shenaniganswithleannagainwebdotme
Meandering through life until the brakes go out then hold on and enjoy the ride!
Eating breakfast in Ranch county and “never met a stranger ” G admires this guy’s suspenders. 
Mr DH proceeds to tell him exactly how they are made.
He says to go to the thrift store and get yourself a woman’s bra. They have the best eleastic. When I laugh he turns to me and says emphatically “They really do”.
Finally in the end DH points to me “she can help you”. He picks up his 2 cups of coffee (one for him and one for momma) and proudly walks away showing off the fancy suspenders he made.
Wow what a spectacular experience! We were treated to a luxurious stay at Rincon Creek Ranch for my niece’s wedding.
I must say the beauty and serenity of this place is nothing short of magical.
What they call “casitas” are beautifully furnished one and two bedroom homes.
Each Casita is different and a work of art.
Since my family was staying in the other casitas, I was able to visit them all and even picked up a few decorating ideas! Here are some interior views!
The views are spectacular here as it borders the Saguaro National Park Wilderness Area.
Then there are the Arizona skies which never disappoint as they provide the most beautiful sunsets and sunrises from our front porch view top of the hill view.
To top it off the proprietors Gretchen and Bill are beyond hospitable.
There are special touches everywhere such as a luxurious air bubble tub complete with four choices of bubble bath, thick bathrobes, candles and lighters hanging on pretty ribbons. The kitchen equipment is fully stocked and there was even basket of fresh eggs in the refrigerator!
On to the wedding. There are many special touches with the ranch as a beautiful backdrop.
Everywhere one looks there is something special and unique to see!
Rincon Creek Ranch was a much needed retreat. The family was still feeling the loss of our patriarch two weeks prior so the relaxing reflective atmosphere was extremely healing.
For me, well, I took the time to enjoy all that Arizona nature was showing off that weekend and thought my Dad may have had something to do with it after all.
Because of Rincon Creek Ranch I was able to celebrate my niece’s special day knowing that is what my dad would have wanted for his loved ones. It’s just that kind of place. Healing, romantic, fun, delightful, and very special. I highly recommend finding time or occasion to stay at this wonderful Ranch!
More fun below:
What a great experience!
I was electrocuted in Mexico. Shocking?
Not if you know me. It could have ended badly but I channel Wile E. Coyote regularly so I just went with it. I wish someone had filmed it so I could see the cartoon I picture in my head – my skeleton blinking while my hair stands on end and a loud buzzing noise. After it was over I kept looking up for a piano or an anvil to be speeding toward my head from above.
The Electrocution: I was standing at the rear of the RV washing sand off my feet reached out and grabbed the ladder for balance. The ladder sent 117 volts through me for about 6 seconds. All I kept thinking was let it go, let it go LET IT GO…which I did. Now that damn song is stuck in my head. Perhaps forever, who knows with electric shock.
This is the culprit. There is a beautiful view from this angle. Looks in code right?
I see my friends come running while I lay in the dirty puddle of water and am truly embarrassed. This is way too much real life attention for me. I am fine and now I keep thinking get up, get up GET UP! Which I do and notice a cramp in my foot is gone!
The cure for foot cramps is ELECTROCUTION! Who Knew?
It’s been 3 days now and the new thing I learned about electrocuting myself was that is not the just the voltage but the length of time. (Good information to have if you are standing in a puddle of water holding on to an electrified piece of metal) Luckily I didn’t hold on long enough for burns but the tingling stayed. It did effect the part of my brain that won’t allow me to sleep and I relive the event in my dreams. I need a just need a new dream catcher, this one is fried.
Update: I was just informed that one must die to be electrocuted, so I must correct myself that it was an electrical shock (because one must be accurate). Apparently. Unless you’re Bill Murray
Tonight we are crispy from hanging out at home by the pool. Neither of us wants to cook so we are ordering a pizza. We remember that just a few weeks ago we were in pizza heaven in Italy and started scrolling through the pictures. Found this gem:
Yes she is making a very large pizza with French Fried Potatoes on top MMMMhmmm. (Sling blade voice). We didn’t buy souvenirs on our trip. We decided before we went we would take a lot of pictures instead. Scanning through them now bring back the feelings, the smells, the unique sounds. Some of the choices the artists made for their statues make one wonder what they were thinking.
