St. George was nice. It felt a little like going home again, just the weather and much of the terrain reminded me of Gilbert. Tennis season would start in January--outdoors, by March, when the matches started I would be tan. It really was beautiful but the trade off is vicious summer heat and a lack of seasons. It was always very exciting when it was cold enough to pull our sweaters and jackets out of the back of the closet. It seems laughable to me now. I miss Arizona sometimes. It was a good place to grow up. I thought I'd always stay there, a native Arizonan, like my Dad is and like my Mom used to be. I guess you never know how things are going to turn out.