Herbal Happy Hour

It must have been all the anti-oxidants in the $4 Pomegranate Margaritas at The Herb Box happy hour because we girls were on a roll. We poured old friend Sheila into the clan, picked up new friend Karin at the bar and mourned Michael Jackson (absolutely my first real, posters all over the ceiling, idol). We drank right through a parenting class so we conducted our own class - a little parenting, a little first love, first trip to Europe, how to teach the other halves to just blend in, how to construct a "Nobody Asked You" sign and a whole series of Codependent No More. It may have gotten to 107 in the afternoon, but up in the bubble of North, North Scottsdale, surrounded by big trees and mountains, we sat on the patio on a cloudy evening, misters going, a little rain falling, a beautiful sunset happening and it wasn't hot at all (and not just because I'm not complaining - even the born a city girl, but turns into a Wisconsin Farm Frau every summer, was cool). Life is good.

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