Taking on a Big Project...or Not.

It’s been more than a month since I arrived in Tucson but I haven’t written a word in this journal. It isn’t that I haven’t thought of writing, it’s just because I’ve been too busy. For one thing, when I arrived the back yard was strewn with large, flat rocks. The idea was that we should figure out how to arrange the rocks and create a walkway connecting our three houses and a patio from them.

Dennis took one look at the rocks and announced that it would take us all winter, if not longer. We immediately decided this was a job for professionals. Luckily our neighbors recommended a good company that gave us a reasonable bid and started the next week!

The yard had been graded, so the crew wasn’t starting from scratch. The first day they raked and pounded the earth with a big machine that compacted the soil. Thump, thump, thump went on all day, shaking my bones.

Stone-laying began the next day and by the end of two days, the two-man (and sometimes four-man) crew had made good progress. The big house is on the left and our Casita A is on the right.

Soon the master craftsman announced that we needed more stone. The supplement arrived the next day, joining the sand heap and the filler* heap on our driveway.

These stones are massive, the large ones taking two men to position them. No wonder the stone-layers wear not only knee pads, but also trusses to protect their backs!

Layering sand as a bed, adding each stone, trimming the stone to fit, leveling and pounding the stone has to be done on one’s knees. Then the filler between the stones must be added, compacted, and wet down, again on one’s knees.

In just nine days the job was done and the happy homeowners, Grant and Blair, were sitting on our new patio. Now we can get on with life.

*We went to a rock merchant to buy the filler, which is a ground-up type of stone that hardens when it is wet down. The workmen did this using a hose, but each additional rain hardens the filler more.

Copyright 2017 by Shirley Domer

Paradox

Our trip back to Kansas was interesting and dull, painful and relaxing, tiring and relaxing – a paradoxical trip in these and other unexpected ways.

Range after range of mountains appeared along I-10, then disappeared behind us as yet another (or two or three) came into view. The affection I had acquired for this basin and range landscape came as a surprise to me as the ranges appeared farther and farther apart.

Eventually the mountain ranges became wooded hills and the desert flora changed from ocotillo and cacti to scrubby cedars.

After an overnight visit in Albuquerque with Jim, we headed east toward Tucumcari, a town of abandoned motels, gas stations, and other deserted, collapsing buildings. When we crossed into the Texas panhandle the outlook became even more depressing because of vast, reeking cattle feed lots and fields ornamented with huge irrigation mechanisms sucking the last drops from the ever-shrinking Oglalla Aquifer. I couldn’t bear to photograph what we were seeing.

At last we crossed into southwestern Kansas where we came upon the green fields of wheat my eyes were so hungry to see again.

At last we pulled into our driveway and my heart sang to find sweet William (wild phlox) and pink tulips blooming in our little memorial to friends who have passed on.

Traveling with an injured foot, I had spent a lot of time with it propped on the dashboard, which resulted in a painful crick in my neck that lasted three weeks after we arrived home.

So, here we are, weeks later, cataract surgery behind me, crick in the neck gone, rain several times a week, and green all around me. As much as I love the wooded scenes surrounding our Kansas home, I’d love to look out the window and see Tucson’s Santa Catalina Mountains aglow in the setting sun.

Life is, indeed, a paradox.

Copyright 2017 by Shirley Domer

Leaving Already?

A busy life makes time fly, and that’s what happened to me this winter. I can hardly believe it’s already time to go back to our Kansas home, but here we are, cleaning out the refrigerator and gathering things we need to take back with us, including jars of the orange marmalade we made.

I will miss watching our little raise bed garden grow. The spring greens are all gone, having been replaced by tomatoes, carrots, peppers, and some transplanted squash. The squash isn’t recovering from being transplanted and will have to be replaced by others that sprung up from the compost pile. Grant and Blair put in an automatic sprinkling system since we won't be here to do the watering.

I would love to be here this summer to look out our kitchen window, watching this year’s crop of pomegranates mature. They are just now blooming and their fruit won’t mature until next November. The outermost layer of the blossom gradually will curve back to become the characteristic points at the end of the fruit. Wouldn’t it be fun to watch a pomegranate develop? 

For sure I’ll miss going to La Estrella Bakery in Tucson’s Mercado for the best puff pastry I’ve ever eaten. (I’ll admit that puff pastry isn’t the most healthful diet for an octogenarian.) I’ll miss seeing sunlight and shadow play on the mountain ranges that surround Tucson. Oh, and I'll miss the Sunday afternoon band sessions at Badlands, a microbrewery.

Most of all, though, I’ll miss sharing daily life with our grandson and his bride. I’ll especially miss the lively conversation at our evening meals and knowing that more than one person has my back in times of trouble.

The up side of leaving is that all of these pleasures will be waiting when we return to the land of saguaros next fall.

Copyright 2017 by Shirley Domer

An Accident

It was a beautiful Sunday morning to visit San Xavier del Bac, a mission established in 1692 on the Tohono O’odham reservation. A magnificent white building, it can be seen from miles away, and is called Dove of the Desert. Nancy and Cleo had arrived the day before and we were eager to show them some of Tucson’s wonders. Cleo and I took photos from this angle.

After a fry bread lunch at the little café in the mission plaza, we moved on to the Desert Museum. That’s when the day turned sour.  My foot tangled with a chair leg and I fell to my knees. Although one knee was skinned a bit, the real damage was to my foot, which was badly sprained.

From then on, I was confined to this shiny mechanism.

That was the down side. The up side is that Dennis, Nancy, and Cleo attended to my every need. I quickly became terribly spoiled from being waited on and furnished with a steady supply of pastries from the Mexican bakery in the Mercado.

Five days later and Nancy and Cleo have returned to Colorado, Dennis is still babying me, and my swollen foot is slowly returning to normal. The wheelchair is stowed away and I’m walking almost normally.

This accident has taught me two important lessons. One is that I am fortunate to have a loving, caring family. The other is that accidents can be avoided if I’m always conscious of what my body is doing. It’s essential to be in the moment and not wool-gathering while in motion.

Copyright 2017 by Shirley Domer

Making Do

We came here to spend the cold winter months, so I was unprepared for temperatures soaring into the nineties. Desperate for something cool to wear, I remembered a mock turtleneck tee I had put into the charity box. My handy sewing scissors soon removed the neck just below the seam that attached it to the shirt. The first cut having been so successful, I went after the sleeves, making them three-quarter instead of long.

The results were so pleasing that I’ve kept wearing it, even though my summer wardrobe has been replenished. The shirt has been washed several times and still looks fine.

Emboldened by success, I finished altering an old tie-dye shirt that was cut too low for an old woman to be seen in. I had salvaged a lace panel from a worn out undershirt and Mimi had basted it in place for me. All I had to do was fire up the sewing machine. That project turned out nicely, too.

These alterations call to mind the old expression “making do.” It means, of course, that we do the best we can with what we have. Sometimes making do turns out something pleasing and comfortable. Making do is always worth a try.

Copyright 2017 by Shirley Domer