I normally don’t like posting photos of prepared meals as they don’t look very appealing to me. But I love photos of fresh food with all of its vibrant colors. As I sat down to a meal without Caroline (she was attending a user group meeting) this bowl of Pho from Viet Kitchen around the corner from us just looked beautiful in the late afternoon sun. I suppose this is in keeping with my appreciation of fresh food photos as most of what we see are the bean sprouts and cilantro sitting atop the steaming bowl of broth and noodles below.
Bagdad to Prescott
Some years ago, Caroline and I were on a quest to see as much of Arizona as possible. In our attempt, we kept a map, and after each trip, we took a Sharpie and drew over the roads we had traveled. That map was ultimately nearly full from corner to corner and top to bottom of markings designating the path. And so it was that this year, we retired that map and started a new one where we are attempting to retravel all of those roads that stretch across our state. We have been to Bagdad twice before, but our current map wouldn’t be complete if didn’t visit small towns like this one all over again.
On the narrow winding road out of Bagdad towards Kirkland, the rolling desert landscape changes little from corner to corner. But as the elevation increases, we are noticing a gradual change from brown to green. Then, off in the distance, we spot a rare native to the Arizona desert: the elusive desert white Rock Duck. When they sit very still, they blend in with such great stealth that one could easily pass the Rock Duck and never notice it – well, we did.
Leaving the town of Kirkland, which is actually little more than an intersection with one remaining business still functioning, called the Kirkland Bar & Steakhouse Hotel – on the National Historic Register! If Caroline hadn’t planned on meeting another fiber fanatic while in Prescott before 2:30, we would have stopped for a bite to eat in this historic building next time. Up the road, we went higher and higher.
Not far from Prescott is Skull Valley. You go to Skull Valley just because the name is cool. Who cares what you do while in Skull Valley, that doesn’t matter as you are now in Skull Valley! Maybe it would be cooler to be in Nothing, but as Nothing is no longer anything, we must now satisfy ourselves with visits to Bloody Basin and Skull Valley!
There was actually a bigger purpose to this trip besides a map line; we needed to visit Prescott for a stop in Puttin’ On The Hats. For our trip down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon, which is quickly approaching, we needed river hats. Something to shade us from the sun that wouldn’t be ruined after getting drenched. The hats would also require chin straps to prevent them from being dragged off our heads. With the best selection of hats in Arizona and us needing just about any excuse to take a road trip, it was easy to justify a circuitous 250-mile trip just to buy hats. Caroline took some time to meet with Rowena, who makes glass bead jewelry. Rowena recommended lunch at Pangea Bakery and for Caroline to dip her toe into A Good Yarn, where she could easily lose an arm and a leg, spending a small fortune on fiber. Wow, the discipline my wife had in only buying about 3 miles of weaving yarn. We drove back home at the end of the trip but not at the end of the day. Later that evening we attended an incredible performance of Rahim AlHaj, a world-renowned oud virtuoso, at the MIM.
Perseids Meteor Shower
At 11:00 p.m., we arrived near Lake Pleasant to watch the Perseids meteor shower while being attacked by a million large winged flying insects and swarms of mosquitoes. Our endurance paid off, and we saw approximately fifty or sixty meteors burning up in the atmosphere. Try as I might to capture the larger ones, it seemed my camera was always pointing in the wrong direction – even with my lens set wide at 10mm. By 1:30, I had enough smeared bug parts in my hair on my neck and arms that it was time to call it quits until November 17th, when the Leonids were to make an appearance. In this photo, if you click on it to open the larger image, you might see a tiny streak on the right of the Milky Way low on the horizon – a meteor!
Goodbye Xmas Man
A long time ago in a place far away or about thirty-five years ago in Frankfurt, Germany, Caroline Engelhardt made a Christmas ornament from yogurt containers – this is it. Or rather, was, as she felt it was time to part with this relic and forget whatever future nostalgia might be offered in maintaining possession of her handy craft, it went unceremoniously into the trash. This will stand as the only reminder that the tiny hands of a seven-year-old girl who became my wife made this little Nikolaus which we know as Santa Claus.
Back to Tucson
A quick return to Tucson for another day of shopping. On Thursday, I learned there was a one-day 4th Avenue summer sale today, Saturday. And so here we are, picking up bargains and enjoying the larger Saturday crowds covering the sidewalks and jamming stores. Our first stop was at Razors Edge, where Caroline picked up a couple of dresses and some jewelry. With the important stuff in hand, we wandered from store to store, checking out the sales. Most shops were featuring between 20% and 25% off select merchandise. Lunch was a vegetarian treat over at Lovin’ Spoonfuls a few miles away on Campbell Avenue, highly recommended – even for meatatarians like me. Back over on 4th Avenue, upon entering the Goodwill store, a guy stopped us to have his wife admire Caroline’s pirate yarn shirt from Jinx; hmmm, he looked familiar. So I ask this stranger, “Aren’t you the King?” sure enough, he is indeed the King of the Renaissance Festival held up here near Mesa every year. Great shopping, fantastic bargains, good food, and royal celebrity – another perfect day.
A Day in Tucson
With some free time available today and a tinge of boredom, the road south delivered us to Tucson. Also included in our world of possibilities this Thursday was a side trip to San Xavier Mission, maybe the Titan Missile Museum, and some other sights around Tucson; instead, we got stuck on 4th Avenue for a day of shopping. The lament for the day is the old tired song about why is there nothing like this in the Phoenix area. Mill Avenue in Tempe lost its funk long ago; the giant malls are generic corporate shells with a dozen empty stores and more people walking for exercise than shopping. But Tucson still has its funk on with small independent shops selling tattoos, platform shoes, drug paraphernalia, used clothes, new clothes, lots of Frida Khalo-inspired art and images, and beer. The fact of the matter was that we had to shop until 5:00 because it wasn’t until this hour that the Surly Wench Pub opened, and we weren’t leaving Tucson without a visit to the Wench. Good thing we made the pilgrimage because as we walked through those black doors down the wood floor to the bar, Starfish from Bikini Kill was playing, and behind us, on the lone TV high overhead, they were showing Human Centipede. There could be no doubt this was going to be the perfect endpoint to the day.