Thanksgiving with flippy floppies
Not your traditional weather …
So Pat and I have taken a trip to Arizona to have Thanksgiving with Gerald. While we were driving through the mountains of eastern Arizona last night, the temperature did get down to 34 degrees, according to the thermometer in our truck. However, now we’re in Tempe, in the Valley of the Sun, and the temperature is somewhere in the vicinity of 80 degrees.
Pat discovered that he had forgotten something in his packing, leaving him short of pants. No problem, we found that one clothing store in the outlet mall was open special Thanksgiving hours. This shopping center has one of the very trendy sound systems that plays music in all of the outdoor areas. It’s playing holiday tunes.
There was something incongruous, however, about what was playing as we were walking from the truck to the store: “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.”
Labels: desert, family, music, observations, poetry, tadpole, travel
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Programming note: Visitor #63K was somebody in Belgium, looking for something that looks like a scrap of song lyrics that landed the visitor at this post about a sailing experience with Zorro.
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