CHANGES

The part of Cottonwood, Arizona known as Old Town Cottonwood could probably better be known as New Cottonwood these days.

When we lived in a tiny apartment just a short distance out of town, it was a decaying old area full of empty buildings with a few arty types and some locals who had grown up in the area.

Now?

It's been gentrified.

I drove the 50 miles over the mountains, through a tourist-clogged Jerome, and visited it the other day.

These pictures show just a tiny part of the former village.

That big art store used to house the smaller place on the right, selling military supplies.

A building that housed a small cafe where we used to have breakfast is gone, replaced by a huge boutique hotel.

The old movie theatre is now a trendy restaurant.

There are restaurants and bars and outlets for tasting and buying products of the nearby burgeoning Verde Valley wineries.

There are art galleries and a bookstore and stores selling tourist kitsch and others selling antiques.

And what could better display the gentrification than this:

I also visited a state park that used to have some RV'ers living in it and a small stream that hosted bird watching events.

Now, it's a humongous area that stretches for miles and houses not only several RV areas but also some cabins and a big well-tended lagoon for fishing, bird-watching and just idling.

There's also a business where you can rent a horse for rides through the park.

I was amazed by the size of it and how it has grown so rapidly until I searched my memory for when we lived in the area.

I startled myself when I realized we had moved away 24 years ago!

I guess nearly a quarter of a century can make some big changes.

MY BUDDY

Dogs and their owners are frequently seen at events around town.

But seldom like this.

That little fellow seemed quite safe, comfortable and accustomed to traveling in a sling.

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

I may not be the hilarious Randy Rainbow . . .

. . . but even I can find a lot to laugh at coming out of Washington lately.

But I shall not take cheap shots today.

For today it is time for The Friday Funnies!

So now you've had your morning chuckles AND learned how to keep those darned kids off your lawn.

With that bit of wit and whimsey, I wish you would waltz wackily along the walkway to a wonderful weekend.

And always remember to keep laughing!

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

THROWBACK THURSDAY - MIGRATION

On July 1st of 1972 Judy and I, her three offspring and two cats left Indianapolis, Indiana to move to Phoenix, Arizona.

I drove a Chevrolet van towing a 16-foot U-Haul trailer.

I was followed by son Scott and daughters Gayle and Caryn in Scott's converted 1950 Dodge school bus.

(Scott had painted all the interior metal surfaces black and white; had secured an old burgundy stage curtain discarded from some school which Judy made into coverings for his dining area benches and he'd also put some bright red flocked carpeting on the floor and up some walls.  I called it The Rolling Bordello.)

Our first stop, for a lunch break, was somewhere in Illinois.

We were younger and thinner and had more hair back then and it wasn't gray.

We camped out on that trek, Judy and I sleeping in a tent; the kids occupying the bus.

Everywhere we stopped, rain fell.

The locals told us it was the first rain in many a day, week or month, so we began calling ourselves The Rainmakers.

We spent the penultimate night in cool temperatures, camped under tall pine trees at 7,000 feet in Flagstaff, Arizona.

The trip nearly over we treated ourselves to a dinner out at a nearby steakhouse.

The next day we somehow lost each other for a worrisome hour.

The first misadventure of the trip.

However we reconnected and finally got to Phoenix.

It is July 7th.

We are exhausted and it's 103 degrees.

But just before sunset it began to rain and all the locals ran outside to stand elatedly in what they tell us is the first downpour in three months.

The Rainmakers have arrived.

SOCKS

Feeling a bit cocky now that she's finally finished her novel and is about to start on the publishing journey, SWMBO asked for permission to do a guest blog today.

So, without further ado, h-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-r-e-s Judy:

SOCKS

As the weather cools down and my sandals are less desirable I've started pulling socks out of the closet.

They are mostly black so they kind of all look alike --- except when they don't.

I'm trying to figure out what mental defective did the pairing of these various "pairs" last Spring when they were put away for cooler times.

It can't have been me.  I would have never paired a short one with a long one, a fat one with a thin one, etc.

But as I pull pair after pair out each morning I curse the idiot who made such a mess of things.

There are only two people in this house.

And my husband doesn't do socks!

(grrrrr)

Spotted on a car at the Watson Lake overlook:

COLUMBUS DAY

To mark not so much Christopher Columbus, who never got to America anyway, but all of the Italians who came later and made the country their home . . . may I present a special exhibit at Saturday's Corvette Show.

An Indy car with the smiling face of Mario Andretti superimposed on it.

50 years ago, in April, I came to Indianapolis to a new job in a radio station.

A month later, at the end of May, Mario won the Indianapolis 500 race.

It was the first and last victory for him, his two sons, a nephew and a grandson at the famous auto race.

73 starts in all and no Andretti has ever won the race since Mario's victory in 1969.

No matter.  Mario is still one of the most popular race car drivers of all time.