AfricanKelli

I’m having one of those weeks where everything is whizzing by at warp speed. Ay! Easter is going to be here before we know it. I’m going to Texas to celebrate with my folks. I’m super excited to see them and hang out for a few days. It is going to be a nice little vacation. I’m keeping my sights set on good barbeque, great company, crafting time with my mami and time with our family dog, Dharma. She’s my dog by proxy, and is the yippiest, most annoying and most loved animal on earth.

~

This weekend I attended another fundraiser for work. Since I haven’t had ample time to craft this week, you get photos of the food from this event. I grew up eating gumbo and love southern cooking, but I’m not so sure about the crawfish. They tasted good, but really do look like giant cockroaches.

Then there was the fried alligator.

Anything this fried tastes just about the same to me — like a battered flip flop.

But that chicken and sausage gumbo smelled delicious. Yum!

And check out the great backdrop. Can you tell why this mountain is called Camelback? Such a pretty spring day in Phoenix. We’ve got to enjoy the great outdoors while we can. We’ll be hovering over our ACs before we know it. Gulp.

Cheers,

K

I took my new camera to Saguaro Lake Saturday. I’m happy with the “zoomy” results.

More photos here.

~AK

I love living in Arizona for many reasons, one of which is the incredible beauty of the desert.

See more photos from my road trip yesterday here.

~AK

Three days a week, I meet my running buddy on the canals. We run 4-5 miles on the dusty path, making the turn to head back the gym just as the sun is peeking over the Superstitions in the east. Sunrise in Arizona is hard to beat. The sky is alive in color – hues that changes by the second. If you can get past the long line of utility poles in this photo, you can kind of see what I’m trying to describe.

I’ve yet to find a more peaceful way than greeting the new day with a long run and a moment to notice the bright morning sky.

~K

I am working on a little project that I can’t discuss in full quite yet, but I could use your help. (How’s that for cryptic?)

I would like to photograph elements of
Phoenix and the desert southwest that are decisively Arizonan. When you think of the Grand Canyon State, what comes to mind?

You know, other than the canyon. I got that one on my list already…

Send me your suggestions within the next week and I’ll throw you a shout out when the photos are published.

Thanks!

~AK

South Mountain, April 2005

The next couple of weeks are going to be a blur of activity at work. I’ve got a Mother’s Day gala planned for 100 women in a poor
West Phoenix community. The idea is to give these ladies a night of fun and pampering. We hosted it last year for the first time and had 50 women attend. Thankfully, a gracious donor has allowed us to double the participation this year. They’ll enjoy manicures, food boxes, beauty gift bags, health information, etc… It is chaotic to plan, but one of the best days of my job. I love it when public health and pedicures collide.

Then I’m off to Nicaragua for several days to lead a group of board members and donors to through our project site. I’ve been once before and it was a lovely trip. The weather is so nice this time of year. The rainy, wet forest will be a treat to trudge through, even if I have the equivalent of Mr. and Mrs. Thurston Howell III on my heels during the three-hour tour. I’m looking forward to taking photos of more exotic subjects, say coconut palms and monkeys. I’m sure you are getting tired of saguaros too.

Somewhere in the next week I’ve got to finish a knitting project for the Nicaraguan family I’m visiting, my mother’s day gift and get back to “the book.” I’m nearing completion. I broke the 70,000 word-mark yesterday. Yay!

Nonetheless, the posts will more than likely be less frequent in May. I’ll try to get online when traveling, but cable modems are a luxury of the first world.

Cheers,

AfricanKelli 

P.S. And just to clarify on the girl who ran away from her wedding post, I was in no way defending what she did. I am appalled that she embarrassed him this way, but it does make for good conversation. And seriously, who has 14 bridesmaids? As though this wasn’t the first sign of her waning mental state?

P.P.S. And really, aren’t quickie marriages more appalling? A la Britney and Jason Alexander (56 hours).

Have you hugged a tree today? Well, don’t hug this one. I’m not sure that it is actually classified as a tree, but it is tall and lanky and has a green, sprouty top. So let’s just throw it in the tree category for today, shall we?

I have no idea what type of plant this is. There goes my horticulture degree that I was trying so desperately to garner by researching my desert plant posts online. Bummer. It looks like it may be in the yucca family, or even cactus, with those pointy spikes. Any guesses? I like how its trunk is kind of wavy, like a coconut palm tree on a windswept beach.

Today is Arbor Day — or as us liberal hippies like to call it — The Day We Don’t Look as Weird When Hugging Trees. I’ve never actually hugged a tree, although I did learn at Girl Scout Camp that if you get really close and bury your little nose in the crevices of pine trees, they smell distinctly sweet. Like butterscotch, chocolate and strawberry. I spent many a childhood afternoon running through the mountains of northern
Arizona in my green scout vest smelling trees and screaming in glee, like little girls do. (Well, at least when we weren’t being forced to go door to door selling cookies, that is.)

My friend Rebs can tell you a story or two about hugging trees. Funny enough, she is one of my more conservative friends, but I have a special photo of her clinging to a tree for dear life. We were camping on Mount Lemon near Tucson our freshman year of college. If my memory serves me well, it was her first time being inebriated and when the booze hit her, she said she had to “hold on to the tree because it wouldn’t move. Why wouldn’t we all stop moving?” In fact, we were sitting quite still on the forest floor, laughing our asses off. Then it started to snow and things got even more interesting. A dozen people sleeping in a four person tent. At one point, I woke up with Mini sitting on my chest screaming, “Kelli? Are you breathing? Oh my God, I don’t think she is breathing!” To which Kacey coolly responded, “Min, she is just sleeping.” Ah, college.

