Despite what others may say, growing up in Arizona isn’t all bad. The weather is gorgeous from November to April, nearly half the year if you are part of the cup-half-full club. For six months we kids lived outside until dusk; collecting every last speck of daylight, and storing it in our minds for summer. We would need it while we were running barefoot across scorching sidewalks and singeing our bottoms on black rubber swings. When the asphalt radiated heat like the coils of a blow dryer, we would need a reminder that it wasn’t permanent, because it was easy to forget. Once May arrived, the heat was home, its roots firmly planted in the desert soil. We all knew it, living it was the harder part.Continue Reading
The Not So Secret Life of Bees {A Childhood Story}
Growing up, I distinctly remember having beehives in my backyard. My dad was a beekeeper for several years, and I became accustomed to the large wooden hotels that towered in the corner of our yard. Their four-walled homes balanced atop each other and found shade under our fruit-filled grapefruit tree. You would think that being around these temperamental insects would have scared me as a child, but it didn’t. Unfortunately, quite the opposite occurred. I seemed to grow in ignorance as I assumed that they would never hurt me and that their only ability was to produce delicious honey filled combs for which we could season our fry bread with.