It's nice to come home again after being in Tucson all week. Somehow home feels extra special after being away from both the place and the family.
I enjoy going to Tucson; the change of pace and focus of work is nice, I've gotten to know some folks there, and the food is phenomenal. But I'm kind of kicking myself that I didn't take more pictures this time. Even though July is about the hottest time of year there, it's also the wettest, so the desert is starting to bloom and the scenery is really quite pretty. I guess it's a testament to how much I enjoy the local cuisine that the only picture I took was of the Cow Palace.

That was Tuesday night's fair. One-pound T-bone. Not bad, but I've had better. Monday was Manuel's in Green Valley, my favorite Mexican restaurant. Fajitas. Very good. Wednesday I met Court and Melanie at a place in Tucson called
Neo. Very flavorful Malaysian with some Chinese and Indian influence. Interesting. Thursday was baby-back ribs at the Silver Saddle steakhouse. The open-pit mesquite grill makes the whole place smell fabulous. I went with a couple of colleagues - one Chinese and one Indian. The Chinese guy had steak. The Indian fellow, chicken. When I got home this afternoon we went to a little Mexican restaurant in Peoria that we had not tried yet. It tasted like Mexican frozen dinners. Very disappointing
One thing I wish I could have taken a picture of was how pretty the farmland around Peoria looked from the air. From a couple thousand feet up the corn fields looked like patches of thick green shag carpet, the stripes and patterns like the tracks of a giant vacuum contrasting with the dense, ragged outline of the forests that fill the numerous and meandering drainages into the river valley. I waved as our little town slid under the belly of the plane, and was able to pick out Barry and Sarah's house sitting all by itself in the corn and beans.
As you get towards Chicago, the smooth fields give way to the jumbled crust of subdivisions, highways, and high rises. The endless stretches of humanity never ceases to amaze me. When we flew over Lake Michigan there were hundreds of little sailboats out on the water. I'd never seen that before and it was kind of neat.
Tucson was hot. I think it was over 100 degree every day. And humid too. Not Midwest humid or Florida humid, but certainly not like the dry Idaho heat. Then the late afternoon thunder storms would toss buckets of water here and there and the temperature would drop 25 degrees in a matter of minutes. Every day. By morning the sky was clear and the sun was pushing the thermometer past 85 again. They call it the monsoon season. Strange.
Anyway, I'd probably better quite. I'm glad to be safe at home and I'm looking forward to sleeping in my own bed.