I blame the oranges

So I took a little blog hiatus last week, and I'm sure the suspense has been building as you await stories about whatever preoccupation kept me from writing. So here it is. While you all were anxiously refreshing your browsers in hopes to catch a glimpse at a new post (just go with it...this girl needs dreams no matter how far-fetched), I was hangin' with two of my grandmas in Arizona and acting like a retiree.

I'm not going to lie. It was pretty awesome. Minus the frigid weather. The high temps for the 5 days we were there were 51, 49, 44, 51, 61...and on the day we left, 74. Go figure. The Hubbs and I have some pretty awful weather luck when we travel...rained and was unseasonably cool for most of our honeymoon, was unseasonably cool when I was in New Orleans last year, and there's a record freeze when we go to AZ. Take this as your warning in case you ever decide to travel with us.

In spite of the lame weather, the Hubbs and I were able to enjoy the retired lifestyle — we played shuffleboard, bocce ball, drove around in golf carts, went to dinner shows and the theater, learned how to make jewelry, swam in beautifully heated pools, and watched people far more talented than us work on stained glass, wood working and whittling projects. And we ate really, REALLY well.

Post gorging ourselves on all-you-can-eat (challenge accepted) ribs, chicken, ham,
green beans, dinner rolls, potatoes, baked beans, stuffing, oatmeal cookies.
I could try to blame the bulk on the winter coat, but you'd all know it's a lie.

Let's just say the Diet Nazi was put on hold, but the fresh oranges that I could get right off the tree outside at least kept me eating something besides carbs. They've also ruined me because the orange I picked up at the grocery store couldn't hold a candle to the citrus I was devouring in AZ. I haven't weighed myself since I got home, but if the poundage I lost has been found again, I'm going to blame the oranges (not the pancakes, french toast, BBQ ribs, salmon, pizza, popcorn, etc.).

We also met some lovely people...and one of them gave us a frozen salmon that he'd caught in Alaska where he and his family live the rest of the year. A trip highlight was definitely the reaction of the TSA security checker when she screened Hubby's carry-on bag containing the frozen fish...she had to run it through the scanner twice. When Hubbs said that she was probably seeing a frozen salmon, I was pretty certain our loot would be near the top on her "strange things people pack" list...either that or Hubbs would be taken into custody. And while I love him, there's a good chance I would've left him at the airport and taken it as a sign that I was supposed to stick around and enjoy the 74 degree weather.

Now that I'm back and being welcomed home by even MORE frigid weather...I'm so flippin' ready to retire. I can learn how to make beautiful things from wood, stone, glass, etc., play a ridiculous amount of card games, swim daily in a pool that's essentially filled with bath water, gorge myself on oranges, and take ballroom dance lessons (or about 9,000 other classes covering everything from foreign language training and photo editing to acting and silversmithing).

If any of you all would like to donate to the "help Sara retire" fund, I promise to let you come visit me in whatever warm locale I choose for my winter home. It'll be like a cooperative...but I get the master bedroom and you get the sleeper sofa. It is my brilliant idea after all. AND if you're really lucky, I might even snag you your very own Alaskan salmon...