Hey, everybody! Well, it's been almost two months since my last entry (I'm getting good at this procrastination thing!), so I thought I ought to sign in and catch you up on things. One of the major events lately was the return of my friend Alexa for a personal show at Talgar's Restaurant in Alpine. Being included in Artwalk/Gallery Night a while back was big news enough, but to have your very own show is extremely exciting. And a nice, artsy setting, too, I might add. Here is Alexa and her patron of the arts/person responsible for putting all this together, Betty Gaddis Yndo. They both look dressed for the part, don't they?
As I didn't get any real good shots of the works on the wall (I'm starting to slip a little), I did get a nice shot of the spread for this little soirée. I almost made myself sick on Talgar's green sauce and homemade flour tortilla chips. OHMIGOD!!! Truly manna from Heaven! (Their fish tacos, as I found out later, are to die for!)
The next day, Alexa and my friends Jennifer and Romaldo and I headed to the Redford area for a hike to a secluded little waterfall. The way was fraught with peril at slipping into moss-infested waters, but all made it there and back again without incident.
And here's a shot of the moss-infested waters I was talking about, just so you'll know I wasn't making this stuff up. ("It's a desert, Doug! How can there be moss?")
And here's some more stuff I didn't make up. Actually, if you look at the rock formation closely, you can see the high-water mark indicating that a lot more water used to flow through here. Amazing, huh?
And at last we're here at the waterfall. It's hard to believe that such a moist and lush place exists out in the middle of a sun-baked area such as this, but it happens more often than you'd think. 
Everywhere around here were longspur columbine (just budding) as well as a host of other flowers, mostly yellow in color. This shot of a yellow rock nettle turned out to be one of my best flower shots to date, although I found out its leaves pack a pretty hefty wallop. It looks like some variety of buttercup, but don't let that fool you. It did me.
Well, before we move along (you can catch the entire show at my "Alexa's Back In Town" gallery at http://highroad.smugmug.com), here's a shot of Alexa after capturing what I'm sure will be her next show-stopping, award-winning photograph. Okay, fast-forward to present day . . .
Oh, BABY!!! You never know just what you'll find in the little town of Alpine, do you? I came across this window display while walking to do some errands while Pepe (he's my very own truck now -- I just made the last payment!) got his oil changed and had his other precious bodily fluids checked. Wo! I couldn't believe my eyes. And talk about just the right light, too. On my way back to the shop, I just had to pass by and check it out again, but the lighting at that point was all wrong. Those fleeting moments . . .
Tearing myself away from the window display, I found this scene a little further down the street. Too bad no one was making use of it. (Yeah, like you, Doug!) I'll have to do that someday.
One of the best things about that outdoor café scene was this old (I think) red Schwinn bicycle, standing proudly at the curb. Old or retro, you don't see these things much anymore in this age of high-tech bicycles. This was really nice.
Perhaps one of the best things to come out of this trip into town was the acquisition of my new best friend -- this pothos ivy I obtained at Morrison's True Value. I'd recently watched Leon: The Professional and found his love of his little plant quite touching, and it made me realize I don't have a single living thing in my place, which is unusual for me. So, when I went outside to Morrison's lawn and garden area and saw this little guy hanging up there bleaching himself in the unrelenting sun (the scrim covering wasn't really doing its job, but it helped), I just couldn't resist rescuing him and bringing him home. We're both a lot happier now. It doesn't take much sometimes.So, gang, I guess that's about it for now. Hopefully, it won't be two months until my next entry, but you know me. Until next time . . .
