Saying Goodbye to Arizona

Everyone I know seems to have gone on a vacation lately.  One good friend spent a week in Florida, while another friend, my Tai Chi/lunch buddy, spent last week lounging on the beach in the Bahamas.  And Daughter and her husband just came back from a week in paradise, i.e., Hawaii.  As for me, a couple of trips to the grocery store were the highlights of my week:)

Yes, I admit to being just a wee bit jealous.  Usually I get to travel somewhere between the end of January and mid-March, but not this year. Mr. P and I had tentatively planned to visit Daughter and Son-in-Law this March as we often do, taking in some Cubs' spring training games and soaking up some Arizona sun.  But it was not meant to be.  Just before Christmas, Daughter received a promotion and was being transferred. By mid-January they had packed their belongings and headed--with the two granddogs in the car--to Houston, Texas. Since the move, Daughter has been so busy settling in and traveling for her new job that a visit from us just didn't make sense this spring.

Looking back, I am so glad now that I made the decision to visit Daughter and Son-in-law back in November.  It gave me a  chance to spend some time with them, especially since I hadn't seen them since their wedding reception last June, and to meet my new granddog Eddie.

That's Ed trailing behind his big brother Bear after a hike through Papago Park on the southern edge of Phoenix.  Ed is a much livelier pug compared to the late Odie, who was more laid-back.   Both Ed and Bear have lived all their lives in Arizona, so they're used to the heat, but I'm not sure how they will adjust to Houston's much more humid climate.

A trip to Arizona is never complete, of course, without a visit to the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix. Having toured the garden on every visit to Daughter over the past four years, it's become a familiar place to me--I know where to find the Butterfly Pavilion, the Wildflower Trail, and, of course, the gift shop without any guidance.  I remember my first trip here: the desert flora seemed like alien life forms to me.  But my tours of the DBG have helped me to understand much more about the environment of the Sonoran Desert and to recognize many of the plants.

Thanks to the DBG, I can now distinguish between the iconic Saguaro . . .

. . .  and the equally huge Cardon cactus.

Nor do I need a tag to identify the lovely Baja Fairy Duster, which always seems to be in bloom no matter the time of year I visit.

Still, there is always something new to be learned; this time I was on a mission to find the name of some plants growing in Daughter's backyard.  It didn't take me long to find several specimens of the plant, an Ocotillo, a cactus indigenous to the Sonoran desert and commonly seen from California to western Texas. It's a deciduous cactus, so it wasn't particularly attractive during this November visit, but later research informed me that in spring it produces beautiful red blooms that are especially attractive to hummingbirds.

Plant specimens may be the main attraction at the Desert Botanical Garden, but they're not the only interesting things to see. I knew something was up when I walked in the entrance and saw this huge praying mantis standing guard. The Garden often hosts art exhibits, particularly sculptures on display throughout the garden.  My favorite from the past was "The Nature of Glass," an exhibit during the winter of  '08-09 which featured the works of  Dale Chihuly,  which you can read about here, if you wish.
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This time the Garden was hosting the exhibit "Big Bugs," a collection of larger than life insects crafted from all natural materials. 

This lady beetle, for example, was made primarily from bent willow with black walnut used for its head and spots.  A mere 150 pounds, it wasn't quite as imposing as the mantis in the earlier photo which was 17 feet tall and weighed in at 1,200 pounds!

One of my favorite areas to visit within the garden is the Butterfly Pavilion.  Usually, it doesn't open until March, but I was lucky this time--a guide informed me that the Pavilion would be open because a shipment of Monarchs had just arrived.  The butterflies are flown in from a supplier in Florida, encased in waxed-paper-like envelopes kept at a cool temperature.  I arrived just in time to be handed a paper envelope, along with other eager participants.  We opened the envelopes carefully . . .

Once the butterflies felt the warm air, they revived and made their escape!

It was truly a breathtaking sight to see dozens of them flying about.

Eventually, they found plenty of bright blossoms to provide some nourishment after their long trip.

Cacti, art, butterflies--the Desert Botanical Garden is the perfect place to spend a delightful morning in Phoenix.  Little did I know at the time that this might very well have been my last visit there, so I'm glad I had the chance to see it again.  I'll miss visiting Arizona every year, but I'm sure Houston, Texas must have some interesting gardens as well--I'm already looking forward to discovering new places to see next fall!

December Book Review: More Than a Mystery

I can't believe it has been four months since I last participated in the monthly Book Review Club.  I could blame my absence on spending so much time in the garden, a little traveling, or other activities, all of which are true.  But it's just as true that although I've read more books than I can remember in the past few months, few have made any kind of lasting impression on me.  That is, until I discovered Kate Atkinson.  After reading When Will There Be Good News? a few months ago, I was hooked and recently finished the book that followed it.  Finally, a book worth sharing with you!

Tracy Waterhouse, a retired police officer, is making her rounds as a security guard for a shopping mall when she sees a small child being dragged along and verbally abused by her mother.  Tracy rushes to help the poor little girl and impulsively offers the mother money to "buy" the child.

