Tucson Rain is not an aftershave.

The problem with exclaiming about rain in Tucson is that everyone in Tucson already knows, and everyone somewhere else doesn't care. In the desert, where you're snuggled up next to creosote bushes, rain smells great. I mean, GREAT.

The downside to three days of clouds is that our solar panels - already taxed by short winter days - are begging for Ecuador. Because our storage capacity is adequate, we still have plenty of power. The batteries just aren't topping off every day like they do in the summer.


We met Jo from Mom's Little Run Away and the Tin Can Cabin for lunch at Coyote Pause Café. It was great to meet you, Jo! We enjoyed our lunch and conversation, and she led us astray into the local artist's consignment shop. My wallet was saved only by feeling faint and needing to sit on the cowboy boot try-on chair, which was far from all the jewelry I was putting my eyeballs on.

Here is a picture I stole outright from Jo:

I mean, I SAW the same rainbow - isn't that close enough? Fine. Go over and tell her what a knavess I am. And, what a cool shot it is.

Yesterday we needed to stop for some Three Dollar Charles and other consumable products. We got sidetracked by this description:

Regan, you adorable single wastrel! Turn around and LOOK AT THE CHUCK!