DINING OUT

At the invitation of the BRD, we went out for a Sunday brunch meal today.

We chose one of our favorite restaurants, the Plaza Bonita in Prescott.

The name translates to Pretty Square.

And it is a pretty place, indeed.

It's a Mexican restaurant with a huge menu, shown here..

(Note to those of a political bent: that's huge, not YUUUGE!!!)

We like the restaurant for it's gaily carved and painted furniture, shown here in a fuzzy picture (sorry).

Tabletops are also a thing of beauty.

If they weren't laquered, you might think that's too pretty to eat off of, wouldn't you?

Nevertheless we paid tribute to Mexico's cuisine, including its beer and margaritas.

Now, maybe, for that nap as a storm of rain and snow begins to move in.

A LITTLE CULTURE

SWMBO and I joined a crowd of people at the Prescott Valley Library Auditorium this afternoon for an hour-long classical guitar concert.

The performer was Terrence Shrader, who is the Music Director at the Orme School of Arizona in nearby Mayer.

The Gary, Indiana native and graduate of Indiana University played selections from Bach, and Cuban and Argentine composers among others.

As you can see in the foreground of this picture there was a lot of grey hair in the audience, including ours.

Nevertheless the listeners were attentive and responsive.

Shrader did hit a few clinkers and joked at the end of the concert "maybe I'll come back sometime and play some of the notes I missed today."

But his performance was appreciated by the crowd.

Nice afternoon.

FRIDAY FUNNIES

I was just checking with the Weather Gods and saw that our high temperature today will be close to 70 degrees.

Then on Monday it's forecast to be 38 with occasional snow showers.

What the heck is that?

Oh well let us move right along to the humor corridor and check on the presidential contest with our favorite bozo candidate.

With Trump petulantly down the street last night the other candidates at the debate had to fight amongst themselves.

At least our neighbors to the North have an answer.

For any of you Gentle Readers who may disagree with my political views, I offer this.

And this . . .

All right. Enough.

My sense of humor this week seems to have a bitter edge to it.

Have a simply FAB-ulous weekend, Gentle Readers, and keep a big silly smile on your faces.

Here, kitty-kitty.

THROWBACK THURSDAY

Back in 1974 (Gadfrey, was that really more than 40 years ago???) I was a 30-something television news reporter in Phoenix.

One day a prison guard . . well nowadays we call them detention officers . . was overpowered by inmates at the Federal Detention Center in Florence, Arizona, and taken prisoner.

I have no memory what their complaint was at the time but after holding the officer for some time, he was released.

I had drawn the short straw and was at the scene trying to cover the story.

When the guard was freed, I was given the opportunity to interview him.

He looked about as happy to meet me as he had been to be captured by the inmates.

And it was a look I saw time after time over the years, frequently from lawmen.

Of course in modern times they are more than happy to hold a news conference for dozens of reporters and television cameras.

You might also note the 1970's-ish equipment I was working with - a microphone with a long cord that went to the photographer's equipment and a boxy tape recorder for my editing purposes later.

Like the comparisons between wall telephones, huge computers and box cameras with today's smart phones, we've come a long way.

The long hair and mutton chops on your heroic newsman are long gone too.

WOEBEGONE WEDNESDAY

I posted yesterday a photo of days gone by when I used to climb around on rocks.

SWMBO can tell you, and we have the pictures to prove it, that I was known for going to the edge of precipices, clambering around on boulders in streams, taking chances on my footing.

But those days are gone as I approach the end of my 75th year on the planet.

My knees aren't as flexible as they once were.

My balance isn't near what it once was.

So after a couple of slightly scary incidents in recent years, I've taken to doing whatever outdoor activity is on my agenda with a hiking stick.

I stick to the trail system in our development.

They call them "trails".

For the most part I call them "sidewalks".

Occasionally I walk down to this small park a short distance from where I live.

It's not much.

Just a circle of grass and on this particular day it was looking gloomy under cloudy skies.

But it does have an advantage I never would have thought of in my more physical days: several park benches to rest on.

Several of my Gentle Readers commented yesterday on their own difficulties with age.

Tom, in California, says he sticks to trails nowadays as his knees and ankles seem more tenuous.

Steve, in Germany, said heights never bothered him when he was younger but now they do.

It seems that we're all growing not just older but actually "old".

I was thinking about this after I woke this morning but was still clinging to the warmth of bed and the futile hope that I might go back to sleep.

Oh well. I still have my window next to my desk and I can still watch my birds as they come to the bird bath and the tree above it.

This little goldfinch, if that's what it is, seemed to be warming himself in the sun of a brighter day recently.

Newcomers here think winter is over as the temperature rises into the 60's.

But those of us who have lived here for awhile know that Old Man Winter can surprise us over the next couple of months.

The day SWMBO and I opened our bookstore, back in 1996 after a very mild winter, a snowstorm dumped several inches on us.

That was in the first week of March.

I had envisioned a nice day snuggled down amidst my books welcoming eager customers.

Instead I spent much of the day shoveling the sidewalk in front of the store and we took in less than 30 dollars.

Nowadays, I'd hire some kids to do the shoveling and it would probably cost me $30.

So it goes.

TUESDAY TRAVELS

Does this fuzzy picture of your hero appear to show him somewhat perturbed?

Could be.

Why you ask?

Because while climbing around in the Granite Dells of Prescott, Arizona, he got himself stranded in the rocks.

Not really.

I did get down okay but I don't do that anymore.

MONDAY MOURNING

Carolina Panthers 49

Arizona Cardinals 15