SimplyLife

It was a beautiful afternoon here today, so I snuck away for a short hike while my husband was mowing.  Ramsey Canyon is beautiful anytime of year, but especially in the summertime.  The gigantic sycamore trees, the sound of running water, and usually hummingbirds, but today the hummers were absent. Instead, I was greeted by clouds of butterflies along the trail.  They didn't seem to be bothered by my presence and continued their wing exercises.  There were several varieties sunning themselves in the dappled sunlight and then fluttering around as if getting the flying thing down just right.  When I was a kid, I used to chase them with a net through the fields and the unlucky ones ended up pinned to a piece of cardboard.  I prefer a camera these days and I was glad I brought it along. So instead of a lot of text this week let me show you some of those delicate and elegant little creatures. As you know, butterflies start out as caterpillars, eating like maniacs before they sp

This morning we enjoyed a conversation with our dear friend, Wendy. It was on our patio over a cup of coffee with Clancy occasionally pushing his wet nose onto my laptop.  Wendy, however was at her dining room table in the Congo.  That's right, she's in Africa.  A missionary for over 20 years to various people groups in that region, it was the first time we've had a video chat.  It was a reminder of how far communication has come over the years. Back in the early 90s when she served her first term on that exotic continent, letters took weeks to get back and forth. They were treasured, read and reread. We were happy the thin air mail paper had arrived safely to tell us of her adventures in learning new languages, adjusting to a new culture, and a new menu. It was truly special when a cassette arrived and we heard her voice. Our girls produced their own and sent a rambling audio letter of school news, and a concert of vocal and piano selections. The paper missionary letter

Living in the West for the last nine years has given me an appreciation for the strange, weird, dangerous, and beautiful flora and fauna of the high desert.  The first thing I learned upon arrival is that most everything in the desert bites in one way or another. The plants have thorns, seen and unseen. There are arachnids with wicked tails, otherwise known as scorpions, Black Widow spiders, and snakes of every ilk. Then we learned that there were centipedes of unusual size and bugs that resembled aliens from another planet. Coyotes, javelina, and the occasional bobcat were local residents too. The cacti and wildflowers are unique, some even a touch exotic. Cow-tongue, cholla, prickly pear, desert willow, rattlesnake weed, yucca, sage, creosote bush, Apache plume, and fairyduster. All are tough and thrive in our challenging conditions. After scratching our heads and vainly trying identify what we were looking at, we went to the local bookstore for help. The Audubon Field Guide to t

The last two years have been especially challenging for my flower gardens. Between an historic cold snap of zero degrees for two nights in a row and a killer drought of 6 1/2 months last year, my plants took a real hit. There were several plants that outright kicked the bucket after the extreme cold. When last spring rolled around, the poor things were brown and crispy. Vainly I looked for a hint of green, but alas, they were unceremoniously removed and tossed in the dead plant pile out back. Some struggled along and finally managed to leaf out, putting out a few blooms. The roses were mediocre, so I cut them back with impunity in the fall. There's always next year, I maintained.  Spring 2012 rolled around and with high hopes of bushels of flowers, gardening began again in earnest. The roses recovered from their 2011 doldrums and produced nicely all through May. There were however, a few more flower fatalities and some slackers who just hadn't recovered in the courtyard. Repl