Tomorrow, we leave Tucson for the summer. So I feel like I can finally vent about something that's been bothering me without being accused of having a bad attitude (which is probably true, at least a little bit).
Basically, I feel like I'm living in a gigantic sandbox. I don't know why it has taken me almost three years to notice it enough to be bothered by it, but there are lots of rocks in Tucson. The big rocks, I don't mind so much, because Miriam climbs on them and has a good time. It's the medium, little, tiny, and sand-particle sized rocks that are slowly (?) driving me insane.
I'm not complaining about the lack of grass in Tucson, or the lack of beautifying landscaping (lest we disturb the natural order of weeds, dying/dead saguaro cacti, and the right of all to keep a washer/dryer in their carport), though those are all valid complaints. But does everything around here have to be covered in rocks?
They get everywhere. In my shoes, in Miriam's shoes, on our entry mat (if only they stayed there instead of getting tracked all over the house), all over the floor of our car, in the storage basket on the stroller, in the bike trailer (and how!), encrusted on anything remotely wet or sticky you drop on the ground, and deposited in a fine layer over all the furniture if we leave the door open for ventilation on a breezy day, invariably just after you've finished dusting. There is hardly anything more aggravating to my ears than the sound a chair being pushed back, or a piece of furniture being moved makes when it catches on a tiny rock and screeeeeeeeeeeeeches across the floor, hopefully (but rarely) the tile floor instead of the wood laminate.
The thing is, I tend to compare things here to where I grew up (Beaverton, Oregon). So it's inherently unfair. And I just know that there has to be some similar complaint about the Northwest that I'm just not remembering - were we always tracking mud into the house? Pine needles? I really don't recall.
I'll go ahead and deal with the omnipresent sand and grit for another day or two. But it's a good thing we're leaving for a while so I can get a break from this living-in-a-sandbox feeling.