The Secret Keeper - Book Review

Published:  2012

It's about:  As the book opens in 1961, we are introduced to 16-year old Laurel who witnesses a crime from the vantage point of her childhood tree house.  Fifty years later, Laurel, a well-established and successful actress, is still trying to come to terms with the repercussions of what she witnessed.  As her mother (Dorothy) lays dying, Laurel searches for answers to the questions that haunt her. 

As the mystery is disentangled, we are transported to war-torn London in 1941, to the crime and the subsequent requisite secrecy in 1961, and to Laurel's desperate quest for answers in 2011.  We are riveted by the main characters: Laurel, Dorothy, Vivien and Jimmy.  We are drawn into their lives, their dreams, their disappointments, their hopes.  We have no choice -- the characters are realistically depicted and well-developed.

I thought:  As a reader, I "became" Laurel, then Dorothy, then Vivien.  What a jolt it was when I realized that I wasn't who I thought I was.  

Verdict:   ★★★★★
I loved this book. I couldn't wait to find out what would happen.  I'm usually pretty good at figuring out how the story will end.  I was stunned by the twist.

Reading Recommendation:  It's a riveting mystery novel.  You won't want to put it down.

Favorite Quotes:  “And as the train whistled its imminent departure, a small girl wearing neat plaits and someone else's shoes climbed its iron stairs. Smoke filled the platform, people waved and hollered, a stray dog ran barking through the crowds. Nobody noticed as the little girl stepped over the shadowed threshold; not even Aunt Ada, who some might've expected to be sheperherding her orphaned niece towards her uncertain future. And so, when the essence of light and life that had been Vivien Longmeyer contracted itself for safekeeping and disappeared deep inside her, the world kept moving and nobody saw it happen.” 

“... people who'd led dull and blameless lives did not give thanks for second chances.”

Rediscover a House of Joy

Forty-one years ago, in my last life (when I get around to writing a memoir, it will not be in chapters, but in "lives"), I dined at House of Joy in Jerome, Arizona.  It had opened in 1969 in a building that once housed a brothel (1912-1946) in this once-booming copper-mining town.  In 1969, Jerome was virtually a ghost town, nestled in the switchbacks of the hillside overlooking Camp Verde, and a two hour drive from Phoenix.  John did the cooking and Conde Nast named it one of the top 100 restaurants in the U.S.   So, after booking a reservation many weeks in advance for one of the four or five tables at House of Joy, I experienced the best cuisine of my life - ever! 

Last Sunday, I decided to take Marisa to Jerome to experience the magnificence of a meal at House of Joy. 

And there it was, exactly as I remembered it.  Except, it wasn't. 

It was no longer a restaurant.  It had been re-born as a rather campy gift shop.  If you're in the market for a corset, or fish-net stockings, or a belly dancer's bangled belt, here is where you'll find it. 

Disappointment turned into surprise as I learned that John and Mary still own the shop.  Misfortune befell about 14 years ago.  John, an avid bicyclist, had a life-threatening accident.  Doctors predicted that he would never walk again.  So the restaurant was closed and re-opened as a gift shop.

Mary runs the shop.  I purchased a trinket or two and she beamed as I told her that I had yet to experience an escargot any tastier than that which John had prepared in 1972.  

Marisa stepped outside while I chatted with Mary.  When I joined her, she was deep in conversation with ... none other than 91-year old John.

He is indescribable!  He clearly proved the doctors wrong.  He rides his bicycle down the mountain, 25 miles to Sedona, and 25 miles back.  Yes, he rides not walks, up the mountain.  Every day.

He revels in his new role as the town character.  He told us that Mary keeps him out of the shop and away from shoppers.  And no wonder!  To say that most of his conversation bordered on the politically incorrect would be an understatement.  He invited Marisa to call ahead next time she was planning a visit to Jerome and he'd bake her some muffins.   In spite of - or maybe because of - his colorful peersonality, she accepted. 

Jerome is no longer a ghost town.  Knit 1 Bead 2 inspired a knitted shawl.  I've started it already.  The artistry of the felted hats, scarves and wraps at Roberge & Day emboldened me to try my hand at felting raw fibers.  I'll need to take a class first.  The Mexican food at Quince was delicious.  The accommodations, the inn-keeper, and the view from our master suite at the Surgeon's House were excellent. 














Nothing, however, could compare to rediscovering House of Joy.

Spring is the perfect time to begin

Arizona is absolutely where I should be this time of year. The earth is radiating heat. You can feel the warmth through your shoes. You can feel the sunshine on your face. The cacti are blooming; the birds are chirping; the rabbits are scurrying; the quail are racing across the street. Oh! And the golf balls are once again missing the fairway and finding their way into our yard. 

 

In honor of the season - and since Lexi and Emma were leaving to spend Spring Break with their Dad - we decided to have a Peeps Party. For days we gathered our supplies: Peeps and more Peeps: yellow, hot pink, light pink, yellow, purple, and blue Peeps. We visited Lowes and gathered our favorite spring-color paint chips. We found speckled jelly beans at Target; push-pop forms at Michael's. We traced and cut and arranged. 

 

   

Emma created this pretty little centerpiece for our Peeps Party. 

 

 

 

Lexi cut the bunny Peeps from paint chips, strung them on a pink ribbon and hung them across the window.  Rick got in on the action by helping us get just the right shade of green for the pudding layers in the push pops.  He especially enjoyed the chocolate-covered pretzel nests. 

 

 

Jaclyn joined the fun from St. Louis, by contributing this racecar Peep idea.

 

Did I mention that I don't like Peeps?  But Marisa does!  She took home dozens of leftover Peeps.  I have it on good authority they're hidden within easy reach in case hunger strikes at midnight.  She'll be on a sugar-high for weeks.

 

So there you have it.  Spring and my new blog have arrived.  Let's see where they take us.