Simply Belle

A week ago, we had an excursion at Walnut Canyon with my daughters. It was our first ever visit here. The Walnut Canyon is located about 10 miles southeast of Flagstaff. The canyon rim is at 6,690 feet; the canyon floor at 350 ft lower. A 0.9 mile long loop trail descends quite a ways down into the canyon passing the cliff dwellings.

The exposed canyon rocks have eroded over time creating shallow caves. During the 12th or 13th centuries, the Sinagua Indians spotted this area, constructed cliff dwellings, and lived here for several centuries.

Because of the presence of water, this place was rich in flora and fauna- perfect place for farming community. Though, now, the walnut creek as you can see in the picture is dry because it is held back in Lake Mary which provides water for the city of Flagstaff. The creek rarely ever flows anymore except when it rains hard.

Can you see those shallow caves along the cliffs? The Sinagua people built a single-story cliff dwellings there from about 12th century AD.

Cliff dwellings up close.

No excavation was needed to build this shelter as nature provided the back wall, floor, and leak-proof ceiling. All the builders did was simply laid up the unshaped blocks of limestones for side walls, enclosed the front, leaving a teeny weeny doorway to the canyon. (I presume that Sinagua people were as small as I or even smaller judging from the size of the door.)

Overhanging ledges protected their rooms from snow and rain, and shaded them during hot summer days. Thick walls of stone and mud insulated their dwellings from harsh winter weather and retained the much needed heat in the cold winter days.

Not much left in this dwelling after such a long time or someone could have ruined this on purpose long time ago, looking for artifacts. Now, visitors are only allowed to take pictures.

This is how the rocks look like before walls are erected.

In response to Annamanila’s question as to why it’s called Walnut Canyon, I added this photo.

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We had a great Thanksgiving lunch at friends’ home. E cooked two medium-sized turkey, and so we had plenty of leftover. I made sure I grabbed one of the wings while E took the other one. For E and I, wings are the best part of the turkey. What is your favorite part of the turkey?

B, the host, was meticulously carving the turkey.

Home-made jala bread that E bakes only twice a year on special occasion.

I snuck in to get a piece of meat while the host was preoccupied with other matter. Bad!

Before lunch:

As I said earlier, I will fill up more on greens and healthy stuff…which I did.  I skipped the pumpkin pie but I was not able to resist the icecream with caramel topping.

After lunch:

That orange yam dish was exceptionally good. It was cooked with brown sugar, butter, and topped with marshmallows.

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We’re all set for the next trip. To solve our bathroom problem, my husband bought a sanitary tent designed for bath and toilet needs. One day without a bath is bearable but two days are uncomfortable. We will just have to haul extra supply of water for bathing – the tabo (ladle) way. My husband learned the art of tabo bathing in my friend’s house in the province, and is pretty good at doing it now, I must say. He was telling a friend of his, one time, on how to go about it. He said, he lathers himself down with little water and soap, and rinses it off with a tabo, and does his head and back last because wetting the back of his neck makes him cold. It is the other way around for me. I shampoo and wash my hair first, then soap my arms, legs, and private parts, and the body comes last accompanied with jumping up and down if the air temperature is cold. Stumping the feet usually helps combat the cold.

For the shower, we need to use a special kind of soap – a biodegradable one so it will not harm our environment.

With this porta-potty, we don’t have to worry about going quite a ways, and hiding behind the bushes…hehehe. I am pretty lucky that I haven’t felt the urge to do it this way, so far. The concept is similar to a child’s training potty, only with a pouch below to hold it. After you finish doing the potty, you secure the pouch and deposit it in the trash can. It has some kind of chemicals that congeal the contents inside so it will not run or smell. Get the drift? Ahh, I am not sure if I will be able to sit on it and do the thing. It is a matter of getting used to it but, if push comes to shove, I have to use it no matter what.

Next thing he plans to buy in the future is a shower head. It has a battery pump that pumps the water from the bucket to the small tank which then gets heated with a propane heater, and once the water is heated to a comfortable temperature, gets transported to the shower head. Neat idea, I thought, which makes camping easy and more pleasant.

