JUST LOOKING



SWMBO got this picture of Blackwell, peering out the back window this morning.

Jazz would jump clear up on the window sill to perch.

Muggles couldn't care less.

But Blackwell got past me yesterday evening, in spite of a glancing kick to his head.  He came to us from the outer world but after being neutered and, on more than one occasion, taking advantage of being let out with us by going over a six foot fence to "explore" . . we have successfully kept him in the house.  But last night, he escaped.  Spring hormones, maybe.  Well, he spent about an hour outside before he came home and was coaxed in the front door, partially by Jazz whining and snarling at him.

He wants to go out.  But we don't trust him.  He got horribly hurt when he was a kitten and lived outdoors and I (and my bank account) just don't want that again.  Granted, he is a much bigger cat now and probably could handle himself.  But, there are cars and occasionally coyotes and javelinas and skunks and so . . . he stays inside.

But we let him look.  And dream.

APRIL SHOWERS - MAY FLOWERS

That's how it looked a few days ago as rain showers moved in for a day.

Here's what it produced.

Those are called mock roses and they are the first to bloom.

The last three are called Firecracker Roses.

I think you can see why.



SO WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?



JEROME ODDITIES

Jerome, Arizona, only about 15 miles from me geographically is a thousand light years from where I live in attitude.  It has been everything from a booming mining town with a population of 15,000 to a ghost town with a population of around 150.  Then the hippies came, finding cheap if not free housing.  Then artists.  Then retirees.

Currently Jerome is what many would call a tourist trap.  Dozens of art galleries and gift shops fill the town.  Real estate, which was dirt cheap when I first saw Jerome, is now expensive.  Because of underground blasting, the town on the side of a mountain lives on somewhat fragile ground.  If one buys an old house one finds it costs a lot to shore up the house with concrete.

But it's a great place with views to die for.  I love visiting it even on a Tuesday in April when the streets were jammed with tourists.

But, as I said at the beginning of this post, the town is thousands of light years from here, because of an apparent attitude of whimsy in the air.  Let me give you a couple of examples.

I have to give credit to my friend Judy, who takes and posts some amazing photographs at Prescott Area Daily Photo, including regular photos of these flamingos.  Whoever has adopted the roadside pink plastic birds decorates them regularly for holidays and special days.

Directly across the road is this mystery.

Some time in the distant past someone created this hillside parking space.  That old truck has been parked there behind iron bars for as long as I remember.  I don't know the story but perhaps someone who knows it will reveal the secret of the truck and it's owner.

A DAY AT THE PARK

My birthday - Day Two.

I drove to Phoenix yesterday and went to an Arizona Diamondbacks game, courtesy of my old pal, Steve.  Unfortunately our team lost to the Philadelphia Phillies but we did get to see a great pitching performance by Cole Hamel and an ESPN-highlights play where a ball got away from the catcher and he apparently didn't realize the baserunner on first base was circling the bases.  When he did realize it, he threw him out at home as the runner was trying to score.

Anyway, not too many Dbacks highlights but apparently one was happening as I caught Steve grinning broadly.



Here's a short video of one of my favorite guys at the ballpark.  Turn your sound up.

This guy is famous for his loud chant "Ice cold lemonade, just like your grandma made!"  Unfortunately, I guess he hasn't worked out such a chant for cotton candy.

Meantime, outside, you get the feeling of the size of this parking garage and, in fact, all of the structures in downtown Phoenix.

That guy pictured in full swing on the poster is none other than the (now retired) hero of the Diamondbacks, Luis "Gonzo" Gonzalez.  Probably the most beloved former player.



Finally, as I was leaving the area, who should I run into but some of the Diamondbacks girls, who were gracious enough to pose for me.

With that, my day at the ballpark ended on a perfect note, even if my team did lose.

CELEBRATION AT THE ASYLUM

Yesterday, my beloved SWMBO took me to Jerome, to the historic Jerome Grand Hotel, to the Asylum restaurant to celebrate my birthday.  The building apparently once housed a mental asylum, thus the name of the restaurant.

It's got great ambiance, sitting in a majestic old building on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Verde Valley of Arizona.  The red rocks of Sedona are clearly visible in the distance.

But let's get a closer view.  Dirty martinis.

Then, since it was mid-day, from the lunch menu, we both chose hot pastrami sandwiches and french fries.

The pastrami was marvelous, just the way I like it.  Also swiss cheese and grilled bermuda onions with a dash of mayonnaise.  The sandwiches were delicious.


Not to mention the fries.  Apologies to one of my readers but there was no puddle of ketchup with these.  SWMBO had some but just salt on mine were very tasty.


An Argentine Malbec wine from Mendoza was the perfect accompaniment.  $8.00 a glass seemed like a bargain to me.

Then on to dessert.  For me a creme brule cheesecake with blackberries and lots of whipped cream.

For SWMBO, perhaps a mistake.  A Chocolate Mousse Cake, which was too rich for her although I liked it.

The Asylum covers their very nice tablecloths with white butcher paper and provides a jar of color crayons, then invites you to scrawl on the paper.  This is the work of SWMBO.

Over the years, we have gone out for a meal to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries and holidays.  Invariable it seems that I am disappointed . . with the food, the service, the ambiance, or whatever.  This time everything was perfection.  As I said we had been to the Asylum before, several times.  But as I was leaving, I asked our excellent waiter, Dan, if there had been an ownership or management change in the past year.  He said absolutely not.

In which case, they have ironed out some changes, hired excellent people, inspired the kitchen and made this one of the truly fine restaurants of Northern Arizona.

The Asylum.  If you get to these parts, visit it.

BIRTH DAY

It is said you can tell a person's "real" age by looking at their hands and/or their neck.  Botox et al can keep the face looking young long after it's time comes to age.  But wrinkles and liver spots in the hands and the neck tell the true story.

That's my left hand this morning.

And there's my all-important right hand, the "mouse" hand.  Granted, it's held up off the table but the wrinkles do tell the tale.

My birthmates - Barbra Streisand (70 today) and Shirley MacLaine (78 today) both look pretty good, to my eyes.  Happy birthday to both of them.

Today is my 73rd birthday, though I am only 72 years old.  My grandfather used to say the day you were born was your first birthday, hence the distinction.  When I mention that to my friend, Steve, he always says "Oh, yeah, you count them like the Chinese."

At any rate, today is my birthday and SWMBO is taking me to lunch at a perhaps appropriate restaurant in Jerome, Arizona.  It's called "The Asylum."