Yes, we who live in the country are easily amused.
A few weeks ago as I was doing dishes, I saw one of our neighbor’s goats on the run…. with their daughters hot on it’s heels.
It was a grand chase.
And went on long enough for me to photograph it.
Don’t think goats can run?
Try chasing one.
One daughter managed to steer it closer to the outbuildings…
And viola… the take down.
Country goats.
Because city people don’t know what to do with them…
Dragons on the other hand…
Bwaahaahaa!
Good news?
Our visiting Kestrel is back…
And he brought a friend…
(Apologies for the photo quality, I was at the utter limits of my zoom lens)
They’re such pretty little things, and I enjoyed watching them fly around the yard all morning.
Until I heard a thump…
And looked out the window.
Yeah.
Not for the dove anyway.
Kestrels will be Kestrels.
But it would have been nice if he’d finished his meal and not left me the pieces and parts clean up detail…
As well as a blood stained lawn.
Okay, granted… it could be worse.
But still….
We had a bizarre late season snow storm last week and the critters were not happy.
The deer weren’t happy.
The turkeys weren’t happy.
Wasn’t nobody happy.
But there were all hungry.
Which made for wonderful backyard viewing.
I love living in the country.
Southern Maine dodged the snow bullet this winter with only a few insignificant storms here and there.
Northern Maine…?
Not so much.
Every time we got an inch?
They got a foot.
Personally, I think that kind of snow is a hoot.
Snow banks?
Yeah, baby.
That’s what I’m talkin’ about!
Snowmobile trail?
It’s there…
Somewhere.
Well, I wouldn’t go that far.
Two years ago this was our driveway –
And yes, that’s a ruler.
Ah, winter.
You make life interesting…
No, that isn’t news.
I’m an avid reader and am probably personally responsible for Jeff Bezos’s ranking on the Fortune 500.
But this book was special.
As you may know, I have a fondness for chickens.
It started years ago when our farming neighbor moved in across the street and asked us to baby chicken sit.
Matter of fact, here’s a picture of the husband trying to speak to those first chickens.
As you can see, it didn’t go well. The chickens weren’t paying attention.
Were his conversational skills severely lacking…
Or did he just not speak their language?
The chickens might have been saying all kinds of fascinating things!
Or not.
The point is we didn’t know.
And as the flocks grew larger…
We made friends…
But the language barrier was problematic.
My pathetic attempts at cooing were for naught.
Clearly the birds had something to say.
Possibly deep, philosophical things….
But we couldn’t decipher it.
Until now.
So join me on the journey.
And we’ll explore these topics.
Admit it.
There have been times you’ve wanted to chat up a chicken too.
It will be fun…
Our last meal in Sedona was a late lunch and of course, it turned out to be the best restaurant we found during our two week trip.
Yes Martin, this is a food filled post.
You’re welcome.
Perched on top of a hill, the Mariposa Grille had some great views. (Of rocks.)
Mariposa means butterfly in Spanish, and they featured prominently in the decor at this Latin themed beauty.
Views (And rocks! Did you see the rocks?) aside..
It was a large…
And rather impressive place.
I mean hey, check out that door.
It’s made of rocks!
There was live music with a Spanish guitar, and more beautiful views.
(Of rocks!)
I ordered a few Caipirinhas… the national drink of Brazil.
Just to get in the proper mood and spirit of the place.
And then on the advice of the waiter, we tried the Yuca fries.
Not to be confused with Yucca… which apparently tastes like soap… the Yuca were too die for!
To be honest, I had no idea what they were at that point.
But had I Googled this Yuca meme beforehand?
I most assuredly would have passed.
Lunch for me was the Funghi Sublime. And sublime it was.
Scottsdale Burger Battle Judges’s Choice Winner 2018 ~ Smothered in sauteed Mushrooms, finished with imported Truffle Cheese and Truffle Dijonnaise
That burger positively melted in my mouth and was expertly cooked.
My husband ordered the Senor Fish, and was not disappointed either.
Pan-Fried and Seasoned with their House Rub, Lemon-Caper Aioli, and Shredded Romaine, on a Whole Grain Bun accompanied by 3 Seed Coleslaw.
This was an upscale South American restaurant with Latin inspired cuisine, and everything was served on the most wonderful plates. (Rocks! They were made from rocks!) I wish we’d found it sooner and been able to go back for a full dinner. I’m sure it would have been marvelous.
How upscale you ask?
There was some interesting artwork hanging on the walls…
Made with some rather expensive rocks.
And they were all for sale.
Yeah.
Rocks.
Ya gotta love ’em.
But maybe not that much.
I learned a lot on our final walk around the Sedona Heritage Museum.
(I’d ask you to name this rusty piece of crap, but they beat me to it.)
I learned about tent houses.
All the comforts of home.
Not.