Wait! Where will I hook my blow dryer to make my hair pretty and straight? My husband said to forget it. He suggested that I stick my head out of the window when the car is moving. Tsk tsk, men are clueless when it comes to women’s grooming.

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On the way home from a Sunday’s trip, we saw a person parasailing with a view of an awesome sunset in the background.

Today is Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. We will be spending Thanksgiving dinner with my friend, E, who lives an hour away from home. I will be making corn bread, turkey stuffing (my husband’s favorite), blueberry salad, veggie salad, green bean casserole, and avocado salad side dish. My friend, E, is in-charge of cooking the turkey, desserts, and bread.

My plan is to splurge on healthy dishes and nibble on meat and desserts.

From my home to your home, Happy Thanksgiving!

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I had to delete the post of my daughter singing, “Hard to Say I’m Sorry” after it messed up my site in an attempt to upload some recent pictures of her. This whole thing is too technical for me. I have to get lessons from my daughters when they come home this Thanksgiving.

You can find the song here, or you can listen to her original music at My Space.
You Are Not There and Poker Face are my favorites.

Recent pictures taken after the show:

She is the one on the left.

Now, I don’t know how to repost your comments. I am truly sorry, but I saved them for my daughter to read.

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In our neck of the woods, persimmon trees are unknown, as well as figs. But, that doesn’t stop my husband from planting them despite the warnings of the experts that they wouldn’t grow here. He is stubborn, you know, but in a good way. He likes planting fruits trees. Every place we moved in, the first thing he did was surround our yard with fruit trees. I asked him why, he doesn’t have an answer. He simply likes to do it. If he likes a certain variety of tree and our nursery doesn’tcarry it, he doesn’t mind traveling 90 miles just to get that tree. No one could stop him. On our trip to Seattle last year, he was so adamant on visiting a nursery out in the woods that he thought carry the best variety of fig tree. The kids and I had to go along with him because his mind was already made up and there was nothing we could do to stop him. It took us forever to get there. I had been hinting him to turn around as we had traveled quite a ways already and had been driving in circles, still there was no nursery in sight. But, he wouldn’t give up until he found the place, and he did.

Three years ago, my husband stopped at our local nursery to get a fig tree but they were all out. He happened to notice persimmon trees. Since we enjoy persimmon fruits immensely, he bought two trees. He planted them both – one survived and the other died. He went back to the nursery one day for something else, and also inquired about the persimmon tree. The guy said that the trees that my husband bought were sent to his yard by mistake because they don’t thrive in our area as it freezes here during winter.

So, the next spring, a bunch of shoots came up from the roots of presumably dead tree. He it let grow as a bush instead of a tree. He watered it regularly. Last year, it had few fruits on it but nothing to be thrilled about. But this year, it was loaded and so was the other one that remained as a tree. Recently, we noticed that the other persimmon tree looks like it is going die although there are some shoots coming out from below – exactly what happened with the tree below. Probably, next year it will grow up as a bush when the main tree dies. From this experience, we learned that trees which prefer the mild Mediterranean climate like figs and persimmons survive as bushes in our type of climate while apple, pear, and peach trees do fine in the form of a tree.

My husband – an avid orchardist

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my husband said that this shack is so ugly that it is almost pretty. oh by the way, that shack was mine but was recently renovated.

how can the guy sleep on the top and not fall off?

it is just me posing for my husband.

poor but happy and not a trace of fat in their body.

the prolific fishing village in Baras, Catanduanes.

a typical probinsiyana little girl in Catanduanes. i promised to send this picture to her by mail but i thought i would personally hand a framed 4 by 6 picture to her when i take my vacation again. she should be tickled pink.

beautiful rice terraces in San Miguel, Baras, Catanduanes where the little girl above resides.

Dororian falls located in Dororian, Gigmoto, Catanduanes.

my SIL carried me piggy back to the other side to avail of the spring water. i was trying to keep my upper body dry because i was nursing a cold but i fell off anyway and got all wet, geeeessssh!

