
Me and Grogu. I feel like I’m just getting started, like Grogu and I’ve got powers, but they’re not fully developed. Ever feel like that? Yeah, I can now say I’m 72 years old. As of today, October 13th. That seems like a lot of numbers but compared to, say, a Galapagos tortoise I’m still a baby. Maybe middle aged, at least.
Yet, I don’t feel like a baby and I guess that’s a good thing. Hmmm, maybe not. Let me think about that. OK. I thought and I’ve decided that the jury’s still out so I’ll get back to you on that. In the meantime I’m trying to ring out every last drop of life that I can while I still have the chance. It’s not so easy because the hum drum of life demands attention, so we have an uneasy truce. Ok, I’ll do errands or the rehab project for you and then can we go to explore the planet? Fair trade?
Yesterday we explored and happened upon a rare treasure. We drove over to the Chiricahua Mountains to see where Johnny Ringo, the famous outlaw from Tombstone days, was buried. The legend has it that he, aged 32, went up on Turkey Creek, sat down under an old oak tree, put a Colt .45 to his temple and pulled the trigger. Nobody knows exactly why he did it but there was scuttlebutt that he had threatened suicide many times before he actually did it. People lots younger have ended their lives so it seems plausible. He was seated in the crotch of the old Oak tree, and he couldn’t have picked a prettier spot.


After we paid our respects, we decided to drive farther up Turkey Creek Road. It was a pretty good gravel road, which is rare in Arizona when you get off the pavement, and as we proceeded it was looking more and more like California terrain. Deer bounded out in front of us, and we crossed four one lane bridges. Turkey Creek was flowing full of water coming from who knows where in this arid land. I must admit I do miss many things about California, so it was nice to see how the area resembled California so much.

Looks very much like California to me.

Look closely and you’ll see a deer smack dab in the middle on the fence line. You’ll see its ears first.

Turkey Creek is full of water which is weird in this dry landscape. There must be springs farther up.
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Today Marty is giving me a nice little present of not having to cook! I cook 2 meals every day. We don’t cook breakfast. That’s cereal or coffee or toast. But for lunch and dinner, I get tired of same old same old or having to come up with a new dish. Getting a break on my birthday is a nice present.
What does a birthday mean? I think it means almost nothing. It’s just the march of time as measured on a calendar, and does it seem to you that time is speeding up as we get older? There’s the old saying, “Once you get over-the-hill to the other side, you speed up”. This seems very true to me.
So, as they said in Lord of the Rings, (and I paraphrase) it only matters what you do with the time you are given.
What are we going to do today?
I enjoy your reflections and words if wisdom, Renee! Thank you for sharing.
You’re welcome! Thank you!
I hope your day was wonderful! I sure envy you living such an AZ life! Happy birthday!
Excellent post as always, Birthday Girl! Johnny Ringo I had forgotten. We’ve been to Tombstone, the ‘town too tough to die’. We once drove the Ghost Town Trail in the dead of night during the gas crisis in the 70’s and running on empty the whole way. Made it there with a gallon to spare. White knuckles to be sure. Enjoy and embrace each day as it comes, birthday or otherwise. And keep posting please. –Tom
Thanks Tom! That drive would make a good story. Where is the Ghost Town Trail? Is it here in AZ? We won’t do it in the dead of night running on empty LOL
Yeah, maybe a barely two-lane gravel road, east of Tombstone. Can’t remember where we were driving from, but our destination was Tombstone. Needed a cold Sarsasprilla (sp?) soda the next day to unwind from that trip…!
We’ve been on this Trail! Didn’t know it was called Ghost Town Trail. Tombstone to Gleeson to Courtland to Pearce. Sarsaparilla – you almost got it!