Tuesday, June 28, 2005
I've just caught up...
...over at Movies, Mom & Me. I think some of the newest entries may surprise you.
I have one errand to run then I have no more excuses...well, I do, but they're poor...for putting off my reactions to our appointment last Thursday.
Our very warm but not yet really hot weather is beginning to set in. This is the right time of year for it, over the July 4th weekend. We moved up here, as a family minus one sister, on July 4, 1973. It was hot. Over 100 downtown, I believe. At that time, though, we also procured a house out of town, just about three quarters of a mile down the road on Elwood Drive. At that time the Phoenix metro-plex and Prescott weather were more closely related. The Phoenix metro-plex, now, has it's own weather system going. The mobile home we used to live in was in far east Mesa, so close to the border of Apache Junction that my parents, at one time, were allowed to register their car in Pinal County, the advantage being that they didn't qualify for the EPA tests. At the time my parents bought, their home complex was surrounded by orange groves and was typically the coolest region of the Valley, day and night. The air wasn't particularly good because of the pesticide spraying, but it had its advantages. All the groves are now gone, that area of Mesa is typically the hottest section of the Valley summer and winter and, although the pesticide spraying is almost gone, the Valley weather system drives all the pollutants to East Mesa where they are blocked into stagnation by the Superstition Mountain Weather System.
MCS noticed something that I'd only begun to observe previous to her and her daughter's visit. Mom has begun to refer to this house as being chosen by Dad (my father, her husband), although she 'remembers' this with fondness and is pleased with "his" choice. The funny thing is that my father did pick out the mobile home in Mesa and Mom used to, when her mind was much less creative, refer to that home as follows: "Yes, your Dad had to have this home. I never liked it. [faraway look] I always liked the farm. I don't know why he got rid of that."
I'm not sure why Mom is insisting on remembering Dad as being involved in the choosing of this house, although I'm sure he'd like it. Dad, though, had been dead eight years before Mom decided to look for a "summer home", and nine before she decided on this house. Could be because I have taken hold of this house and molded it for our comfort and appreciation, with the generous help of several family members. I am also most like my Dad and my style reflects some of his outlook, but mostly what I would call his "sunset" outlook, embodied in his love of and deep appreciation for sunsets. This house, literally, reflects his sunset outlook.
The pyracantha are filling in nicely over our western "sunset" window, producing a very subtle dappling on the carpet in the evening. I've got some general clean-up to do in the yard and need to establish our kindling pile. The compost has some rich, clean smelling dirt ready for use. I think I'll compost the remaining rose.
My plans for the house, all of which I've run by Mom for approval, are falling onto the floor of my brain, again. Redoing the bathroom. Taking out the wall between Mom's and my bedroom; the linen archway and the moving of Mom's closets. Sorting. Selling. Cleaning. I want to scope out having a Franklin insert or an Earth Stove inserted into our fireplace so we can use it without drawing smoke into the room. We've got plenty of choice wood in back, seasoned to perfection.
Today probably won't involve an a/c afternoon. Tomorrow and through the weekend probably will.
Errand Time.
Later.
I have one errand to run then I have no more excuses...well, I do, but they're poor...for putting off my reactions to our appointment last Thursday.
Our very warm but not yet really hot weather is beginning to set in. This is the right time of year for it, over the July 4th weekend. We moved up here, as a family minus one sister, on July 4, 1973. It was hot. Over 100 downtown, I believe. At that time, though, we also procured a house out of town, just about three quarters of a mile down the road on Elwood Drive. At that time the Phoenix metro-plex and Prescott weather were more closely related. The Phoenix metro-plex, now, has it's own weather system going. The mobile home we used to live in was in far east Mesa, so close to the border of Apache Junction that my parents, at one time, were allowed to register their car in Pinal County, the advantage being that they didn't qualify for the EPA tests. At the time my parents bought, their home complex was surrounded by orange groves and was typically the coolest region of the Valley, day and night. The air wasn't particularly good because of the pesticide spraying, but it had its advantages. All the groves are now gone, that area of Mesa is typically the hottest section of the Valley summer and winter and, although the pesticide spraying is almost gone, the Valley weather system drives all the pollutants to East Mesa where they are blocked into stagnation by the Superstition Mountain Weather System.
MCS noticed something that I'd only begun to observe previous to her and her daughter's visit. Mom has begun to refer to this house as being chosen by Dad (my father, her husband), although she 'remembers' this with fondness and is pleased with "his" choice. The funny thing is that my father did pick out the mobile home in Mesa and Mom used to, when her mind was much less creative, refer to that home as follows: "Yes, your Dad had to have this home. I never liked it. [faraway look] I always liked the farm. I don't know why he got rid of that."
I'm not sure why Mom is insisting on remembering Dad as being involved in the choosing of this house, although I'm sure he'd like it. Dad, though, had been dead eight years before Mom decided to look for a "summer home", and nine before she decided on this house. Could be because I have taken hold of this house and molded it for our comfort and appreciation, with the generous help of several family members. I am also most like my Dad and my style reflects some of his outlook, but mostly what I would call his "sunset" outlook, embodied in his love of and deep appreciation for sunsets. This house, literally, reflects his sunset outlook.
The pyracantha are filling in nicely over our western "sunset" window, producing a very subtle dappling on the carpet in the evening. I've got some general clean-up to do in the yard and need to establish our kindling pile. The compost has some rich, clean smelling dirt ready for use. I think I'll compost the remaining rose.
My plans for the house, all of which I've run by Mom for approval, are falling onto the floor of my brain, again. Redoing the bathroom. Taking out the wall between Mom's and my bedroom; the linen archway and the moving of Mom's closets. Sorting. Selling. Cleaning. I want to scope out having a Franklin insert or an Earth Stove inserted into our fireplace so we can use it without drawing smoke into the room. We've got plenty of choice wood in back, seasoned to perfection.
Today probably won't involve an a/c afternoon. Tomorrow and through the weekend probably will.
Errand Time.
Later.
