IT'S GOOD TO BE HOME

Now, is that a beautiful picture? Something you would want to come home to? That's AZ. And I missed it.

A task that I have facing me is to remove a pretty good size of a paddle cactus (my nomenclature) that has fallen over from top-heaviness. When I tried to help it when I noticed the severe lean, it let me know who was in charge. Little cacti stickers, almost invisible to see, certainly could be felt for four or five days. And now it has toppled and needs removal. While I'll attempt to be careful, I'm prepared for more bristles in the fingers as a result.

Also, the cactus garden has taken a beating from several 110 degree days. I watered last Saturday, but no more. I mean flowery or not, they're supposed to be cactusus. They're supposed to withstand excessive heat. From now on, well at least for three more weeks, they're on their own. Stand up and be counted. Bite the bullet. Suck it up. You can be replaced you know. Except for the 6 1/2 foot saguaro.

So between frost damage in the Winter and heat damage in the Summer, our plants, flowers, and cactusus are probably glad we're back home, too. Ah, San Diego sounds good.

INTO THE CLOUDS

Or HANG GLIDING IN THE TETONS

As you can guess, only from a spectator's point of view. But this afternoon I learned more about hang gliding than I ever knew.

1. I never knew they could fly so high. While sitting around the hotel pool, I was treated to sights such as bungie/trampoline jumping and hang gliding. Not together, mind you. But I had no idea that hang gliders could fly up into the clouds. One guy disappeared into a white, puffy, cerus cloud for quite a while. His buddy only kissed the cloud and came down.

2. I never knew they could do a 180. While in descent, another hang glider did three 180 degree upside down flips while seated in his harness. He was close to the landing area but still high above the hotel. Previously, I had only seen hang gliders take off from mountains, certainly not the tops, and glide down into the valleys. Not in the Tetons. These guys put on quite a show. And they were obviously just vacationers or local amateurs. I was impressed.

So what do the lifesavers in the picture have to do with anything. Whoa! I think it's self-explanatory.

THE PURPLE MARTIN HOUSE

Good friend and former teacher Bob Noel lived on N. 27th St. high on a hill. His address was Twin Oaks, at least to some. After he passed away, his house was torn down and a new one put up.

The new house was built by a liberal, to my understanding. That, in itself, would have been disappointing to Mr. Noel. But he had a lot of humorous disappointments in his stay at that address.

Back in the 70's, he researched the purple martin bird and decided that since they eat up to 1,000 insects a day--their favorite being the mosquito, that perhaps he needed some nearby. When he heard they like to nest high above the ground, he commissioned a local company (Tri County Electric, I think) to erect a birdhouse 30 feet above ground. It was really nice looking. But he never got a martin except one time in a span of fifteen years, and he didn't stay. Sparrows loved the new digs, though.

When I went to our daughter's house in May, I saw purple martins swarming in the canyon behind her house. I also spotted not one, but three purple martin nests with birds living there, high in the eaves of her two-story house. I told her how good they were and related the Noel story.

To think she has three and they just found their way there on their own. Her neighbor had an additional one that I could see. Maybe because they live in California, the birds, like the new householder in MTV, are liberals.

NO JUSTICE

So I don't have a scanner with me. I found a generic waterfall. I duplicated the picture. It kinda reminds me of a fake waterfall on the River Walk Golf Course in San Diego. But it's not as beautiful as the real deal caled The Grand Canyon of Yellowstone.

The Lower Falls drop 308 feet into a river below. It was one of the highlights of our trip to Yellowstone yesterday. The Canyon is also beautiful, and a mini-variation of our Grand Canyon in AZ.

Other highlights of Mother Nature Gone Nuts, as Steinbeck called Yellowstone, were the buffaloes. We had to come to a stop on the highway to allow several huge buffs pass. I rolled down my car window and could almost reach out and touch one. There were a few rangers around to try to ensure no one got gored or charged by the mighty bison. They were awesome to see at that range and also on the range in hundreds. Baby buff calves nursed and lay beside their moms. All seemed unaffected by the cars and amateur photographers.

We also were privy to seeing a bald eagle in its nest, a herd of antelope, one lone elk whom we had to stop the car for, one lone moose near the road but in dark cover, and oh yeah some geothermal geysers. One was called Old Fateful. Well, it was fate that we got to see it go off ten minutes ahead of the posted time of expectance. Several people missed it, trusting the Ranger Station and Gift Shop and were on their way to the geyser when we were leaving. In the perfect blue Wyoming sky, Old Faithful provided a great show of shooting up water and steam.

I've longed to see Yellowstone, and yes, it took me a long time to get there. The wait was worth it.

COLD AS ICE

Summer some places are nice. I'd forgotten. Before you think I'm getting nostalgic about MTV Summers, please think again. I remember the humidity all too well.

When it reached 110 degrees in Scottsdale last week, I went to a swimming pool where things were much better. Only did they get worse when I touched some metal on my sunglasses. No problem: off with the glasses, as I tossed them to the cool decking.

Later, I moved my arm on the raft I was floating on. It felt like I touched it to a hot toaster. "Ok, you win," I declared softly under my breath and headed inside to air conditioned comfort. Actually, I could have screamed it at the top of my lungs and no one could have heard. They were already inside. You see, that's the way it is in Southwestern Summers. People spend more time inside their homes or at Costco. It's the exact reverse of those who dwell in cold weather climes.

So I'm at Jackson Hole this week. High temperature--low 70's. Last night's low--35. Wow. That's almost 80 degrees cooler than I'm used to. So, I was in no hurry to get to breakfast this morning. I stepped out to 47 degrees. I was in short sleeves and shorts and as long as I was in the sun, it was fine.

The Teton National Park is a sight of beauty. There's the hole, or the valley, and then there they are, rising up exposing their snow caps. As I raise my voice to the Maker, I'm reminded again of His creation.

" IF IFS AND BUTS WERE CANDY AND NUTS, WE'D ALL HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS"

That's a line from my favorite baseball announcer, Cardinals Mike Shannon. It used to be Jack Buck and before him Harry Carey, but only as a Cardinal announcer. When Carey and Buck worked together there were none better. Jack Buck and Shannon a close second. Notice I didn't mention Joe Buck. Sorry, I don't care for him. At all.

But that's not what this entry is about, It's about dandelions and wishes. When I'd see kids blow the seeds off dandelions, at least I guess they're seeds, I used to think of the number of weeds that were being fed. You see, as a professional yard mower, that was my interest, not spreading even more dandys for me to have to mow or dig up.

Some even played "She loves me, she loves me not," with them. We lived in a tough 'hood where daisy petals were rare. Others just made wishes with each blow till none survived. A windy kid could have only one wish before he/she ran out of weed (well, it's not a flower). Since we don't have (m)any in Arizona, you'll have to play along with me.

My first wish is for love. "No not just for one, but for everyone." And before you think me a romantic or sentamentalist, remember that's what Jesus wanted: love for the Father and love for one another.

My second wish is for satisfaction. "And I try, and I try, and I try." Whatever our endeavors, I hope we can achieve satisfaction. I've blogged before about the satisfaction one gets from a hard day of physical labor, when at the end of the day one can look back with pride.

My third, and last wish, since my dandelion has only a little substance left, is for passion. Everyone needs a fervent passion. It can be people, job, or recreation related, but it must be done/looked forward to passionately. It gives us purpose and satisfaction. Or despair and broken hearts. But at least we're feeling something.

That's it. My dandelion is bare. "No more to build on there," as Frost once said. Love, satisfaction, passion. Those'll do.