Lila and I are chilling in the Arizona room, trying to ignore the strange flappy noise coming from the swamp cooler and pondering things while I finish up the last few hours of a mini-vacay I granted myself this week.
One thing we both really like is the backyard.
Great thing about the backyard from a non-canine point of view? The view of the Catalina Mountains to the north. We only get a small wedge sandwiched between the baby palm tree and the neighbor's RV but it's more than we had before and more than most people get in central Tucson. This afternoon, the highest part of the range is obscured by dark blue-gray shadow. A thunderhead looms low over the peaks. The lower slopes are mottled summer browns and graygreens. Nothing is on fire this year.
Last night, Raph and I had supper on the patio facing those mountains. Food City take-out containers of carne deshebrada, burria, and pollo ranchero (spiced and juicy shredded beef and chicken) and three kinds of fresh salsa all wrapped and sopped up with homemade tortillas. Rain sprinkled the tin roof of the ramada and wicked lightning from two huge monsoon storms split the skies to the north and the east while we ate.
After supper, we sat for awhile in the cool humid air and watched the storms come in over the peaks. I had a glass of red wine; Raphael drank a light Asian beer. We also had leftover blueberry, plum, and nectarine crisp with vanilla ice cream.
Great thing about the backyard from a canine perspective?
Licking the bowls.