Tucson Tale #5

This is my final Tucson Tale. I tried to publish this before leaving Tucson, but my blog app went on strike. So we’re back in Ottawa and I’ll soon be returning to my primary subject—food.  Dealing with the tiny kitchen in the casita has taught me interesting strategies and compelled me to create some interesting dishes.

For this final tale, I want to pull together the loose ends of the southwest hiking experience. Therefore, I will answer a question that I know has been niggling, if not at the front of your minds, then way at the back:

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Tucson Tale #4

As some readers may recall, the last letter described my first major hike which left me 1) feeling like over-boiled legumes, 2) looking like a beet, and 3) considering the benefits of spouse-icide.

Well, today I have a very different story to tell—one of triumph over body, spirit, and hiking poles. It all began on a not-so-ambitious hike in Sabino Canyon. A little bit up and onto a cliff, a little bit of a zig-zag down to the road—maybe 2 miles in all.

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Goin’ West and South

The bird feeder in our backyard.

The bird feeder in our backyard.

Dear Readers from around the World,

In the past two weeks, we’ve gotten about three feet of snow: heavy “heart-attack-while-shovelling” snow; light, airy snow; blowing hard snow; flurries snow; you-name-it-Canadian-snow.

I am NOT a snow person. My idea of heaven? No hats, no mitts, no boots, no shovelling, no slipping and sliding, no scraping ice off windshields, etc.

This is why the spouse and I are returning to Tucson, Arizona, for January and February. Tucson isn’t particularly hot at this time of year, but (blessed be) it has no snow.

Plus, we’ll be able to hike in the mountains.

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