And in the category of: WTF?

I give you the following exchange between R. and myself, which took place in the car on Monday, driving home from the disgustingly-hot low desert…

R.: I could live there.

SB: Huh?

R.: I could live there, on that hill.

SB: What hill?

R.: THAT hill. That elegantly-shaped hill.

SB: [Still not sure what he’s talking about] You mean THAT hill? That thing stuck out in the middle of nowhere?

R.: Yeah, that lovely, lava-rock, black hill, in all its isolated splendor.

SB: [Choking] You have GOT to be on drugs.

R.: No. Why? Whaddya mean? [Pause] I LIKE that hill. It’s a great hill.

SB: It’s tiny. It’s like a pinpoint of a hill.

R.: That’s why I like it. It’s elegantly-shaped.

SB: Whaaahh? Elegantly-whaaahhh? If you stepped outside your door, you’d plunge 100 feet into sharp malpais rock. It’s unliveable.

R.: I could take a helicopter in. Land on my roof.

SB: Key word here being “my.” YOUR roof. YOUR house. Not mine.

R.: Why are you snapping pictures of it if you hate it so much?

SB: [Snort] Are you kidding? I can already see the post’s title now: “And in the category of: WTF?”

R.: Well, if you’re going to blog about it, then I’m going to say something quotable…

SB: [Thought bubble only: “like you haven’t said plenty already?”]

R.: It’s shaped like a scoop of Hagen Daz ice cream.

A Day of Firsts…

So, we got back to the ranch on Monday afternoon from California. On Tuesday, I spent the day in Little Cowboy City at the pediatrician’s, trying to figure out why The Bee has a rash all over her face. Our pediatrician doesn’t think it’s food allergies, although she took us off all dairy and eggs for a full month, just to be sure. Somehow, someway, The Bee has eczema on her face and ears, so it’s a Cortaid week.

On Wednesday, R. had his first-ever colonoscopy scheduled. For some reason I can’t figure out, these are conducted several mountain ranges/valleys over, in a town not particularly known for its stellar medical care. It takes two hours to get there. We dropped Papa off, and then The Bee and I made for the Old Town section of this alter-valley town, where it was 102 in the shade…but there WAS shade. We strolled the downtown arcade:

And there was grass. Oh, yes, glorious grass. About 200 square feet of it, under a locust tree. Beautifully groomed, kelly-green, verdant grass.

We came unshorn. There she was for the first time, barefoot in summertime, on luxurious, glorious grass…The Bee was, um, a bit confused. Here are some still shots of her initial amusement, as she stared at her feet with not just a little perplexity:

And, if this works, a little motion picture of said experience–please note that these videos were taken with my very ordinary digital camera, not with a camcorder, so I apologize for the lack of picture quality:

After the procedure was over (and R. declared colon-fit), we went up to the old-time mining town on the side of the mountain. I like to call it stilt-town, ’cause it’s literally hanging by its shakey moorings on the side of a hill, with incredible views of red rock country in the distance–and note the sacred peaks in the very distance of this image:

We ate at a stilt-supported burger joint, and then headed to the playground, for The Bee’s first swing experience. Here is the still:

Here is the motion (assuming this works–I’m just copying and pasting the embedding code from YouTube, but it didn’t work for me in China, so I’m not sure this will work here…):

If it does work, enjoy!

The Rain In Spain Falls Mostly On the Plain…

Oh my lordie, I am so BEHIND in my postings, but the BIG NEWS is that the MONSOON IS HERE! So the official date is July 16th–I don’t think anyone chose that day, but please correct me if I’m wrong about that! We arrived home from the palm tree farm on Monday afternoon to the rains…here is the blow-by-blow of our arrival…

first, we are still in the low desert, it’s 105 degrees, but you can see up to the rim country where we live and it’s very, very dark…full of dark clouds of monsoon. I’d know that sky anywhere…

There is a steep grade that takes about 10 minutes to climb, and equals about 1,800 feet in altitude, and the temperature fell to 80 degrees at the top…anyone ever heard that Crowded House song, “Four Seasons in One Day”? Yeah, baby!

The next shot is a picture of Black Mountain, in whose shadow sits the ranch. This is the mountain I fell in love with when we were searching for places to move. I am a bit sheepish to admit that it reminded me of the Scottish highlands…a wee bit acultural of me.

