
(Rainkissed flowers sitting out on our balcony)
It’s been 83 days since it last rained in Arizona. Tomorrow, that’s all about to change.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the endless sunshine and clear blue skies, but there’s just something so peaceful about a dreary Saturday afternoon. It’s that little pocket of time where I can pause everything and decompress. There’s no agenda I have to follow, no deadline I’m required to meet, and no trip I’m slated to fulfill. It’s as if my day-to-day responsibilities are bottled up and put on the shelf, even if it’s only for awhile.
Andrew and I will be using this rare weekend to start the dreaded packing process, but don’t worry. We’ll still squeeze in a few hours for pizza-making and Oscar-viewing. I can hear the couch calling my name.
Come Monday, everything will go back to full speed. I’ve got my mom in town for a visit, followed by our big move into Old Town Scottsdale. Once the month of March arrives, it’s project after project, sprinkled with a few mini vacations in between. It’s such an exciting time, but a busy one for sure!
This is my weekend. This is my calm before the storm.

(One last glimpse of my fading henna tattoo)

(Celebrating National Margarita Day at the newly opened Salty Senorita)

(Looking out over Phoenix from the top of Tom’s Thumb Peak)

(A quick stop on the drive home from our hike, only to take a picture of this breathtaking sunset)
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