The town is all abuzz because it is Super Bowl Sunday, the most sacred day in the life of a football fan. I am sure most of you either had or attended a party to celebrate with friends. I am at a loss at this time as to who will win but whoever does there is going to be a loser and a winner in the Harbaugh circle. I do not wish that on any family. We opted to stay at home where I can be in my flannel PJs relaxing on the couch with a coke and a few chips. And then there is Downton Abbey to watch. A must see in this family. I could not ask friends to turn off the set so I could indulge myself in the British hit. My husband will gladly sit before the bedroom TV set in case the game goes into overtime. Wouldn't it be great if the two teams tied. Or is that sacrilege? May the best team win.
We left our home yesterday where it was 70 degrees and sunny to travel to an old mining town built on hills about two hours away. The elevation here in Fountain Hills is about 1,600 feet and the town of Jerome is about 5,300 feet. Before we knew it we were surrounded by snowy forests and colder temps. Jerome is a national landmark and goes back to 1876. The town became a ghost town when the mining industry went bust, so the structures boast of the architecture of the 1800s. But now the town is an artist colony where homes and little studios are going for very high prices. As we traveled to Jerome, we noticed at a certain elevation our guardians of the desert, the Saguaros, vanished. They will only grow at lower elevations where it is warmer. But what a day we had traveling such a little distance to experience such opposite weather conditions. Arizona has it all. Snow and heat. I prefer the latter.
Perhaps you have read about all the shootings we are having out here. It is appalling. Every morning and evening the news reports more deaths by gunfire. I thought Minneapolis had their shootings, but Phoenix and Scottsdale take the prize. Drive bys, gang and contract killings are off the boards. With all the talk of gun reform what is one to think? It is a multifaceted problem and I am not going to put myself in the middle of the controversy, but change has to occur or we are going to be a police state in no time.
Here is a good read for you. The book is titled "The Whistling Season," by Ivan Doig, author of "Prairie Nocturne," and "Dancing at the Rascal Fair." In the fall of 1909 Rose Llewellyn and her brother Morris Morgan bring west with them "several kinds of education," none of the text book variety, and life is never the same in Marias Coulee, Montana. Doig is masterful at portraying the emotional complexities of family and community through the eyes of a precocious youngster. This is an affectionate, heartwarming tale.
When you read this you will know the outcome of the big game and I hope you really whooped it up and did not get sick on all the dips, chicken wings, chili, and various and sundry beverages. There is always next year, Oh, before I forget; happy Valentine's Day. SHALOM.