About 1/2 hour after our arrival home, the skies opened up, and we ended up with 1/2 inch of rain. In the nearby Little Cowboy City, they had 3 inches of rain, but that’s what another 1,000 feet of altitude will do for you. Here’s the now-famous shot from our front porch:

Of course, it’s now Thursday, and it hasn’t rained since Monday, but we’re still definitely in Monsoon Season–it’s only about 95 degrees, instead of 105, and the clouds are built in. We just need to bully past this giant suckhole that is The Tiny Desert Cowtown Where I Live and move in some more moisture. Also, we are on the hunt for rainbows…The Bee learned to sign rainbow this week, and I am dying to show her the real thing.

More posts to come:

+on yesterday, a day of firsts for The Bee: first green pepper; first mushroom; first walk barefoot in the grass; first swing; first slide. (Which brings up another point: can someone who knows how to embed a video in Wordpress, please tell me what the secret code is???? PLEASE? I have video I’d like to share.)

+on the meeting with the grandparents last weekend…

+on the general despair of the really low desert (117 degrees in the shade, people…)

+on my beloved hubby’s weird obsession with living on top of a slogheap of a hill in the middle of nowhere in the godeffingawful desert…

+on lactose intolerance…and soy…and eggs…and maybe blueberries and strawberries, too…

+on the impending trip back east to meet the OTHER grandparents, on an airplane, next week…

stay tuned….

Why I should keep my kitchen floor cleaner than I do…

because little girls might choose to eat-in-place. By the way, my floor tile is that funky ‘disguise-a-dirt’ color…it’s bad, but it’s not quite THAT bad.

So, we’re finally off to the low desert for a long weekend of meeting grandparents, swimming in the big pool, dodging rattlesnakes, and running from A/C venue to A/C venue…

MONSOON TRACK:

No rains yet. ‘Nuff said.

To Rain or Not To Rain…and what constitutes “rain” anyhow?

So, I have been a bit remiss in my monsoon wait coverage. Here is Monday’s update on the cloud track:

We spent Monday with almost NO clouds in the sky:

It was seriously depressing, and I didn’t want to blog about it. There were a few bumpers to the northeast, over the lovely Granite Mountain–

but nada where we were or off to the east (from whence we get our rain usually). And the humidity sunk below 20%, another magic number in monsoon prediction (thanks, Omega Mom, for reminding me!)–it was 18% on Monday. Then, I walked out on the front porch just before dinner and sundown, at about 7:30 PM and saw this:

I couldn’t believe it! Thunderclouds and high clouds moving in. We had a wonderfully subtle, conch-shell-pink sunset, courtesy of the late-forming clouds:

Yesterday, Tuesday, we woke up to haze and high clouds. We didn’t bother to do our usual Tuesday wading-pool time because there really wasn’t sunshine making us feel like it was a pool-worthy day…humidity was at 20% again! Good signs.

We went about our indoor day. Long after The Bee had gone to bed, when I was trying to take in some mindless TV, I heard R. shouting from the front door…it was a quarter to midnight, and IT WAS RAINING. Well, I’m not sure really if it was raining raining, but there were some drops falling from the sky:

I saw maybe thirty drops total? Does that count? R. and I went out and stood in the driveway. It promptly slowed to a stop. You could only see any wet on the rocks. But, on the other hand, this is more moisture than we’ve had at the ranch since January 31st. So, I think Maia guessed the 10th, and–with 15 minutes to spare in my time zone–it DID “rain” on the 10th. Sort of.

I guess I was hoping the monsoon would start with a deluge, so there would be no gray areas. But there WAS that incredible monsoon SMELL. It’s so sharp and pungent, acrid even, like your tongue’s resting on metal. It is NOT that earthy wet smell you sometimes get in the eastern woods, that peaty smell. Nope. It’s tinny, and not heavy, but rather disappears on your tongue and in your nose with a pull–you know how a really dry wine does? Except not wine. It’s more like if you stuffed your mouth full of granite and mica.

I’ll be sending Maia a prize for marking the rain that came on the 10th!!! But I’m also still holding the betting open (with another prize) for the No-Holds-Barred Pour.

And so I’m still waiting on the deluge. Here’s this morning’s offering from the sky:

Certainly looks hopeful.

In other news, I would not recommend keeping these two cans next to each other on your kitchen counter like I’ve been doing:

I had the unfortunate experience of dumping several heaping spoonfuls of Enfamil in my coffee this morning. Oh, will the joys of motherhood never cease.

Cloud Track…

A new development on the cloud tracking enterprise today: clouds in the morning! When one wakes up to general haze and some high clouds, one knows the monsoon can’t be far behind…we NEVER get clouds in the morning, except during monsoon (or a decent snow storm, which hasn’t happened in two winters, now…).

