On the Move Again

After another month's exile in the Land of Flat, and, immediately upon my return to Tucson, a two week long inexplicable back injury during which I could not rotate an eyeball without involuntarily crying out in pain, it turns out I remember enough about riding to take Li'l Burro out to lift his head high in the air and sniff the sweet acacia wafting through the spring desert air, and to investigate some cheap eats.

How nice of the MoM folks to let Li'l Burro rest amongst the tomatoes after our little jaunt through the desert.

Market on the Move is not cool in a organic, locavore sort of way, but it is supersonically cool in a reduction of food waste sort of way.  If you've not heard just how much perfectly good food is thrown away in the US and around the world, not to mention how much land and resources are used to grow that very same food, prepare to be horrified.  Market on the Move "rescues" excess or imperfect produce from produce brokers that would normally end up in a landfill, and makes it available to the public.  Sixty pounds for ten bucks!  Give some to the less fortunate in your neighborhood, or stock your own pantry.

Tomorrow: flight lesson! You do know I'm learning to fly, right?  *sigh*  There's so much I haven't told you...

Three Wheels (Two Wings)

It’s not often you wake up on your morning off in Tucson, AZ only to find an inch of snow and ice coating your motorcycle* and hear on the radio that even humble Gates Pass is closed, but when the unthinkable happens, well, what’s a girl to do?

Leave the snow behind and go riding in the air, that’s what!

Pilot Chris** does Important Stuff while I stay out of the way and document the day.

My seat!

The pre-flight check feels remarkably similar to a motorcycle pre-flight check.  There are other familiar tasks, too…

... like grabbing the keys on your way out the door...
 

… man powered reverse out of the parking spot...




… and fueling up. 

Okay, yeah, surely the price of this part of the day bears no similarity at all to motorcycle riding.

By this point, I am hopping up and down with excitement.  And I really do hop up and down (and clap, too!) if I’m excited enough.

Hm, now what?

We’re ready to roll!  I’m a little nervous, but as we pick up speed and the nose of this little Piper Cherokee levitates into the air, it’s nearly impossible not to joyously cry out the obvious:  “We’re flying!”
  
There’s a lump in my throat.  It’s so, so beautiful.



The lump goes away, but I am still speechless.  I even decline the chance to fly the plane myself. There's simply too much magic outside my window today for that.






And only now does the obvious question occur to me.  Could a small motorcycle fit into a small plane?  The answer, it appears, is a definite maybe…

Li'l Burro and I contemplate entry into a Bellanca Super Viking.  Thanks to Pilot Guy for this shot.

Imagine the long weekend possibilities, oh my!

*Really happened!
**Not to be confused with "Pilot Guy."

A View from the Cockpit

I looked up from my work just now* and this is exactly what I saw.    It made me smile.  And stop to snap a photo.

Today’s CSA haul, in mid-prep.  Every Tuesday is Christmas!  I live in a pretty small house. The music stand is in the bedroom,  and from there I have a pretty good view of the kitchen.

*"Just now" meaning two weeks ago.  Today's CSA pick up reminded me that I wrote this post two weeks ago and never published it.

Praise Jesus!

When you have a Category Five homeowner situation, and the workmen in your house are dressed like this…

This guy’s name is Jesus.  And he’s saving my house.  Praise Jesus indeed!

… you’ve definitely earned yourself one of these…

Far and away the best margarita I’ve ever had, which means now I’ll never be able to have one anywhere else. Good thing they’re served about a three minute walk from my house.

…and a ride on one of these…

My ride still languishes in the back yard and it still hurts me more than I can say.

…in spite of everything you said here.

I got the former  after a performance last week at one of Janos Wilder’s ventures*, Downtown Kitchen and Cocktails (dumb name, good cocktails and a fun, better than average bar menu – can you say “foie gras bons bons?”), but I’m still waiting for the latter.**  Soon.  Very soon.

* Locally famous (somewhat nationally, actually, since he's a current semifinalist for the James Beard Foundation's Outstanding Chef of the Year, actual winner TBA in May) chef who didn’t rock my world at first (take a classic, add chipotle, call it fancy southwest cuisine), but that impression was formed a good 10 years ago, and lately I’m changing my mind.  Interestingly, the day after I wrote this, I saw a review of this restaurant that pretty much read my mind word for word.  You can read it here.
** During the interval between when I wrote this and when it "went live," I must divulge that I did indeed go for a short ride.  Stacks of music to learn be damned,  I rode up Kitt Peak to use the restroom, since the only bathroom in my house has been rendered temporarily unusable, thanks to the current homeowner situation.  It was the most pathetic, remedial ride ever, yet I couldn't have been happier.