SISTERS, SISTERS...

This past weekend my three daughters flew in for a long-awaited First Annual Sisters Weekend--No Husbands nor Children Allowed.  We were all excited for the opportunity and, considering the midwest winter temps and snow amounts, they were more than eager for sun, temps in the high seventies, sun, bike rides, sun, and lazy time on the patio...sunning.

Yes...on this patio.  As we all remember, sun and '70s were scarce this past weekend.  But they quickly adapted to Plan B: Gathering the old albums and photos, reclaiming them from the garage, sifting, sorting, a bit of scanning, dividing and organizing!  (My favorite word--I say it often, do it seldom.)

We exclaimed, laughed, sighed, and "oh my goshed" our way through much of one day as we remembered life on the farm, old boyfriends and prom dates, first bikes, hot pants and go-go boots (I looked pretty darned good!), a series of Ford Pintos, frightening clothing styles and hair-dos...It was great fun!

Now, reward time for Work Well Done.  An evening at Pizzeria Bianco--the best pizza anywhere.  Even Oprah and Rachel Ray say so!  First Rule for an evening at PB...Arrive early because many other people want to eat there also.  4:00 p.m. is good (that's when the bar opens), but 3:30 is better.

If you run into traffic problems (What do you mean the 101 is closed???) and arrive at 4:30 p.m. you will be met by a line of mostly happy people many of whom you will know well before the evening is over.  This was our line--61 persons ahead of us.  That's not a lot...the restaurant, after all, holds 40.  However, this being a republic, we quickly realize that each person in line represents a number of other persons.  He/She is part of a couple, a family, a group, a gaggle, an out-of-state convention.  Sixty-one in line is problematic for some, but for me it just adds to the charm/experience/panache of the place.  (I'm so good I'm believing my own statements!)

My girls are nothing if not problem solvers, so Mickie (the youngest) is quickly elected to placehold in the line.  Here she is with her new BFF from California, who in turn is placeholding for her spa group...you see how it goes.

While Mickie makes friends, Denise and Kristi jog into Bianco Bar, a charmingly restored little house just next door to Pizzeria Bianco and a requisite part of the experience.  The girls found a table, ordered wine and became our table holders.  They are warm, Mickie is cold and a bit damp--but she does seem to be holding two glasses of wine so I think she's OK.  At 5:00 the restaurant opens, quickly fills, and placeholders are entered on the waiting list (in order of arrival).  Mickie rejoins her sisters and the wait, mitigated by appetizers and more wine begins.  After two plus hours, great conversation and lots of laughing, our name is called and we move next door to the pizzeria.

Clockwise from left:  Mickie, Denise, Kristi, and moi.  We have reached hallowed ground and we're ecstatic, if not a little glassy-eyed.  Suffice to say dinner was delicious.  Biancoverde proved to be the favorite although I'm still a Wiseguy fan.  We scored a free Margherita which psychologically became pretty darned good, too.  Great Anti-pasto.  Now--"Show us the way to go home..."

BUT IT'S A DRY COLD

In the ten plus years we've lived in Arizona, our fountain has frozen twice.  Each time it froze, it looked a little like this...The water in the fountain was covered by a thin sheet of ice while the decorative ball was encased in sparkling ice crystals. The pump continued to spew out water and the frosty fountain event was over by early afternoon.  That is, until the Great Freeze of 2011.

Yes indeed, while the midwest, southeast and northeast were shivering and scooping, Phoenix was encased in ice.  We also got to participate in this year's weather game of  "Can you break all low temperature records of all time in just one week?"  Here's our attempt on February 2nd:

It's beyond my ability for description, but if I look long enough and don't blink I can see a bald headed old man whose face is entirely surrounded by Chihuly-like designs of ice.  His eyes droop and his stare is either incredibly wistful or completely forbidding.  Wait, now all of a sudden on the right I can see two tiny lower legs sticking out of the ice, and on the left...   Oh, never mind.  

However, our little birds who winter here still enjoyed the cold, cold water.  Their feathers were a bit fluffed for warmth, but they're right on schedule for their morning drink and bath.  Then, the next day brought this:

Whoa!  This strikes me as a not terribly attractive pile of gray ice.  It was definitely colder on February 3rd than on February 2nd, but the fountain continued to pump out little drops of water. 

Our little friend is back, but his mate or wife or girlfriend or significant other, obviously sensing the seriousness of this situation, has flown the coop and is on her way to the southern reaches of Mexico.  She is no fool.