Dreams, Moments, Travels
These are not really patio flowers. This was not meant to be some poor April Fool’s joke either. It is just that these blooms are from a cactus that lives on our balcony and Caroline nor I know what kind of cactus it is. I have featured this cactus blooming before, twice I think, but no one else has offered up the name of the species, so here are two patio flowers until we know better.
It’s not a cactus, it is a succulent – well it looks like a cactus to me. Not the flower, of course, I know what a flower looks like, although on second thought this doesn’t much look like a flower – besides its bright colors. From the Aloe vera plant comes this springtime bloom. While not native of Arizona, the Aloe vera grows wonderfully here in our desert climate and as always, anything that adds color to our brown environment is a welcome addition.
Family is like chard: colorful, bright, and fluffy. Wrong, family is like wilted chard that has lost some of its appeal but it’s yours, so you deal with it. Come on, family is not like a vegetable at all; they are like ruminants chewing on old memories and passing a lot of gas. Just kidding, family are not like ruminants; they are like…
No, they are not like an assortment of berries.
Obviously, after the Santa Barbara routine, we stopped at the nearby farmers market, did some shopping, and then drove away from the sunset. This was looking back from where we came.
This is what happens when you have a bad head for names; on the left is Boyd. My uncle Woody is obviously in the middle, but I have no recollection of the guy’s name on the right. This is embarrassing.
It’s not very often I’m surprised, especially when it’s still 11 days before my birthday.
For the occasion of my upcoming 44th year, my aunt Ann and uncle Woody with their friend Boyd, brought out a cake on our visit to Santa Barbara this weekend.
It’s been since Christmas when we took my mother-in-law Jutta over to Santa Barbara since we last saw Uncle Woody and Tata, and now feeling a bit recovered from all the travel we did with her, it’s time to drive ourselves the 507 miles over to their front door.
In six days spring will officially be here. Today it was more like summer and the weekend promises more record-breaking high temperatures. We almost hit 100 degrees here in Phoenix, 99 though was a surefire record – and it is still winter (smack my forehead). I, unlike the flowers, am wilting from the early bake. I do not look forward to the hell this summer is sure to deliver.