I wonder why many warriors are portrayed naked. Personally if I was going into battle I would want my soft bits covered. Apparently later on when sensibilities became more conservative, some of the boy parts were broken off. SUPPOSEDLY to hide them and protect young minds. Personally I think they were taken as souvenirs. In any case those that were left were covered with leaves by a more conservative crowd. Also NOT protection. Perhaps that’s why the artist decided to insert something different into his sculpture below: 
Just a guy in a sheet. Is that a fish?? In any case we enjoyed the subtle way the marble was molded to make the fabric seem translucent. I really like to get close and look at the hands and feet. Artists spent a lot of time on tendons, veins, and nails.
Nowadays we get this:
No leaf on that apron.
Back to the pizza, I loved the thin crust veggie covered pizza of Italy. I’m ready to go back. G still likes the ol Meat Lovers hand tossed (but no fries on top for us).
This charming part of Knoxville an eclectic mix of art, architecture, culture and culinary treats. Just meandering through the square watching people as we go, smells of the various restaurants mingling together, is a treat.
Each time I visit Tennessee, a visit to Tomato Head here in Market Square is on my list. They really have a knack of creative combinations with fresh ingredients.
Such a beautiful state and so much to do outdoors. Enjoying my short visit (leaving wee hours of the morning tomorrow). I will return!
As promised I have finally figured out how to get the video our of my camera! Here is the drive around the Arc De Triomphe as viewed from the top of a Double Decker bus. The bicycles and the scooters are BRAVE!
It’s not what you think. All we did was ask directions.
Traveling like we are teenagers it’s easy to overdo it. Venice is a walking city. We logged in average 10.2 miles a day (according to my health app). Therefore on the 2nd day G’s back froze up. We needed a doctor so naturally we asked a pharmacist.
Back to WHY we were being perp walked. (Yes, perp walked. Five abreast very slowly as in I didn’t think a human could walk so slowly). We continued along the sidewalk between all the busy shops and the busy café. The 3 police men were packing rapid fire machine guns held diagonally across their chest and wearing oh-so-cute little monkey hats. Their eyes scanned the perimeter as they joked in Italian (surely at our expense). Perhaps we should have been embarrassed by the full on police escort but we ate it up and played right into it as people stared and then looked away quickly when we made eye contact. ANYway, they dropped us off at the doctor which was (in true Italian signage) at the complete opposite end of the square from where the sign with the arrow and a blue cross that said clinic.
The doctors asked a few questions, observed him and then just gave him a shot in the back. We wish that we knew what it was because it cured him. The entire visit including the shot cost six euro. All around the best $6.76 we ever spent.
One of the French Border Patrol agents asked me why he doesn’t see many Americans traveling. He said “are they scared?” Feeling instantly defensive and panicky and that SOMEhow I am now a representative of the United States. (My brain flashes to Bruce Springsteen’s jeans, red bandanna and “Born in the USA” playing in my head) I answer too quickly. “NO, not scared. Well maybe it’s the economy.” He scoffs and says “zee econoMEE is bad all over” as he pounds my passport with his stamp.
I leave his station quickly as we are running to catch a flight. We are not running because we didn’t leave enough time (We were 4 hours early) but because the French make their airport rules up as they go along, change them at will, and take as many breaks as possible.
Once on the plane I processed the incident, got a little mad, and thought of all sorts of things I could have said to defend my fellow Americans.
Unfortunately he is right. Americans were few and far between with the majority encountered in England. I am wondering, are we scared? I think about how many people are shocked that we travel to Mexico even with the warnings. (I always tell them that statistically you have more chance being shot in Tucson than in Rocky Point).Then I think about a radio newscast we heard in London where they said “gun violence is double what it was last year” as they went on to describe 4 shootings to date in London. Yep, FOUR. Double last year, so two.
I CAN tell you that I appreciated the optimism and polite manners of the British, the “enjoy life” attitude I felt in France, and the pride and sense of family I felt in Italy. We were soaking in thousands of years of culture and identity.
What is the American identity?
We were told before we left not to stand out as American so not to make yourself a target for those who hate us. We couldn’t have been more obvious with G’s big black hat, dinner plate belt buckle and boots. A lot of people even guessed Arizona.
We had good luck with many helpful citizens of all nationalities and were beginning to think the warnings were just our government/media or both trying to put fear in us again. Only one time I felt uncomfortable at the waiting room of Ciampino airport in Rome.
