January 11th, 2011 … do you know where your tank tops are?
It’s time to talk Scottsdale vacation homes, people.
You see, while you are buried under two feet of snow, I’m mowing my lawn. In flip flops. As today is a bit nippy by Scottsdale standards, I went a little crazy and skipped the zinc oxide on my nose.
Now, I wouldn’t dream of poking fun at you poor buggers who are currently caught within exhale radius of Mr. Snow Miser’s arctic morning breath. Nope, I have no intentions of gloating or doing the verbal Ickey Shuffle all over that frozen tundra you call home. I’m certainly not going to ask you to hand deliver a message to one of the polar bears in the Coke commercials or wonder aloud about your local animal ordinances, and whether or not they allow for emperor penguin adoption.
Summer will roll around soon enough, and the mercury-bending shoe will be on the other foot.
In the meantime, however, I thought I might offer a few examples of that which a Scottsdale winter does not consist. You know, to help spread some vicarious warmth to those unfortunate souls trapped in the ice tray of nature’s Frigidaire. I’m all about paying it forward this year.
Things I Am Not Doing Right Now:
- Shoveling My Driveway
- Scraping Ice From My Frozen Windshield
- Winterizing My Cactus
- Spreading Salt Anywhere Other Than the Rim of My Margarita Glass
- Ordering Heating Oil – Might Restock On Banana Boat Deep Tanning Oil, However
- Dressing Like the Michelin Man On His Way to a Potato Sack Race
- Turning the Ignition Over In My Car In Case I Might Use It in April
- Getting My Tongue Stuck To a Pole
- Dodging Porch Stalactites
- Commanding Any of My Pets to “Mush”
- Battling Seasonal Affective Disorder
- Wearing a Thermal Speedo
- Driving a Zamboni to Work
- Opening Another Window On My Summer Solstice Advent Calendar
- Eating Comfort Food By the Cubic Ton
- Chewing Seal Blubber
- Climbing Inside the Belly of a Dead Tauntaun to Ward Off Hypothermia
- Cursing the Inebriated Snow Plow Driver
- Empathizing With the Donner Party
- Pretending to Puff Smoke With Each Visible Breath
- Seeing Russia From My House
- Ice Skating On My Swimming Pool
- Remodeling My Mid-Century Modern Igloo
- Being Rescued From My Mailbox By a Whiskey-Laden Saint Bernard
- Employing a Sherpa For My Trek to the Grocery Store
- Joining a Polar Bear Club
- Getting Ready For My Neighborhood Yeti Watch Shift
Fun as all that sounds, I’ve got a full afternoon of driving around in my convertible after squeezing in a quick round of golf. Depending on my motivation, I might go lay out on top of Camelback Mountain for a spell. This epidermis ain’t gonna tan itself, you know.
Want to secure your own life of leisure? We can always accommodate one more Scottsdale vacation home owner. Contact us today, or jump to our Scottsdale home search page to find your own little slice of Southwestern paradise.
*Mukluks not required.