In 2005 I, and Hubby, left the shores of Southern California for the desert and Arizona sun. It seemed like a thing I could do, since I’ve moved to many different areas of the USA just because Hubby needed to change. (All wives, as well as some husbands, know this drill.) So off we go… two weeks in the sun, not too bad. A month… Still hanging in there. Six weeks I was not doing so great, but I’m still with it. Then when we reached July, a time of year, here, when the temperature at 2:30 in the morning is still a ripping 92 degrees… I have to admit that, well… It’s HOT!
I continued in a effort to believe that there was nothing I couldn’t do for my man! But that July heat where it’s 112 in the shade was awful. Each day I would rise picturing myself able to conquer the heat and by twelve noon I was saying to Hubby, “We could always go back to San Diego to live.” And that would bring on “the look,” and I would utter a weak, “No? Okay.”
Survival became painting