Private investigator Jackson Brodie, also a retired police detective, is once again a single man after his last wife left him, taking most of his savings with her. But he takes on an unexpected responsibility,  when he sees a thug swearing at a Border Collie and takes the dog after punching out its abusive owner.

Strange beginnings for a mystery novel, but Started Early, Took My Dog is not your typical mystery, and Kate Atkinson is not one of your typical writers of detective fiction. Even the title is quirky, a line taken from a poem by Emily Dickinson.

Started Early is the third in a series of four novels featuring private investigator Jackson Brodie.  In this novel he is more interested in finding himself and wandering about the English countryside--now with a dog at his side--than he is in the case he's accepted--finding the birth parents of a young woman adopted some thirty years ago whose adoptive parents emigrated to New Zealand where she now lives. But when Jackson discovers he is being followed and when someone tries to kill him, he begins to think there is more to this case than a simple matter of identification.

Tracy Waterhouse, unattached and resigned to living out the rest of her life eating take-out suppers alone in front of the television, finds her life turned upside down after taking young Courtney. Determined to provide Courtney a better life than she must have had with her prostitute mother, Tracy buys everything she thinks the little girl needs, including a fairy costume complete with wand that Courtney wears everywhere, and  she begins to plan trips to the zoo and the park.  She begins to worry, though, that the little girl's real mother might want her back and that buying a child is not exactly sanctioned by the law.  She realizes that establishing a new identity and moving far away where no one will question their relationship is the only answer.

When she bought the kid she made a covenant with the devil.  She could have someone to love but it would cost her everything.  She thought of the Little Mermaid, every step torture, a pain like the piercing of sharp swords.  Just to be human, to love.

Kid dipped her wand in Tracy's direction.  Granting a wish or casting a spell, hard to tell which.  Courtney had knitted herself into Tracy's soul.  What would happen if she was ripped away?

This was love.  It didn't come free, you paid in pain.  Your own.  But then nobody ever said love was easy.  Well, they did, but they were idiots.

Typical of many contemporary mystery writers, Atkinson alternates the stories of Brodie and Waterhouse along with two other characters, one of them Tillie, an aging actress. Tillie witnesses the same scene between mother and daughter as Tracy, but in the early stages of dementia, she is so confused she can't remember where she put her purse or why she is looking for a policeman.  How all these storylines fit together piques the reader's curiosity, and Atkinson skillfully weaves the threads of the plot together as the novel progresses. 

Critics have praised Atkinson's writing and often remark that her novels are more literary fiction than detective fiction. Although this series is labeled as the "Jackson Brodie" novels, other characters figure just as prominently in the book and are often more engaging. I like to think of her books as the thinking woman's mysteries.  Her voice is unique and compelling, blending the characters' thoughts with literary allusions, keen observations on society, and wit in the face of tragedy. Unlike other mysteries which I often read at a fast pace in order to find out "whodunit," I found myself stopping to savor some of her prose:

The dog scampered by his side all the way back to Bella Vista in a state of near delirium.  At the site of the train crash two years ago Jackson's life had been saved by a girl administering CPR.  Now he had been saved by the loyalty of a dog.  The less innocent he was, the more innocent his saviors became.  There was some kind of exchange at work in the universe that he didn't understand.

New granddog Eddie was found living on the streets and taken in by a pug rescue society.  He now leads a pampered life with my daughter and son-in-law, enjoying long walks in the park and watching football games--yes, that is a Chicago Bears jersey he's wearing!

Started Early, Took My Dog is a story of redemption and resiliency, of unlikely heroes and characters haunted by their past.  These are ordinary people struggling to survive in a world full of sadness, and trying to make it a better place, one child or one dog at a time.

A damaged child that could still sing could be rescued, couldn't she? Could be taken to pantomimes and circuses, zoos and petting farms and Disneyland.  Wasn't going to end up hanging around Sweet Street West looking for business. Chevaunne.  She could have been rescued once.  They could all have been rescued, all the Chevaunnes, all the Michael Braithwaites, all the starved and beaten and neglected.  If there'd been enough people to rescue them.

If you're looking for a Christmas gift for that hard-to-buy for person on your list, a book is always a perfect fit.  Whether that person is a mystery-lover or a gardener or a history buff, you're sure to find something that suits them.  And there's nothing better to give a child than the gift of the love of reading.  You might want to check out the other reviews at host Barrie Summy's for some ideas.  As for me, I hope Santa takes the hint and puts another Kate Atkinson book in my stocking!

The Poisoned Pen Bookstore--photo from Wikipedia.

Author's Disclaimer--No compensation of any kind was received for this review.  I review only books I like and purchase my own copy or check them out from the library.  This book was purchased at one of my favorite bookstores, The Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale, Arizona. An independent bookstore that I'm happy to report is still thriving despite the economy, it is known for its collection of mysteries and Southwest literature, and it hosts many, many book signings by famous authors from all over.  If you're ever in the Phoenix area, it's definitely worth a visit!