“C’mon, guys! Let’s go for a walk!”
Down the lane we go and find that Jeff and Glenda are sitting outside their Casita. We stop for a visit. My plan is to take the lane down to the wide, dirt road and follow the road at a steady, brisk pace for some sustained exercise. No stopping for sniffs and photos. Oh no, a good, invigorating, heart-pumping jaunt is what we need.
Glenda asks, “Have you seen the crested cactus?”
“It’s right before those two brown boulders.”
“Really? That’s not far. I’m going to get my walking stick and go over there.”
So much for the intensive walk.
Bridget, Spike, and I head back up the lane to retrieve the walking stick from the PTV. Spike races ahead with more energy than usual. (Socializing always makes him happy.)
“Spikey! You’re such a frisky boy this morning!” I laugh, delighted at the sight of his legs, the way they pump his body in wild abandon. Bridget and I chase after him.
Soon we’re carefully working our way over the rocky ground in a winding route toward the brown boulders. It doesn’t take us long.
“There it is!”
I’ve seen pictures of crested saguaros, but never a crested organ pipe.
The closer you look, the more fascinating the crest becomes. Nature never ceases to amaze.
I walk around the organ pipe and find another crest on the other side! A two-fer!
Finished examining the cactus, I look around and there goes Spike, heading for home. I can’t call him back because he won’t hear me, and I can’t catch up to stop him. Darn. I wanted to keep exploring further out.
“Well, Bridge. It looks like you don’t get to lead us home today.”
Later I feel the need to accomplish something.
First I sand the gutter well. Then I wipe it clean. Using pieces of cardboard I saved for this purpose, I shield the PTV’s windows below and spray-paint the gutter with white gloss paint. Beautiful!
Okay. That’s enough work for today.
Notes: The money page for February is up!
Also I added more items to each of the three pages under Shopping Links.
And if you haven’t read the comments below yesterday’s post, I urge you to do so. Readers’ shared memories of their fathers — some funny, some touching — as well as adventures in the family station wagon during the fifties.