There were two very long lines for passport checks. Many women had head wraps and long gowns but their faces were exposed. G always plays with the children in line everywhere we go. These children did not smile at him and mommas quickly reprimanded the kids for looking/peeking at G. Simultaneously in front of me, an older woman was holding a place for her family in the our line while the rest of her family spread out between our line and the line next to us. She would wander over to the family and then when our line was shorter, back to our line. I let her back in and smiled. Dead eyes. No smile. She did it several more times and each time I conceded. I noticed a rich rust color on the tips of her fingers and marveled at the intricacy of her scarf as I nodded, smiled warmly, and stepped back to give her and a gigantic suitcase enough room. We all made it through just fine and all flights gathered in a hot secured waiting room that was lacking in seating. G was breaking the code of the children and soon a few were smiling and playing with him per usual. A flight was called and the families lined up to board. One little boy, who had been allowed to shake G’s hand, waved goodbye and his father smiled. I saw my old woman from the line again, we locked eyes and I smiled. She ALMOST smiled back as the corners of her mouth started to turn up, caught herself and looked away. Who knows from where the hate I saw came from. It could be well deserved for all I know. I do know I am a proud American now more than ever. Proud that G wore his hat, boots and Harley shirts. G who isn’t ever afraid of anything and knew this BEFORE we left. Smart man that G.
Fast paced Rome for a few days. We found a sanctuary in our tiny boutique hotel located off of the Moses Fountain. It was very hard to find. Faded flat sign and this is the door. 
It turned out great! Only a few rooms and a patio where we ate breakfast.
Here is the breakfast view as of a beautiful church facade as the city woke up. Moses Fountain Hotel.
Because the church was right across the street and not famous at all, we didn’t think of it as a destination. We meandered over and saw this…
WOW Rome is full of surprises. The marble door was about 8″ thick rose colored and streaked with white an about 10 feet tall. It was carved out of a single piece of marble.
Cooled off and ready to wander down to the main attractions. Time to explore. Lots to see today.
Paletine hill was my favorite place on the planet. The place where Alexander built his mansion-palace. Now just ruin of terra cotta, once covered with white marble.
Imagining the white fortress on the hill and the power it exhaulted wasn’t hard. Just walking up to it was challenging.
We spent quiet time Imagining what this area looked like during Alexander’s time. We discussed the monumental amount of human beings that worked on these structures creating layers and layers of architecture.
The view from here is spectacular.
Water from the original aquifer still flows and is potable. Actually it is sweet and cold. We filled our bottles up many times from these free springs around Rome.
I was very disappointed with the Vatican museum. Well I think it was just because of the thousands of people moving through at once, like cattle. St Peter’s Basilica was jam packed and hot. However, the art the Catholic Church owns is magnificent and worth enough to feed the world several times over. Of course many thousands of people still pay to see the treasures so they are still profiting. The commercialism of the religion really annoyed me.
It took around two hours to complete the walk through the museum. Art, map rooms,mosaic flooring, gardens, painted and gilded ceilings, and Egyptian carvings,mummies and art to rival the Louvre. It is a wonder to see…
Oh and you can’t take a picture of Michelangelo’s “God and Adam” on the ceiling at all. There is a guard at the door yelling “NO PICTURES” in several languages as only the outer river of people (about 3 or 4 abreast) are moving in a circle around at least a thousand people standing in the center of the Basilica. Everyone is looking up, not moving, TAKING PICTURES and selfies with their I Phones.
I did not take a picture of the ceiling. This is me being good:
Lots of tiny cars and thousands of scooters fly by on every road. Crossing the cobbled streets is a challenge and feels like running through the ribbon at the end of a race when one reaches the opposite sidewalk.
We took the hop on hop off bus to the sights and were amazed how such large vehicles get around on the narrow streets.
The old and the new reside together. The cute little truck below opens turns into a snack bar.
I did find the picture of what our archaeologist guide called her “baby” . It is part of a horse statue she discovered and then uncovered below the Colosseum. She described the excitement and awe she felt as she brushed dirt away from the marble, revealing the statue’s parts, a leg, a rear flank of a horse.
We meandered down too the Trevi Fountain and had a gelato. Per tradition, we threw in our coin ensuring a return to Roma someday.
After reading the description of thousands of statues and art we just started making up our own .
Laughed my ass off…
Karaoke bar on the way home from a beheading.
“Momma, he just fell. I swear I didn’t push him.”
Then there was the priest in the wine cabinet.
Then there was this light bulb saving energy. I’m sure it makes a difference.
shenaniganswithleannagainwebdotme 