After sunup, a walk along Arcadia Dr., toward Camelback Mountain.
This morning, I woke up from a dream about throwing on some clothes and going for a pre-dawn walk around the Royal Palms Resort at the base of Camelback Mountain in Phoenix, like I did every morning last week.
The complimentary coffee was set up in the MixUp Bar. To get there, I enjoyed a path of sofly lit cobblestones, lined with fragrant rosemary, and adobe walls. Water fountains were quietly bubbling. A few orange trees shone in the darkness. Mellow accoustic music was wafting around me. I was happy. Even the moon was smiling, with Mars above it.
An item I noticed for the first time, at 6:15 AM on Feb. 11, 2025.
I brought my own ceramic mug because I knew that my to-go coffee was not going far. There is a cubby with a fireplace carved into a corner of this lounge. I have gone to it for many years now, maybe 15 to 20 years. I happily share it with other resort guests, but, by going very early, I most often am alone.
Welcome warmth after a cool night.
I sat and stared at the fire, at the rustic wood floor, and all other design aspects, like the copper tabletops, of this Spanish Mediteranean villa. Sometimes I read. I usually just enjoyed. This year, I saw the detail on the menu cover, and savored its spareness, which still got the message across: this is a place to get a drink.
Rustic floor of the MixUp Bar, Royal Palm.MixUp Bar, Menu cover, Royal Palm, Phoenix.Lit up Palms line the drive, 6:39 AM, Feb. 11, 2025. View to the Southeast.
My sleep brought me back to AZ until I woke up, when I realized that I was actually in the below zero winter of Nebraska. Sigh. There would be no warm walks today.
Content to live in both worlds, the dream and the reality!
Liam, crying because he can’t have a lit sparkler (or because the party’s over).
“The pop is gone.” says the last teenager to leave.
The ice is low.
The granola is gone.
This pretty jar (from TJMaxx) stored the granola.Our favorite granola. No raisins were added, just fresh fruit at breakfast time.
Two pans of Dan’s frozen Green Chili Chicken Enchiladas are gone.
Bryan’s extra tender dry rubbed ribs are gone.
One half cup of Ranch Beans, not to be thrown away, is stashed somewhere in the fridge behind too many leftovers to count.
The fresh strawberries, raspberries and blueberries are gone.
The decorated cookies, brownies and bars are gone.
Festive cookies from Amy.
The visiting people are gone.
Some of the fun people.
The recyclables, clean and sorted, are now gone, all picked up curbside.
Sorted, without plastic bags!
Even the pelicans are gone.
Earlier:
The pelicans are the first to arrive for their party on the lake, flying and gliding gracefully for a smooth landing as they join their group.
One of many.
Then Dan and Shirley get to the empty lakehouse and prepare for family arrivals.
5 more people come as Conor and Jess and family get settled for 10 days.
One day later, 4 more as Brandon, Jenn and family (with Molly’s hamster, Leny) get to the lake. The party heats up with games, food, and drinks, including a prosecco whose cork blasted out a light fixture, shattering glass, and shocking all!
Three days later, 5 more show up as the Omaha Nearys get here, wheeling in their gigantic cooler of food. Abundance is now!
One Omaha Neary stays back, sacrificing for business reasons, tending to her newly opened store, “Exist Green”. All have been there with similar decisions and understand, still missing her greatly!
Then, 4 more family members come on July 4th for the fish fry and fireworks.
Highlights from that day:
Clara, 17, leaves (with a carload of siblings and cousins who want a ride) to get cleaned walleye from Wes’s house to add to the dinner, which was a success!
One year old Liam plays football with the big kids, carrying the ball like a pro.
The neighbors haul out big box after big box of fireworks to their dock, which begin while it’s still light, startling all of us on the lawn, to stop what we’re doing and look over that way, staring. We observe hot (Amy checked) ashes falling on top of our boat cover. We try not to tell Dan, thinking he’ll go crazy, but surprisingly, when he learns of this, his reaction is “Whatever. We’ll deal with the consequences later.” There is no damage.
The recycle bins have ceased to be organized by category but has things thrown in willy nilly.
The cocktails and mocktails need a new flavor, so a rare and sneaky venture to a neighbor’s mint patch ensues. The surly neighbor is gone, but it is well known to all that we MUST stay off their property.
The cell phone is lost for a day as there is too much noise to find it.
The door slams often, with people going in and out (who don’t know how to use it, despite a few lessons). Ha!
Shirley says to more than one person, “We’ve lost all sense of normalcy around here.”
Riley enjoys a calm moment at sundown, July 4, 2019.
About 10 PM, Gus makes popcorn, surrounded by adoring younger relatives, and a couple of older ones, (his parents).
Not a single burnt kernel!
The mosquitos arrive chasing all but the most hardy inside, where lights are turned off so as to see the fireworks.
We forget to turn them back on, even as we’re tripping over piles of sandals and saying good-bye to the departers, until Conor says “Can we turn on a light? I’m not sure who I’m hugging.” We all laugh and turn on lights.
Some of the sandals we tripped over, at one end of the house.
Soon, the day, and days are gone.
Paintings by Riley, Molly, Jess, Clara, & Tatum. Paint and canvases, supplied by Jess.
On Writing, On Life 