Virac market.

Mother and son relaxing on the beach ( my SIL and nephew)

wouldn’t it be nice if someone is kind enough to help this smart cute little girl out of poverty by supporting her through school?

if only her eyes are open, this photo would have been worth framing too.

Beautiful Puraran beach.

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When my husband went to Oak Creek Canyon, we briefly passed through Sedona. I wanted to take time to take photos of the awesome red rocks which the town is famous for, but we were under time constraints that day so I took half of these pictures from inside the car.

Sedona is about 80 miles from home. It is an expensive place to live. Jane Russell, a retired movie actress, was the one who made this place popular when she moved here permanently after her retirement.

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As I was pulling into the driveway, coming from work, I chanced upon a bird on top of the pine tree. I knew it wasn’t a common bird that I normally see in my yard. It was a bird of prey. My husband has been wanting a photo of a hawk for a long time but we can never get close enough to get a good shot.

I parked the car hurriedly in the garage since these chances don’t last long. I left my belongings in the car, went inside, ignored mango’s squawking for attention, and headed directly to the bedroom where the camera was. I quickly slapped on the 300 zoom lens as it was impossible to get close to the hawk, and I immediately took off–exiting through the garage. Huh! The hawk disappeared! He must have heard/known that I was coming to photo shoot him. I was utterly disappointed!

A few minutes later, my husband and I went for a walk in the Green Valley park. I suggested that we take the camera just in case we see something interesting worth taking on our walk. At first, he was against the idea, but somehow, I managed to convince him. As we were pulling out of the driveway, the hawk returned to his post. It was a good thing my camera was ready and loaded. I went out of the car and gingerly walk closer to the hawk. I wasn’t sure how far he would allow me to approach him. I took several shots as if they were my only chance. I walked closer and closer and closer. And miraculously, he was still allowing me to snap pictures despite of my proximity. I was never that close to a hawk before. I was so keyed up but tried to maintain my composure. My husband was watching inside the car, from afar, and holding his breath. Finally, the hawk has had enough of me and flew away.

Then, we drove to the park to take our afternoon walk. The park is only a mile away from home. I was very much looking forward to seeing the igret that frequents the lake every afternoon. I didn’t mind hauling the heavy camera at all. Lo and behold, I saw a white silhouette from a distance. It was an igret! How lucky could I get? It looked like he sensed I was coming to take photos of him. I was very cautious in approaching–trying to avoid any sudden movements. Fortunately, he allowed me to get close enough to photograph him. I was awed by his beauty and elegance. Indeed, today is my lucky day.

And not far from the igret, posed the blue heron, almost invisible because of his camouflage. My husband spotted him first. I crossed the road and slowly walked close enough to be able to take decent pictures. I could tell he didn’t approve of me getting close. The closer I got, the farther he went away. I was lucky enough that he allowed me to take a couple of shots.

My husband took a picture of these wild geese. Soon, they will disappear and move towards south where the weather is warmer.

At the end of our walk, we were saluted with this fiery sunset.

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As usual, am late for PMN family pics

I was hoping I would make it to the deadline this time but we were in Sedona the whole day yesterday and didn’t get back home until late. The theme this month is plated (on a plate).

Nothing can beat home-made pie. It simply delicious especially with french vanilla ice cream topping or plain cheese. My whole family loves apple pie. But, I only bake it on special occasion like on Thanksgiving or Christmas because it is too rich and it is too easy to eat the whole pie.

Apple pie brings back memories of my mother-in-law(bless her soul). She made the best apple pie, and I am not kidding. She tried teaching me how to make it, but for some reason, mine wasn’t near as good as hers no matter how much I practiced.

I also have a friend, named E, who is an excellent baker. I learned from her how to make the best apple pie crust. She never uses her bare hands to mix the dough and that is her secret. The crust is nice and flaky!

This Thanksgiving, I am pretty sure she will be baking apple, pumpkin, and pecan pie. And you know what it means– pig out time again!

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