The Desert Hipster
It's true, and I'm ashamed, but tonight Steve and I went to the food truck roundup for dinner followed by a couple of beers at the neighbourhood bar (more on this later). And I took more pictures for my Instagram. I am a hopeless case.
Yesterday we had one of our fierce desert rains. This morning, Steve warned me to go grocery shopping as early as I could because more rain was in the forecast. I immediately drove down to Ina Road to buy foodstuffs. I stopped off at the big roadside shrine on the access road to take another few pictures of the Maximon statue because Andrew Chestnut, probably the best known author about Santa Muerte, had put some information about Maximon on FaceBook. I posted my photos to Instagram first, because I can forward from Instagram to FB.
I've been inspired by author Tammy Strobel of the blog Rowdy Kittens (http://www.rowdykittens.com) to take daily photos for Instagram. She lives in a Tiny House with her husband in northern California. The photos of "her morning view" have actually been published in a book by the same name. While I'm not going to take her idea of "morning view", the fact is that I see something neat here every single day, so I want to capture that.
Since the Food Truck Roundup was kicked out of the Red Rock Community Park by the Pulte HOA, Marilyn, who organizes it, removed it to the parking lot of Sally's Red Rock Bar. I'd passed Sally's many a time, but not had a chance to actually go in. It's an old converted gas station that looks like something out of a post-apocalyptic zombie game. Steve and I got our dinner at the Turkish food truck (the Canadians weren't there today) and went to the bar afterwards.
Sally is an old woman who reminds us of my Mexican grandma. She's owned the bar for about 47 years and it's only open on the weekends or by request. The place has two rooms and a pool table, and serves beer which was warm when we were there. Still, it's family owned and has plenty of stories attached to it.
That is something I've noticed here in Marana. Everybody has some kind of story, and they are more than happy to tell it to you. At the grocery store, the teenaged cashier was talking about her grandmothers who are Mexican and Iraqi respectively. This is a terrific place to live.
Yesterday we had one of our fierce desert rains. This morning, Steve warned me to go grocery shopping as early as I could because more rain was in the forecast. I immediately drove down to Ina Road to buy foodstuffs. I stopped off at the big roadside shrine on the access road to take another few pictures of the Maximon statue because Andrew Chestnut, probably the best known author about Santa Muerte, had put some information about Maximon on FaceBook. I posted my photos to Instagram first, because I can forward from Instagram to FB.
I've been inspired by author Tammy Strobel of the blog Rowdy Kittens (http://www.rowdykittens.com) to take daily photos for Instagram. She lives in a Tiny House with her husband in northern California. The photos of "her morning view" have actually been published in a book by the same name. While I'm not going to take her idea of "morning view", the fact is that I see something neat here every single day, so I want to capture that.
Since the Food Truck Roundup was kicked out of the Red Rock Community Park by the Pulte HOA, Marilyn, who organizes it, removed it to the parking lot of Sally's Red Rock Bar. I'd passed Sally's many a time, but not had a chance to actually go in. It's an old converted gas station that looks like something out of a post-apocalyptic zombie game. Steve and I got our dinner at the Turkish food truck (the Canadians weren't there today) and went to the bar afterwards.
Sally is an old woman who reminds us of my Mexican grandma. She's owned the bar for about 47 years and it's only open on the weekends or by request. The place has two rooms and a pool table, and serves beer which was warm when we were there. Still, it's family owned and has plenty of stories attached to it.
That is something I've noticed here in Marana. Everybody has some kind of story, and they are more than happy to tell it to you. At the grocery store, the teenaged cashier was talking about her grandmothers who are Mexican and Iraqi respectively. This is a terrific place to live.