Check out this A.M. haze:

Here’s the view in the afternoon, with the now-regular bumpers to the east:

And–a second new development! Bumpers to the north:

We’re surrounded! Woohoo!

And guess what the dewpoint was yesterday?

55.

And guess what the dewpoint was today?

55.

ONE MORE DAY of 55, and we get to call it monsoon, even if the rain’s not here yet. Anyone want to place bets on the rain date?

R. has already taken the 15th….

Residual China.

It’s fun and a little bit odd to interact with a daughter who has had a life entirely apart from you that you know little about. Residual clues pop up from time to time, though, which let you know some things she learned early on, and not from you…

For instance, the first time I dressed The Bee in a sweater and put a shirt on her, she was able to “help” me, quite noticeably, by moving her arms back and in to the sleeves. It was such a mind-blowing moment for me–even though, intellectually, I knew it shouldn’t have been any big whoopdeedo. She’s done this before, I thought. Enough to know how to do it, what to expect. I got a little too excited. But since you know so very, very little about your daughter’s life before Metcha Day, you cling to these small snippets of information that come through to you from The Before Time.

The most surprising residual behavior–dare I say, habit?–of The Bee is her Buddhist prayer moments. She puts her hands together into the prayer sign and rocks them up and down, exactly like the pilgrims do at the Buddhist Temples. She often closes her eyes.

This isn’t the best picture of her, but I did catch her in the act on film:

Clearly, someone taught her this form of prayer in the orphanage, and it has stayed with her. I didn’t teach it to her, and she wouldn’t have picked it up at the short visit we made to the Buddhist temple when we were in China. She uses it at the most unlikely moments–not at church, for example. I love it because it preserves a piece of her culture for her, and–also–because someone in her past felt it was important for her to know this.

DAILY CLOUD TRACK:

Here’s this afternoon’s effort in the sky. I love how one day the sky is just blue, and then the next day, it’s got bumpers, and the next and the next, too. So, now I’m tracking it. I hope y’all don’t get bored with the same scene of my front gate:

No rain here, yet. But we hear that to the north and to the south, they got some. Maybe The Bee is praying for rain?

Weather Watch…

I love reading other bloggers who live in the Southwest this time of year…we’re all on high alert for rain. I think we probably sound boring with how invested we are in the weather, sort of like *new parents* talking about their kid (heh). The Monsoon (not really a true monsoon, by meteorology standards, but rather a cultural term used to describe an annual phenomenom here in July and August of heavy rains, nearly every day) arrives when the dewpoint hits 55 for three consecutive days, the clouds gather themselves into dark and husky thunderheads, and the air smells like minerals. When the first rains arrive, the boulders actually steam from the sudden cooling after months of incredibly hot days. You can see the smoke rising from them. That’s my very favorite sight of monsoon.

It’s on the way, to whit: We’ve had nothing but clear blue skies for–ever–then, all of sudden, today we had this in the sky:

So, I had to check on the last rain we had here. Here it is, on Januaryeffingthirty-first:

Yep, almost six months and not a drop. C’mon mad wetness, c’mon.

Here’s a poem I published several years back about this waiting for monsoon–it all gets just a little bit worse before it gets better:

Rain Delays

We wait like a people of false idols.
By St. John the Baptist Day in late
June, our hands flatten into shadow.
We avoid doorways—places of arrival
and two faces. Salt pools in sockets
—tiñajas—pocking the flat surface
of stones. Granite heats,
waits to smoke like a turbine,
compressed, unspun. We watch
the storm slide down the mountain,
a blanket of condolence
as it was when our mothers pulled
covers up the bed. We lose our bodies.

Hours later, the line of shade and sun
hasn’t moved. It halves
the mountain. The fear of waiting
is that the world dies before
it gets old. Sky offers padding
if only we were upside down,
we could be caught in heavy folds
of but—the conjunction of desire,
always waiting on and. But
desert ignores what it cannot forgive,
long-legged bugs dead in the drain,
the color green. Anger turns opaque,
raises its pitch in the locust wings.
In the distance, water lashes out
from a sprinkler.

My Fourth of July…(by The Bee…)

and how did you and yours spend the Fourth (if you so celebrate)?

Here’s a glimpse of mine…!

I’m standing up on the couch…

that’s right, you heard me…I’m STANDING ON THE COUCH!!!!!….

Papa and me in front of the stars and stripes…

Mama and me…

Hanging out by the pool…

Mama’s favorite recent pics of me…

and if I had a piccolo, I’d be playing a Sousa march with it…!!!!