I hear myself saying that a lot. And then I realize, Wow, I do. I love Tucson, (and Vail), Arizona. It still surprises me that I really live here and that I'm enjoying it so much.
When the kids and I came out here to live with Joel temporarily in the summer of 2010, it was summer in Tucson (think 110 degrees regularly) and it was not permanent. Also, we learned the foibles of apartment living with our bellowing beagle, Daisy: being land-locked, for one. She could never be left alone lest she hear a creek from the neighbor's floor boards and begin her incessant barking binge. Our neighbors informed us pretty quickly about that issue. She's always been a house-dog, un-used to hearing the voices and movements of others in our absence.
So now, we're renting a house in Vail. We have the best of both worlds: small town living at the foot of a mountain, surrounded by cattle range and more mountains, unobstructed by anything but the silhouette of a saguaro or an Italian cypress. We regularly spy the sharply contrasting coal and russet cattle grazing on dry grasses in the endless fields of cacti; and even the occasional coyotes with tawny, dust-colored coats trotting in twos across the sun-baked roads, so much like domestic dogs chiefs of themselves. And then, we listen to the twilight lowing of those longhorns and the timed yip-yap-yowling of our canine neighbors on their nightly hunt for food and fun.
On weekdays, Grace and I head into Tucson. Her school and her new community theater class is right near the heart of the city. Each morning and afternoon we see joggers, runners (think Kenyan speeds), walkers, speed walkers, walkers with babies and baby strollers, and besides all those walkers, are the ubiquitous bikers of Tucson. There are so many cyclists in this city, they have lanes on all the roads exclusively for them. And for all those walkers? They have special crossing lights in addition to the normal "Walk/Don't Walk" signs; all they have to do is push a button, the traffic lights blink yellow, then turn red for the pedestrian to make their way across safely and conveniently. All public schools, even in the suburbs, have portable 15mph signs posted when school is in the first or last hour of session, and all cars obey the slower speed limits. I love this town!
In Warren, I felt so conspicuous in my Prius--like an alien in a spacecraft, so unusual was my environmentally conscious automotive choice. Here in Tucson, my car has found its people. They come in all colors and dress up in bumper stickers that have sayings like: "Keep Tucson Kind," "Whose Your Farmer?" "Tolerance" (with applicable religious symbols), "Create Art Not War," "Zombie Outbreak Response Team," and "Green Cabs for Blue Skies" (the taxi cabs are little bright green Priuses{I can't call them Prii}).
We moved here to be with Joel. But this place is chock-full of artists, poets, painters, musicians, students (and professors) of the Univerisity of Arizona; I love college towns and college students. I will never stop being a student myself and to have them so near is inspiring and makes me think of Nathan, too. This is the place for me.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Friday, January 17, 2014
In Case of Cattle in the Road Dial 9-1-1
Yay! I figured out how to access my blog again. It's been a long while.
After almost five years of living apart, Gracie and I are finally living in Arizona with Joel. Nathan is up in the U.P. for his first year at Michigan Tech...he graduated first in his class this past June--whoo-hoo, Nathan!--and is now studying civil engineering. He was torn between whether to go for the engineering at Tech or go to CCS or U of M for art/design...in the end, he fell in love with the great outdoors of Houghton, Michigan. He's still not positive he made the right choice as far as area of study, but at least he's made great friends and loves the life up there. The kid is an artist at heart...and hey, an artistic eye will get him far in designing and building bridge-type structures, too, right? Yeah.
So we've been here since mid-August and I'm loving it. Grace loves it but really misses her friends in Michigan. She just turned ten and started the sixth grade, so it's a tough age for her to have to uproot, and a major school transition, but she's adjusted beautifully.
Yesterday, after dropping her off, I turned onto the road that leads up to our house and saw two fuzzy young copper-colored cows moseying up the hill, seemingly to find their way back on to the wide-open range on the other side of the wire fencing. My first thought was that I should call 9-1-1, but then it wasn't really an emergency per se. It was a slower paced road, but it was hilly, and people did speed, if a car came at them from below, they might get hit. I didn't have my phone with me anyway. I wondered what the rancher's phone number was or how I would find out. I briefly toyed with the idea of pulling over to herd them toward the opening myself...hya! hya! waving my arms to make them go...no, that would just be too comical and dangerous; how would I get them to move that far without accidentally herding them further into the road?
It was only a minute to our house, I would text Joel to see what the standard procedure was for these matters.
He said to call the Pima County Sheriff. I did, but they told me (and very kindly transferred me) to dial 9-1-1 next time I see a cow in the road. The 9-1-1 operator said she had someone on the way. Whew! Disaster averted.
Since living here, that was actually my third encounter with cattle in the roadways. The other two already had ranchers and police there taking care of the situation. Such a vastly different place than Warren, Michigan.
After almost five years of living apart, Gracie and I are finally living in Arizona with Joel. Nathan is up in the U.P. for his first year at Michigan Tech...he graduated first in his class this past June--whoo-hoo, Nathan!--and is now studying civil engineering. He was torn between whether to go for the engineering at Tech or go to CCS or U of M for art/design...in the end, he fell in love with the great outdoors of Houghton, Michigan. He's still not positive he made the right choice as far as area of study, but at least he's made great friends and loves the life up there. The kid is an artist at heart...and hey, an artistic eye will get him far in designing and building bridge-type structures, too, right? Yeah.
So we've been here since mid-August and I'm loving it. Grace loves it but really misses her friends in Michigan. She just turned ten and started the sixth grade, so it's a tough age for her to have to uproot, and a major school transition, but she's adjusted beautifully.
Yesterday, after dropping her off, I turned onto the road that leads up to our house and saw two fuzzy young copper-colored cows moseying up the hill, seemingly to find their way back on to the wide-open range on the other side of the wire fencing. My first thought was that I should call 9-1-1, but then it wasn't really an emergency per se. It was a slower paced road, but it was hilly, and people did speed, if a car came at them from below, they might get hit. I didn't have my phone with me anyway. I wondered what the rancher's phone number was or how I would find out. I briefly toyed with the idea of pulling over to herd them toward the opening myself...hya! hya! waving my arms to make them go...no, that would just be too comical and dangerous; how would I get them to move that far without accidentally herding them further into the road?
It was only a minute to our house, I would text Joel to see what the standard procedure was for these matters.
He said to call the Pima County Sheriff. I did, but they told me (and very kindly transferred me) to dial 9-1-1 next time I see a cow in the road. The 9-1-1 operator said she had someone on the way. Whew! Disaster averted.
Since living here, that was actually my third encounter with cattle in the roadways. The other two already had ranchers and police there taking care of the situation. Such a vastly different place than Warren, Michigan.
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