And if I needed any more proof that I wouldn’t have made a good settler’s wife?
That’s it right there.
I also learned about big pancakes.
Really big pancakes.
Which got me thinking…
Makes perfect sense to me.
Entering the fruit packing shed that was used when the property was a working orchard..
The husband fell in love with this old machine.
Which I admit was kind of cool.
But I also liked the funky steam punk apple peeler.
Although that first bite has got to be hard on the teeth.
The shed had a lovely old carriage.
And a short film on the history of Sedona.
There was also some fascinating info on rat urine.
Yes, rat urine.
A woefully under explored topic in most museums…
I often call my husband a pack rat, because he comes home with all sorts of trash treasure as well.
But damn. 20,000 years?
That’s some powerful pee.
And now, our final discovery.
My worst nightmare.
There was a small section on prohibition…
And yes, I may have wept.
Oh…
The horror!
This cute little building was next up on our tour of the Sedona Heritage Museum.
Admittedly it didn’t look like much upon entry.
But then the husband saw this…
And I can’t swear to it, but I think he might have orgasmed right then and there.
Me?
Because as much as I love history, including that of the old west… I despise the old Hollywood westerns. The inaccuracies, the one dimensional characters, the predictable plots? You can have them.
Yes, I know… it’s unAmerican. So sue me. But the soundtrack to my 35 year marriage has been Rio Bravo, Eldorado, and The Sons of Katie Elder. If I never see another John Wayne movie? I will die a happy woman.
But for the husband to be standing in the actual telegraph office building that was used to shoot The Angel and the Badman?
To walk where Wayne walked?
Yeah, that looks about right.
The studios made a lot of movies in Sedona back in the day, and while the husband was happily reading about the fake west….
I found an early Xerox machine from the real one.
Dare ya to print a copy of your butt on that!
And being a telegraph office, naturally there was telegraph machine.
But holy crap!
I never realized it was so expensive to send a message back then. $40 for a 10 word text? I’d be on the streets in no time flat.
And speaking of the old days…
Yes sir.
You really had to want it.
Yes, it’s the last full day of the Arizona vacation.
And to think it only took me 43 blog posts to get here.
Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the ones reading them.
Our day started in an arts and crafts gallery. Sedona is full of them and not one will allow you take pictures.
So here’s a picture.
I saw the framed blessing below and wished I knew someone who was getting married. It would have made a great gift.
Next stop was the Sedona Heritage Museum.
An unassuming little place tucked away in the canyon…
Do ya see the red rocks in the background?
Huh?
Do ya?
The husband happily strolled around outside and examined rusty things.
There were lots of them.
Including one I could identify but he couldn’t.
Name That Crap.
Go….!
The museum building itself began as a one room cabin and eventually morphed into an early settler’s ranch. It was filled with antiques original to the house, memorabilia and history of a bygone age.
Naturally they wouldn’t let you take pictures.
So here are some pictures.
Yes, that’s part of an authentic chuck wagon from the old west. A piece of tin was folded down from the back and held up by a timber. This acted as the kitchen counter for the camp cook… because really, how much space do you need to make beans?
There were numerous out buildings to tour including this one that was filled with,
Well…
Rusty crap.
But then in the back I saw…
What?
Yes.
The world’s only teal arches.
I know.
Teal arches.
Remember, you saw it here first.
Tlaquepaque – the sequel.
Trees.
They were everywhere in this quaint shopping village.
And allowed to go pretty much anywhere…
Which was environmentally friendly…
And at times, down right comical.
There was a strange bird with red peppers on it’s head…
And naked warrior women made out of metal.
Also with birds.
Tell the truth…. how many of you men actually noticed the bird?
We walked by Albert again…
And into a store that sold dinosaur poo.
Supposedly authentic… which caused my husband to snort.
Like you could you tell?
The village was lovely.
With a distinct Spanish flavor.
Which probably explains why the French cafe where we had lunch was so absolutely un-French.
It had a slight Gallic atmosphere.
And yes, French Onion soup.
But the closest the menu came to French cuisine was my uninspired, build it yourself chicken salad sandwich on a croissant.
The husband’s?
Might have had Grey Poupon.
Ooh La La Lame.
Finishing our circuit, we stopped at a Native American jewelry store. The prices were high, and though tempted…. I was going to walk out empty handed until the husband started talking.
When the husband starts talking? I know we’re going to be there a while and resumed shopping. Seriously this time.
So it really was his fault I spent a large chunk of change on this bracelet.
Yup.
His fault.
On our way out, a giant aloe vera plant threatened to swallow him whole while he gazed at a statue…
No. Not really…
But I totally would have posted that video to YouTube if it had.
Said statue.
Fountain.
Or tiny public bathtub, tough call.
Cat statue, directly opposite a pot filled with….
That can’t be a coincidence.
River's world..... 