Author Archives: Bronwyn Wilson

What You Don’t Expect at a Mexican Restaurant (or maybe you do!)

healing

Last night I sat at a booth in a Mexican restaurant with two girlfriends, whom ~ for the purposes of their protection ~ I’ll call Sunshine and Sunflower.

We chatted away, munching on tortilla chips, and laughing at our good fortune of enjoying girlfriend therapy, which is so much cheaper than other kinds of therapy. Not to mention, so much safer. (Insanity is not good for the health of others.) Besides, what professional counselor lets you chomp on tortilla chips and salsa during a counseling session? read more

The Nights I Waltzed in My Orange Muu Muu

Seated in the doctor’s lobby, I fill out the medical forms inquiring every aspect of my health history. That done, I flip through a magazine called Phoenix Home and Garden. I get lost in the pictures of gorgeous gardens with waterfalls and gurgling fountains and pergolas smothered in lush green vines. Finally, I’m called.

The doctor, a nice-looking young man who could easily moonlight as a fashion model for Esquire, glances over my forms.

“You have insomnia?”

“I had insomnia,” I say, “I’m not dealing with it now.” (Insomnia had nothing to do with the reason I was seeing the doctor. But he wanted to focus on it.) read more

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.” read more

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. read more

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. read more