Francesca and I crashed for a few hours at Sarah’s. Blurry eyed, we left Sara’s as the sun was rising in order to make it back to the RocknW for feeding and A.M. chores. Staying up last night to the wee hours of the morning reminded me of my youthful years when cousins, friends and I would dance all night long to new wave, glam and punk rock beats at bars and fetish clubs at the fringes of many a city. Only now I’ve traded in my glam rock glimmering baubles for cowgirl rhinestones. This girl embraces her “inner bling!”
On the way home, we drove down Haskell Avenue in Willcox. Franscesca pointed out a seven foot clown figure in the middle of a field with high weeds on the left. I turned the SUV around. What was the story?
The story was that this was an abandoned putt-putt golf course. Besides the clown figure there were other putt-putt destinations. The two that immediately caught my attention was a huge cowboy boot and a teepee a few feet away from that. I placed, photographed and documented #113 in the teepee. I stepped carefully around cow dung and did the same with #114 in the cowboy boot.
I got back into the SUV started the motor and turned around back on to Haskell Avenue. At this point of the morning, all Francesca and I could think about was breakfast. We stopped at the first open restaurant in town. We walked in, dirty cowboy boots and wearing last night’s clothing, and found ourselves a table. After we got our coffee, we took big sips and smiled. We reminisced over last night’s adventures and reviewed our plans for today. Life is good. Sometime at bit too early in the day – but good!