Monthly Archives: June 2016

If Snakes Slither Through the Crack in the Cabin Door and Slide into the Red, Heart-Shaped Hot Tub, I’m Outta Here

Prospectors in the 1800s camped at Big Bug Creek in search of gold.

Prospectors in the 1800s camped at Big Bug Creek in search of gold. Giant insects attacked one group of prospectors in 1863, thus the name Big Bug Creek~as the story goes (which I read online).

“I want to go home,” I tell Jerry. “It’s creepy here. I hear monkeys outside.”

“Aw, c’mon. Have fun. I’m having fun. Be adventurous.”

It’s a little before sunset and we’re inside Cabin #4 on Big Bug Creek.

When we checked in at the front desk at the main lodge, I asked the clerk if he knew why the creek is named Big Bug Creek. I hoped he would calm my apprehensions of mammoth bugs waiting for us in our cabin.

The clerk, a sixtyish gentleman wearing gray slacks hoisted by suspenders, answered without making eye contact. “I have no idea,” he said. “We have no big bugs. Now, please read this form and sign it.”

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The Big Bugs at Big Bug Creek Better Not Touch My Coffee

This is how we cool off in Arizona.

This is how we cool off in Arizona.

I’m looking forward to Wednesday when the temperature plunges to the heavenly temperature of 111-degrees. According to our local news, Sunday’s 118 temperature is the fifth-hottest day recorded in Phoenix since the beginning of time.

With the threat of another scorching hot day predicted, Jerry and I wake as the Arizona sun makes its appearance for the proverbial crack of dawn. We hope to get some shopping done before high noon when the street’s asphalt bubbles and boils. Bubbling asphalt can be hard on the tires.

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My Refrigerator Phobia  (and other things that drive me crazy)

butter1.      Butter tray in the refrigerator. When Jerry opens the lid to the butter tray on the refrigerator door, he doesn’t close it. He leaves it hanging open as he shuts the refrigerator door. When I open the refrigerator, the lid to the open butter tray slams shut with a loud BANG. It sounds like a shotgun blast. It’s so startling that it takes me a few minutes of stunned silence to understand my refrigerator doesn’t intend harm. I realize it’s the butter tray lid slamming shut—again. The sudden blast brings on heart palpitations and a stressed feeling of refrigerator phobia that will require years of therapy. I need a Fridge-a-Phobia support group. I ask Jerry to please remember to close the butter tray when he’s done with it. He does remember for a while. Then one unsuspecting afternoon, I’ll open the refrigerator and BANG! Then I wonder, how badly do we really need butter anyway? I know, Julia Child said everything is better with butter. Julia also said to use cream when you’re afraid to use butter. Ahh, this duct tape wound tightly over, and around, and over the butter tray lid is helping me release tension already.

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Eleven things that flitted through my mind while attending my nephew’s high school graduation.

graduation3

1. Ahh, finally after finding a parking spot and hiking the parking lot and locating family members, I get to sit down at last. What a nice stadium! I’ll just glance at the 2016 Commencement Program and what!!! There must be ten thousand names on the class roster. Where’s my nephew’s name? It’s the only name I want to see. Oh! There he is way back at the very end of the program’s one hundred thousand names (I’m sure my previous estimate of ten thousand wasn’t correct). Wow, there are certainly a lot of Brittanys and Taylors in the world. I don’t see any Bronwyns. No, not one. Too bad my nephew has the name Wilson because if he was an Allen, for example, he’d be the first to get his diploma and off to the after party.

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