Things Melting



Me and the organ pipe cactus (I think).

Me and the organ pipe cactus (I think).

It’s been two weeks in Borrego Springs and tomorrow we head north.  It has been rather warm.  Warm enough for the chocolate that we spent a small fortune on to melt.  Melted chocolate means ruined chocolate.  Forget eating it.  Forget cooking with it.  Just throw it away.  It is ruined.  Good grief.  New rule.  When camped in the desert, leave the chocolate at home.

Consider jelly beans.  Or try lollipops.  We were at the ice cream store day before yesterday and they were playing that song.  Lollipop, lollipop. Oh, lolli, lolli, lollipop.  I know you can hear it in your brain.  Go ahead.  Sing it.  We all the know the words.  It’s as if no time has elapsed between high school and now.  I know every single word.  Still.  The mind is an amazing tool.

Unless you are working a crossword puzzle.  On Sunday, I print out the puzzles from the NYTimes and the LATimes.  And then I drive myself crazy trying to remember synonyms for clues like “sole food” or “angry”  or “maliciously snide”.  Really, people, in what universe does a crossword editor live?  They get paid to drive me mad.  So, I work until something like my leg starts twitching and then I put down the puzzle and let the clues work in my subconscious.  Sometime I actually solve some of them in the middle of the night.  Mostly, I still don’t have a clue what the answer to the clue is.  Oh, well.


Tonight we have a very pink sky in the east.  Wind blew some clouds in and the results are spectacular.  Set against the swaying palm trees, it looks beautiful…almost like Hawaii without the ocean.  Although, the Salton Sea isn’t that far away….

But I digress.


My computer on which I compose.

My computer on which I compose.

Rayman and I played golf today.  So, on the first hole, I noticed that the cart had an ice chest.  When I peered in, it was full of tepid water.  “Where’s the ice?”  At that question, Rayman became uncool.  He got snippy.  This was not a good idea on his part, may I suggest.  It got me upset (read mad).  So, the next couple of holes, I screwed up some shots.  And, as I think back on it, I was completely justified in blaming him for my less than desirable shots.  That kept on until I realized what I was doing wrong (it involved the wrists).  My swing improved and so did my forgiveness of his transgressions.  Lesson learned.  If you snip at your spouse, all swings will be blamed on the snipper until the snippee works out all swing problems.  Just a snippet for all you golfers.

We had leftovers tonight.  Rack of lamb, green salad adorned with tomatoes (I buy those cherry tomatoes and keep them at room temp until they start shriveling), avocado and homemade shallot dressing, and a few spears of barbecued asparagus.  Opened up some Graveyard Cab and a fine meal it was.  We ate in for the first time (inside the dog house).  It has cooled considerable this p.m.  Wind has brought forth some cool temps so inside seemed appropriate.

Beau was not on his best behavior today.  I walked him to the dog run which is comprised of a chain-linked fence that surrounded a dirt lot that is home to three little spindly trees.  Inside the fence were numerous “used” tennis balls.  He preferred them to his rubber ball.  So he refused to fetch his ball.  He kept trying to bury the old slobbered up ball (the lot is sandy).  And then he just sat in the shade of the 4 foot high tree and panted.  No fetching today.  Guess he didn’t like being left alone while we frolicking on the golf course.

Borrego Springs is very unique.  A desert town in the middle of the desert.  Serpents and dinosaurs grace the desert floor.  A local artist makes the sculptures.  There are few lawns but  several golf courses.  The pro at the private country club where we played today has worked at the course for 17 years.  He is used to the heat, he reports.  While I looked at all the golf clothes he explained to me that the course is open almost all year.  He seemed a bit fuzzy about the water although.  He told me not to drink it unless it came out of a fountain.  Once, the town lost power for a whole week when it was 120.  Everyone had to leave town.  In the summer, I’m guessing that might be about 100 people.  Just saying.

Well, it’s time for a rousing game of scrabble.  We play with great vigor and usually tie or almost tie every game.  It’s a hoot under the influence.  And I’ll leave it at that.

Okay, I take that back.  The Rayman and I just concluded a game of scrabble and he is a son-of-a-biscuit ball player.  That man drew all the s’s and one of the blanks.  I did not stand a chance.  He whopped meand I am beside myself alone on the dining room bench.  Listening to the most fabulous music.  Carolina Samba.  Quite lively.  It sounds so good because we had some port and the maryjane and a gin martini.  What could go wrong?

You know he also got the X so of course, sex was one of his words on a triple letter score.  Of course, he is a male.  Anyway, now Cielo sin Nubes  is now playing.  I think that translates to either sky without clouds or possibly rain without hail.  What’s your take?


Buenos noches, mi amigos.















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