The Wild Wild West

Hey hey!

Currently, we're in Flagstaff for a golf tournament for Jason's work.

(sweet job, huh?)

No, he does not golf for a profession, but he sure does love it!

I'm not really sure where to start with this blog...

so I guess I'll just start typing and see what comes out!

We're staying at the Little America in Flagstaff,

which is the hotel of my childhood.

I'm pretty sure my first experience in a hotel was here,

because every time I smell a slightly musty towel I think of this place!

You know that smell of hotel towels?

Like they've been washed, but mostly just soaked in diluted detergent

then dried in an old dryer?

Charming, no?

So we're here for a couple of days, which is much welcomed

because the last few weeks have been a blur of work at the nuclear plant,

and lots of beautiful (and very hot) summer weddings!

Which, for me, means lots of wedding videos.

I'm a little behind on my editing.

Also, I was stung by one of these yesterday...

Yes, that is me holding it.

Just kidding! Are you crazy?

Who is this person?

The story:

I stumble out of bed at 5 AM

rush into the bathroom to start getting ready for work

and spot a scorpion chilling on the ground in front of the vanity.

The dilemma:

The vanity has an open base, and if I startle the scorpion,

it will hide beneath the vanity,

only to plot an attack on my foot as I get ready for the day.

And foot stings are the worst.

So I need to sneak attack, and fast.

I look around for a weapon,

but nothing I see will do.

So my 5 AM mind (not too sharp yet)

decides the only way to kill this intruder is with a wad of toilet paper.

Seriously, Alexis?

This scorpion was big, and toilet paper would definitely not protect my hand from its stinger.

But I did it anyway.

I grabbed the toilet paper, silently lowered myself down to its level,

and planted on it.

OUCH!

I was wounded. It was deep.

Hot poison was shooting up my right index finger,

and I felt it burning as it traveled through the veins of my hand,

into my forearm and up to my shoulder.

I made sure he was dead, then flung myself into our bed

where I writhed in pain and Jason surely thought I was dying.

He kept saying, "Is it going to your heart?! Do you need to go to the hospital?!"

Poor guy. He's not from around here.

So as I type this, I'm trying to avoid using my right index finger

because it's numb and probably will be for a few more days.

It's things like this that convince my darling husband that he really does live in what he likes to call,

"The Wild Wild West"

Every time we pass a cactus (or even better, hundreds of cacti), Jason admires it.

He'll make comments about its height, or how old it must be because of its many arms.

To be honest, I never really took much notice of the cacti before.

They were just there.

Jason has opened my eyes to their beauty,

 but what I appreciate even more than that is their personality.

They're so darn expressive!

^Here we have the "classic" saguaro.

These are the ones typically drawn by Arizona schoolchildren.

Two arms, looking powerful, wise and regal.

But there is so much more to the cactus!

I mean, just look at these characters.

^ Can you guess that animal? It's cactus charades!

^ Shhh. Meditating cactus.

^ Open-stall cactus restroom

 ^ Impersonator cactus

^ wanna be cactus... 

Jason has taught me to appreciate the desert like I never have before.

Try looking at something with "different eyes" this weekend.

You might be surprised at all the beauty you can find!