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Kind of looks like "writing everyday" is quickly descending into "writing when the stars align." I should probably tell you about the great camping trip we had last weekend (it was great, the weather was nice, the company was awesome, and we sang songs around the campfire) or how we purchased a mosaic from Moses's stepmom that I am very, very excited about because it is beautiful, or how Garion has now lost both of his upper front teeth and it is super-cute. (When he lost the second tooth last week, he wanted me to call the dentist.)
But, instead I'm going to impart my more recent observations about Flagstaff, a town that a year and half on I am still loving (until it snows again and then I retract that statement.) Partly this post was inspired by the above picture, which I randomly found on my camera memory card while importing photos of the camping trip. It's a batch of home brew conjured up by my husband who is presently sporting the "lumberjack" look. Yes, that's right: Moses has grown a beard and is drinking beer. And not just drinking beer mind you, brewing beer. And brewing it well.
And I'm thinking that these are sure signs we've gone native. Or gone back to native (seeing as we are actually from here to begin with). And then I started thinking about all the other quirks of this place and how you know when you belong here:
-You start drinking beer and enjoying it. I think this must be a function the altitude--maybe it goes with the country music?
-You think hiking boots and flannel are chic and appropriate for all occasions.
-"Designer" brands are Patagonia and The North Face.
-Every cute guy you see, including your husband, has a beard.
-You see it's 35 freaking degrees outside and think "oh, good, I don't need the long running pants yet."
-You know its summer because you can wear the cotton sweater instead of the wool one.
-You know you're home because you can spell the pine trees.
-You hear awesome live bluegrass at the local brewery (where you are indulging your new-found beer habit) and watch some chick in a little running skirt and trail shoes (chic) dance with an old hippie dude who sports a flannel shirt and a beard that goes half way to his waist (cute).
-You feel really, really bad for people who have to live in Phoenix.
-You finally figure out the guy at "Late for the Train" looks so familiar because he's also the guy at "Babbitt's" and possibly was at Christmas dinner last year at your sister-in-law's parents' house.
-You are happy that your house is still 65 degrees at night and you haven't had to turn on the heat yet (going to try to make to Nov. 1st before turning on the furnance).
-You go woodcutting. You think this is fun.
-If you grew up here, you constantly see people you went to high school with and some times you really have to psych yourself up to leave the house because you know chances are good you're going to run into them.
-You have to buy cute boots to cope with winter. And then knee-high socks to wear with the boots.
-Your husband approves of the cute boots because he thinks they're kind of hot (and really what is up with that? What in the world does he think I'm going to wear them with?)