It was my uttermost pleasure to spend a couple of days with the Watson clan in Tucson this past weekend. Before I head out on the trail tomorrow morning, I wanted to post a few pictures and give a large global shout-out to Jaren and Charity in thanks for a time well had. (And I've got a black pair of glasses as well, so I'll pick up that red pair in a few weeks. And Charity, I'm still destroyed from Dancer in the Dark. Sharon, I finally saw it. Destroyed. Demolished. Punched in the vocal chord. Stabbed with a tipless ice pick. Forced to drink the sacrificial blood of cocker spaniel puppies. After the credits rolled, Charity stayed up a few extra minutes with me in the 3 a.m. darkness and talked me through the aftermath. But this is a different post.)
Here's some pictures of the night hike the Watsons took me on the night before I left. What isn't included are pictures of the three coyotes Jaren almost ran over in his car, and neither is the snake that he really really really really wanted to see and that we actually never saw. He did find a stick that looked pretty snake-like...Charity and I both agree it probably was a snake before Moses took care of it.
Actually, the first picture is of a Sonoran Hot Dog. Hot damn but I haven't had such a beast of a meal in a bun before. Yea, verily verily, for I have said, a bacon-wrapped dog covered in beans and tomatoes and Mexican dip held gently in a soft sweet bun brings me to tears of delicious gratitude. I had two that day, and I'll have two hundred more before I die. God bless the Sonoran hot dog and God bless the Watsons for introducing it into my culinary culture.
These pictures of the night hike aren't the greatest. I didn't major in photography. So before you know-it-alls snub me for my poor taste in camera option or how much or how little flash I used, I actually like the ghostliness of these scenes and figure it's as good as I can do for now.
The Watson Clan children are pretty adorable. The youngest doesn't warm up easy to strangers and it is with sheer pride and gloating that I can boast how she began calling me "Grandma" by the time I left. Although, for future notice Amelia, I'd rather be referred to as your Aunt. No offense to Grandmas all around, including you Mrs. Norris. I'm just saying. I'm still a virgin. No virgin is ever really ready to be called a Grandma. I'm just saying.
These spiders were everywhere, with great beautiful webs that defy all my strongest grasps on mathematics and geometrical equations. I don't know but that spiders are extremely brilliant perfectionists. They're like Asians and Chinese characters...I'm not racist, I'm serious. You can always tell when an American is writing kanji, I don't care how many times you've seen The Karate Kid. There's a gene being spread about over there that reeks of precision and nimble, accurate fingers. I think in the future, we'll be able to harness this power from the DNA of spiders. Squares will be squares, A's will look like A's. We'll all be able to write a "g" so it looks like the "g" those old typewriters used to spit out. The one that looks like a figure 8 with an apple stem. The kind of "g" I am using in my blog to describe "g". I bet a spider could figure that one out real easy, if it wanted to.
Unfortunately, we gawked for too long and our spider friend decided having his web in broad headlamplight in front of these jokers wasn't going to get him any grub, so he began to swiftly tear his crib down. We felt bad, though at the same time, the process was beautiful. His handle on gravity and balance was impressive.
The kids finally started nodding off, and were all but asleep as we made our way back to the car (let me add here to getting the van into the parking lot was a feat on all itself.....I'll just say it involved two of us stepping down on tire-piercing spikes to get it through the exit side of the parking area. Hmm, I suppose that's actually all there was to that story. It seemed much more exciting at the time. Like Paul Newman sawing the heads off parking meters or something).
And ten minutes after this picture was taken.....
And this last picture is just to prove that I really was also there.
Thanks again Jaren and Charity for a time well spent. I'm excited to come down again soon, in the meantime, I found an apartment of girls to jump into and I hope I'm making the right decision. I feel I'll be more social, though the family I'm staying with claims I won't be able to practice the same sacrifices that would prepare me for family living. You all know I'm not in this place to be occupationally single for the rest of my life, right? I yearn for a family living. Don't I? Am I really subconsciously holding onto a wanderlust nomad selfish free spirit existence? Is this why I don't call Paul from Institute back even though he declared Official Crushdom on me a week ago? No, damn it. I didn't call him back because he freaked me out by confessing a great crush before he knew my name. Where are all the normal people and will I fit in when I find them. Question mark. Things to ponder whilst I be on the trail. Better to live with three single girls than someone else's family at my age, isn't it? Isn't it? Me oh my, the indecisions still fly. Somebody buy me a magic 8 ball for crying out loud.