Wait, didn’t this post start out about trees? I got off into la-la land. Check out this great article in today’s paper about the best trees in Phoenix. I love it. If I were to list some of my favorite tress in Arizona, they would be (in no preferential order):

1. The shrub pine that someone decorates as a Christmas tree each winter on I17 before you get to Flagstaff.

2. The tall saguaro on I10 between Phoenix and Tucson that has decorative orange rings on its long, reaching arms.

3. The metal oak tree at the far west side of Tempe Town Lake. People who donated to the park have their names carved into the leaves and it is a subtle, artistic touch that can easily go overlooked (unless you’ve run past it ten thousand times).

4. The bottle tree on Laguna Azul that we planted the day my brother was born.

C’est tout. A happy tree day to all!

~AfricanKelli 

Aloe barbadensis

Are you sick of my desert plant posts yet? Tough luck. I’ve got rolls of film I just developed that are ready to go. I promise there will be recipes, house projects and knitting patterns later posted. (I’ve been taking lots and lots of photos.)

This is a flowering aloe vera plant, which is the in the lily family. I learned that on the University of Arizona’s master gardening program page. If I were a wealthy novelist living in Tucson with gobs of free time on my hands, such a program would be perfect. Perhaps this will be my life sooner than I realize. Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps. (I love Cake, don’t you?)

Anyway, the sun was setting when I took this photo and I love the way the shadows fall on the aloe vera leaves. I remember when I was young, my mother would cut one of these long green leaves from a neighbor’s yard and crack it open. She’d use the gooey inside pulp to heal wounds when we fell down. It smelled disgusting, but worked really well.

~AfricanKelli

I was once a Peace Corps volunteer in
Cameroon, where I was trained in agroforestry. My responsibilities included working with local subsistence farmers on how to incorporate native tree species into their plots. Wind breaks, live fencing, erosion control and water table protection were hot topics. This seems like so long ago, and yet, I can still tell you all about acacia and cassia trees, if you are interested.

I got this job after telling my recruiter that I loved to garden. My previous experience included picking citrus off of our backyard trees and once helping my mother with some tomato plants that didn’t last a season. And yet, this qualified me to teach farmers – people who don’t eat if they aren’t successful – how to do their jobs. It was so wrong in so many ways. I just prayed my black thumb wouldn’t wear off and I wouldn’t be found out for the fraud I was.

When I returned, a girlfriend and I took a road trip to northern Arizona. It was a drive I’d made no fewer than 100 times in the previous three years when attending NAU. Nonetheless, I stuck my head out the window in awe of the changing landscape.

“Rebs,” I oohed, “look how pretty it is!” We drove through the rolling sage desert near Black Canyon City.

“Rebs,” I continued, “look at those!” The mountains near Sunset Point are a patriotic purple at the right time of day.

“The saguaro!” and later “The pine!” I couldn’t believe how much I’d missed the Arizona landscape in the few months I was gone.

“The ocotillo!” She smiled patiently.

“The agave!” She turned up the radio.

“The cholla!” She tried desperately to change the topic.

“The red rocks!” Sedona zoomed by.

“The snow!” The San Francisco peaks came into view.

Sometimes we’ll get in the car today and she’ll mock and point, “Oooh, a weed! A real weed! Are you excited?” We laugh about how I just couldn’t get enough of home. I was just so happy to be home.

Since then, I’ve taken a few classes at the Desert Botanical Garden. Most of the lessons were far too complicated, but I left with an even greater appreciation for plants that manage to survive in some of the harshest territory in the world.  I was startled to see how many cacti and succulents I recognized and how little attention I’d given to their differences. Sometimes, a cactus just looks like a cactus. Then you look a little closer and you see the spines are wider or the flower is a different shade. Its segmentation is varied. It spreads horizontally instead of vertically.

These are a few more photos from my neighbor’s garden. I was initially attracted to the beautiful flowers. They are bright, verdant orange. I had to be careful taking these shots because there were lots of bees busily at work.

Opuntia engelmannii, var. texana

As far as I can tell, these are Texas Prickly Pear, from the genus opuntia.

Again, I don’t know much about plants, but I suspect this is a male prickly pear because it is flowering and does not have any fruit. If it did have fruit, I could make this.

 I should tuck one of these in my hair the next time I go out. So pretty!

In the same genus but different specie, these are one of my favorites. They seem like a Darwinian step between plants. I’ve yet to find them in nearby yards, but I’m on the hunt.

~Africankelli

P.S. And if you’ve ever wondered about “cacti” vs. “cactuses,” the AP Style Guide uses “cactuses.” A touch awkward, if you ask me.

Echinocactus grusonii

The Golden Barrel Cactus, Echinocactus grusonii, is a common site in Arizona, southern California and nothern Mexico. These yellow, pineapple-shaped flowers bloom in April and May. Some Mexican recipes call for cactus fruit, which are mashed into a jelly-like paste.

This is an endangered plant, according to the people at the United States Botanical Gardens. Apparently they haven’t been out West lately. These grow like weeds.

Ask any adult who grew up in Arizona if they ever tussled with a cactus as a child. Most have. I fell into a jumping cholla once and have never forgotten it. A friend of my father’s once fell on a barrel cactus aftering losing his footing while trying to go to the bathroom on a camping trip. His son-in-law spent much of that evening and the next day plucking spines out of the old man’s ass with tweezers. It was a prickly situation for all.

Pretty to look at, no fun to touch.

~AfricanKelli