They don't climb

Oh hell!  Another boring day in paradise!

The view from the front door of Casa Foringer.

One of Becky's friends.

The view out front.
What are those white things in the sky?

The Foringer Estate.

Becky and Dave are doing so well, they even have a cabana boy.

Exciting times at the homestead.
"7 come 11," shouts Lorrie.
Or maybe she's about to knock some sense into Dave.

Just makes you want to clamber up onto Old Bessie and ride off into the sunset, don't it?

But not before dinner.
Mr. Sausage tests the grill.

Look, in the sky!
The killer bees have passed us by!

Not quite full.

Camelback beckons.
When will we ever get there?

But plenty of hiking available right here in the nearby McDowell range.

The rooftop view is stupendous, both for the mountains and the sunset.

Going...

Going...

Gone...

"I'm not going to deal with these crazy women," opines Dave as he leaves the scene.

A fine group of young men.
Well, a group of men, at least.

Don't ask.
I have no idea what's going on.

Almost everyone looks perfect!
Let's try again.

Isn't it amazing?
I have 30 or 40 pictures where Becky has photobombed,
and her eyes are wide open in every one.

Now this shot captures their essence!

I'm still trying to figure out how Chris kept his face in focus
while his hair is blurry.
Maybe it's the bees.

I think the disembodied hand on the left is accompanied by a song.
"Stop, in the name of love..."

But all good rooftop sunset and bee appreciation evenings must end.

"So do you think these people will ever leave?"

"I'm beginning to wonder..."

"They've been here for many moons..."

"I'm getting a little teed off at the way they all putter around."

"I've got it!  Let's show them our pet scorpions!"

"Yeah, that's it!  Especially the ones that drink wine!
That'll clear everyone out!"

Becky fessed up to the fact that scorpions do, in fact, climb, and the New Yorkers skeedaddled faster than you can say "blizzard!"  Peace returned to Arizona.