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The funny thing is when I think back over the past few months my thoughts are filled with our house: toiling in the yard, working on the house, painting, minor repairs and trip after trip to the home improvement stores. Yet when I flip through the pictures I realize that isn’t the complete story. Looking back through the photographs it becomes clear that April, May, and June were filled with travels, family, and friends.

I kicked off April from afar—I was fortunate enough to spend Spring Break back in Ohio with family. It was my opportunity to get back there to meet the newest member of the clan, young Harper. What a wonderful trip—the weather was warm and sunny (Mother Nature’s joke on me, since I did not pack any shorts) and it was splendid to see everyone. I was even roped into helping out the Easter Bunny—who was running late that morning—and had a smashing time hiding the colorful treasures all over my cousin’s yard. Might even be safe to say I had more fun than the seekers. Though I might not be rehired for that gig since the first egg was found by the dog!

I returned to Tucson and hopped back into work and house projects. As part of our anniversary celebration, Lance and I took a break from chores and zipped down to birdy Madera Canyon for a relaxing day outside in the gorgeous Spring weather. Mount Wrightson, the tallest peak in the Santa Rita Mountains (and the Tucson-area), still sporting some snow, was a pleasant sight as we wandered along the flowing creek looking for birds in the canyon’s tall trees.

Out here in the Sonoran Desert, the land of five seasons, Spring is a short event running from February through April. Usually our Spring features a gentle warming trend that signals the end of our admittedly short and mild Winter. This year was a bit different as we experienced multiple rapid temperature swings over the past few months. There were several times when one night’s low temperature surpassed the next day’s high! Not really sure if it was at all related to the El Niño currents in the Pacific Ocean though I do believe we owe our extra rainfall to the phenomenon.

The crazy weather may have kept us guessing but it certainly did not slow us down. February was a month filled with visitors. We have many reasons to love Spring in Tucson but one of our favorites is that Tucson hosts the Gem and Mineral Show every February which brings our good friend Brendan to town. The majority of Brendan’s time is occupied with rocks and rock geeks but he always finds time for a small adventure. This year, since we have a house again, we were finally able to return all his generous hospitality and host him. Our first houseguest! Good thing he is easygoing because our house was (and still is) a work in progress. We promised him that by next February we’ll have things whipped into shape.

The first part of the year here at Rancho Sol has been a bit unusual. Winter and Spring have tussled over just exactly which season is in charge. Several times now I have washed our heavy blankets and stored them away only to have to retrieve them again—most recently about a week ago. It sounds like we have another cold storm blowing in this weekend, too. We haven’t minded the fluctuations all that much since the strange weather brought extra doses of much needed rain.

The Sonoran Desert has suffered from a rainfall shortage for close to a dozen years now so a wet winter is most welcome around these parts. Plants in arid regions respond rapidly to the presence of water and it seemed like a carpet of lush green had been unrolled overnight in our yard. Curious to see what kinds of plants we’d end up with we let them grow to an identifiable stage before beginning to cull. Mixed in amongst the small native grasses we were pleased to see a few orange California Poppies (Eschscholzia californica ssp. mexicana), several purple Cleftleaf Wildheliotrope (Phacelia crenulata), multiple yellow flowers that are clearly members of the sunflower family and one blue Desert Bell (Phacelia campanularia).

There is a dangerous invasion occurring here in the Southwest. Nope, not the human kind that has received so much media attention lately (that’s a whole ‘nother story for a different time). The invader I’m referring to has the potential to completely destroy the landscape here in southern Arizona: it is a plant known as Buffelgrass (Pennisetum ciliare). And, as is the case with most invasives, this one was purposely introduced by humans.

This fast-growing and fire-loving bunch grass was brought from Kenya by the U. S. Department of Agriculture Soil Conservation Service in the early 1900s. The grass had three valuable characteristics that appealed to range managers: it thrived during droughts, held down precious topsoil, and livestock actually would eat it. For an arid part of the country trying desperately to recover from the devastating effects of the 1930s-era drought, Buffelgrass must have seemed like manna from heaven.

Sign posted in a local Tucson eatery.

A cool yet sunny Saturday morning in mid-January found me in a carpool with some talented environmental educators. Our destination was Florida Station which is located, appropriately enough, in Florida Canyon along the northwest edge of the Santa Rita Mountains south of Tucson. And before I get to far ahead, you should know that it is not pronounced like the state. Instead it is flo-REE-duh, which is Spanish for “flowered.” I presume the canyon earned that name since it sports a permanent trickle of plant-pleasing water. This lesser known canyon is located just northeast of that world famous birding hot spot, Madera Canyon.

The goal of our trip was to design an adventure quest that would share some of the area’s stories with visitors, primarily middle and high school students. As we drove south Elizabeth, our coordinator, filled us in on some of the area’s interesting past. Though I had visited the Santa Ritas a few times before I knew relatively little about the history so I found it all quite fascinating.

