We arise this morning to a cool, cloudy and blustery day in Tucson. Well rested, we breakfast on the remains of last night’s pizza, some fruit and yogurt and the ever present coffee. By 10:00 we are saying goodbye to the pink painted Santa Catalina mountain scenery.
Shortly we are all packed and we load into the white, smooth riding Avalon and head north along I-10 towards Casa Grande and our luncheon appointment. The winds were howling crosswise against the car and the semi-trailers were swaying as they stormed past our vehicle. Tom, our designated driver, held steady and the rain held off. We arrived right on time in Casa Grande and located our destination, Creative Cafe, reputedly the best restaurant in Casa Grande.
The Creative Cafe has an interesting story; according to its menu, it was founded in 1987 and provides work and learning opportunities for mentally and physically disabled adults. This was quickly apparent when we had been seated: we were approached by a young lady, obviously disabled and so thin she would have fallen over if she ventured outside in the winds we encountered on the way to the restaurant. She ably attended to our drink requests. On the other side of our table, an attentive young Down syndrome man was quick with refills, napkins and an apron filled with straws to hand out.
Our Phoenix connection friends were only 30 minutes behind schedule, although with a ready set of excuses; it was raining heavily on the way south, the traffic along the I-10 corridor was horrific, and most importantly, neither had remembered their cellphones with the name of the restaurant they were headed towards, nor any method of contacting us to receive directions. Even if they had located a pay phone(?) they wouldn’t have had the foggiest idea of our phone numbers as that information too was stored in these devilishly ubiquitous electronic devices. It was miraculous that they were able to find us at all.
Once the six of us were gathered around our table, introductions were made (our two sets of hosts had not met previously) we ordered our sandwiches and then launched into conversation. The Nebraskans, four of them desert transplants and the two of us freeloading visitors, quickly found commonality, shared background, politics, and interests. The sandwiches we had ordered were excellent and the single lunch hour stretched to two. By the time we were ready to transfer the luggage from one car trunk to another, it was pouring rain. At least the rain was able to hide the tears as we offered heartfelt thanks and said our goodbyes to our Tucson hosts. Tom and Kevin headed back south in the rain and we headed north with Dell and Karen to our next few days of adventure. The rain finally stopped some 20 miles south of Phoenix and we coasted into Anthem, after a stop at Costco to load up on wine and soda water, now in the sunshine.
It has been two years since we were here in Phoenix; during the pandemic, we had cancelled plans in 2021 for a southern excursion. Many changes around the Sennentz homestead, new plantings, dirty Mesquite tree removal, but the pool and hot tub spa were still beckoning. We loaded our bags into our designated bedroom and settled in for some talk and rest.
Suddenly, we heard a strange noise and looked out the window. Hail was pouring down, splashing in the pool, bouncing on the patio deck and piling up! A strange phenomenon in the desert. The temperature was dropping and Dell went out with sheets and blankets to throw some protection over the more tender plants in anticipation of a predicted overnight frost.
Dell threw some steaks on the barbecue, Karen prepared some Yukon Gold potatoes and steamed broccoli, and we had a leisurely dinner. We settled in to watch the PBS Newshour, then fell into binge watching a Jack Reacher television series. After three episodes, we finally called a halt and trundled off to bed at a reasonable 10:30 PM. Sleep was quick and deep.