Florida Station consists of a dozen small, wooden buildings that serve as the headquarters for the Santa Rita Experimental Range (SRER). The range, the first of its kind in the country, was established by President Theodore Roosevelt in 1902 to study recovery efforts on land that suffered from the devastating effects of overgrazing and drought. Though numerous studies have been conducted over the years the most substantial work on the Range was done in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps. They were responsible for fencing the roughly 53,000 acre boundary as well as various stream control efforts. One of which was a dam in upper Florida Canyon that created a pool so deep that a diving board was installed for summer time enjoyment. During our tour of the property we stood below the dam and admired the fine craftsmanship of the CCC as their rock work towered over our heads. Even if the weather had been warmer we wouldn’t have been able to swim—nature had long since filled the pool with sand and sediment.

Last March I attended The Sustainability and Energy Exp09 here in Tucson. It was three days packed full of seminars, talks, movie screenings and a green marketplace—all designed to encourage citizens to reduce their impact on our local environment. I carefully arranged my schedule so that I could attend as many of the events as possible. Over the long weekend I scribbled down pages and pages of notes and gathered many helpful ideas that Lance and I could use to guide our decisions at the property we were hoping to purchase.

Looking back over my notes I remember having many ah-ha moments, noticeable since my excited handwriting became even worse than usual (and yes, that is possible). Many of the practical items we have now included in our plans for the house —some we have already started on while others, due to time and budget constraints, will have to wait until later. Of all the great information I received at the Expo there was one concept that really resonated. One that still does. It’s called the Theory of Anyway.

One of the speakers, Sharon Astyk, said she first learned it from Pat Meadows, a friend of hers. As I understand it the basic premise is that regardless of the size of an action’s impact or the outcome we should choose to do the right thing anyway. Just because. I don’t know about you, but I have been overwhelmed at times when faced with the enormity of our world’s problems. My small choices and steps seem so insignificant in comparison to the looming issues of a world in flux. Here’s where the Theory of Anyway fits in for me: I shouldn’t do X because it has any chance of single-handedly save the world; instead, I should do X just because it is the right thing to do.

I like how it changes the tone—according to the Theory of Anyway living simply, frugally, and carefully is not a political statement nor a moral judgment, it is just the right thing to do. Period. True, my actions may not make a big difference but they do make a difference. And think how much of a difference it would make in the world if everyone did all the small things that they could. As Helen Keller once said, “I can not do everything, but I can do something. I must not fail to do the something that I can do.”

Disclaimer: I am not even remotely suggesting that I always make the correct decision, but I am working on it.

One of the many things that I love about traveling is being a tourist. Not in the annoying, stereotypical American type of way but in the exploratory way. For better or worse, I was born with an insatiable curiosity (ask anyone who knew me as a child). Perhaps when I was small someone read me this Rudyard Kipling quote:

Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges. Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go.

Many times my urges to discover that which lies behind the bend have landed me in a bit of trouble and given my loved one fits (poor Lance). Other than a few mishaps I survived unscathed—looking back it is unfathomable that I have suffered nothing worse than a few cracked ribs!

As you may have noticed things have been a bit quiet around fautrever.com lately. We’re still here, happy and healthy but our day-to-day life has certainly changed. As you may recall we purchased a house last May. It was a big decision but it felt like the right one for us. We had long dreamed of a chunk of land with room for a garden and even goats and chickens (someday) and finally all the pieces fell into place. Owning the property requires that we stay put for a good part of the year, and after traveling year-round (mostly) for the past four years we are comfortable with the change. We are looking forward to this next leg of our life journey.

Our lives are still filled with adventures, just not so many of the traveling kind. (It might be time for us to rethink the title of our blog.) One of the many hobbies we fill our time with when we’re not tackling house projects, volunteering, or working is creating photographic archives for our families. It was my brainchild and it grew out of our need to downsize so that we could squeeze into our very first RV. As you might have noticed, I love to take pictures, I always have. I feel they capture moments and places that I might otherwise forget. As a result I had close to twenty large photo albums, which of course could not fit into a twenty-two foot long home on wheels with two adults and two cats.

Yet the thought of leaving them behind was unbearable so I had this brilliant idea to digitize all my photos. Seriously. All I would have to do is carefully remove each photo from the album, scan it, label it, and sort it into the corresponding year. Piece of cake, right? I don’t remember how fast it went or how much time it took but I must have thought it quite simple since I also started a digital album for Lance, too. Of course if you know me then you know that it didn’t make sense to limit the albums to just photos we owned. Why not include childhood pictures from other family members? And why stop with just our siblings? Why not gather photos from parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and yes, even grandparents? There is nothing simple in my world because apparently, I like it that way.