Myanderings

Yet another thing I take for granted

2012-02-09T22:55:00.003-06:00

Last night, I taught my fifth graders' religion class. I was, once again, reminded of all that I take for granted.

I start out every class with an opening prayer and then I read to the class from my copy of "Saint of the Day" which I have owned for at least 15 years. My copy of the book is so old that I could not find a picture online. The picture above is of the current edition. This not only gives everyone time to settle down and time for the stragglers to straggle in but the kids actually look forward to it. Last week I was sick, so last night, I read both saints.

During class, I made mention of the fact that whenever I am struggling with some spiritual problem, I open my saints' book and there is inevitably some kernel of knowledge or wisdom or guidance that pertains to whatever difficulty I am facing.

The reaction that stunned me, and humbled me, was the child who asked, in a tone of wonder, "That's YOUR book? You own that book?"

I do indeed and, come the end of the year, so will he.

The Ultimate Irony

2012-02-07T12:42:00.003-06:00

Throughout my life, by design and by happenstance, I have linked important events in my life to important dates in history and/or holidays.

My first husband and I were married 4 days before Thanksgiving.

His birthday was on Labor Day (back when it didn't move).

Our daughter was born 1 day after Thanksgiving (different year).

He died on Easter Sunday.

My next husband and I were engaged on Christmas Eve.

I married my next husband on Valentine's Day.

I threw him out in the dark of the moon, on the 6th of June (all of you C.W.McCall fans will understand).

Our daughter was born 3 days before Hallowe'en.

I married my next husband on New Year's Eve.

I found him with his mistress on the next New Year's Eve.

At this point, my mother rather vehemently requested that I not mess up any more holidays and she pointed out that the world did not really revolve around me.

I have tried ever since to abide by her wishes in this regard.

Last Saturday, on my birthday, my mother died.

Rest in Peace, Ma, and know that you were loved.

One Sentence Saturday #3

2012-02-04T08:44:00.000-06:00

"When you forgive, you in no way change the past - but you sure do change the future."

Bernard Meltzer

One Sentence Saturday #2

2012-01-28T08:43:00.000-06:00

She's doing the best she can with the skills she has...

One Sentence Saturday #1

2012-01-21T19:38:00.003-06:00

My friend, Robin, at Pensieve stole this idea (sort of) from my friend, Pamela, at The Dust Will Wait who stole it (sort of) from my friend, Peter, at A Dingo Ate My Barbie.

How could three of my friends possibly be wrong about this being a great idea?

Mantra for the day - if you owe taxes, it's because you made money.

A Very Peculiar Day

2012-01-18T21:01:00.002-06:00

Today was a very peculiar day. After work, I met my husband and we looked at a house that is for sale. No, things are not better. We looked at a house for me to buy so that I can finally move out. It is a lovely little house and I have already decided where the Christmas tree will go.

We will talk to the bank and we will make an offer and hopefully it will be accepted. Somehow I just never thought that the next house we would buy would be for just one of us.

Finding a house you like - around 85,000

Making an offer on it - around 80,000

Moving in alone - priceless, I guess

January 2012

2012-01-15T18:01:00.004-06:00

I find it hard to believe that it is half way through January and that this is my first post of the year. So far this year:

I have had two wonderful weeks in my new position as Dispatch Supervisor. After two years on graveyard shift, getting up in the morning is just kicking my derriere. There is so much to learn and so many people to get to know all over again and there is this thing in the sky when I get off work - I have learned that it is called the sun.

I have lost 10.8 pounds.

My husband and I are back down to 3 dogs. Goose, who had always rather hunt than eat from a bowl, took it upon herself, along with Piper, to use someone's goat ranch as a grocery store. She had always brought home very dead, very old, very decomposed parts to share but she brought home a very dead, very young, very fresh goat to share. Shorty, bless his heart, did what had to be done. Piper has not been seen since. I am assuming that the rancher also did what had to be done. I bear no malice toward anyone but the cowardly bastards that find it easier to dump a dog in the country than to do what has to be done. May God have mercy on them for they will find none in my heart. I am tired of having to kill dogs.

Two of my good friends, albeit friends who live in my computer, have had dogs die in the past two weeks, good and faithful dogs, members of their families for all of their lives. My heart breaks for their loss. RIP Boscoe and Buddy. Still waiting to hear the sad news about Bentley.

I am trying very hard to be cheerful. It is what I do but I am finding it difficult this January. Maybe when my body adjusts to my new schedule, it will be easier. Maybe it is because the word that keeps haunting me this year, the word that I asked God to give me to ponder this year, the word is:

Consequences.

Hmmmm.

2011-12-25T06:29:00.001-06:00

Merry Christmas from my home to yours!

First Monday - Traditions

2011-12-05T21:13:00.002-06:00

For Sayre, who wants to hear about our holiday traditions.

It is funny but the holiday traditions that I hold closest are not the ones that my mom carried on for us but the ones that I have made for my children. My two very favorite Christmas traditions have continued every year, without fail, since my girls were little. Some years I did them without my girls and some years I inflicted them on strangers, but they have survived.

The first is the one that Moose and I already did this year - the Salvation Army angel tree. Giving, especially those years when you think you don't have enough, is good for the soul...and for the children in your life.

The second is my traditional Christmas dessert which is birthday cake for Baby Jesus. Even during the years when I was lost, when I wasn't really sure that I loved Jesus' Dad or that He really cared about me, I, and whoever was around me, had birthday cake for Christmas dessert. Some years it was homemade and some years it was mail-ordered and some years it was purchased from a bakery but it always was birthday cake. When my girls were little, there was some confusion about this. My sister's birthday is Christmas day and one year, Juls was convinced that my sister must be God because she had God's birthday!

I love the sights and sounds and smells of Christmas. I love the good will and cheer that is almost a palpable thing. I love that, 2000 and some odd years later, we are still celebrating the Baby's birthday.

Thanksgiving Pictures!

2011-11-28T11:42:00.002-06:00

Before

After

and afterer

The Torch Passes

2011-11-27T15:25:00.002-06:00

I promise to post pictures later but I did want to write this before I forgot to mention how proud I am of my child.

My mother always had very traditional Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. Me? Not so much. I tried the last couple of years to share my traditions and Juls very graciously participated. Did she like it? Not so much. Did I know it? Never. My child has very good manners.

Last year, at Christmas, she asked if we would like to come over for dinner which, while not traditional, was delicious. A good pot of beef stew (two different versions, no less) is the food for which winter was invented.

This year, she asked if we would like to come over for Thanksgiving. It was WONDERFUL! We had brisket, green bean casserole, apple stuffing, glorified rice, olives, and two desserts, one an absolutely terrific fudge pecan pie that she made from scratch. It was just the five of us and it was a wonderful, lazy (for me) day filled with family, food, and football...and the Cowboys won!

It turns out she never liked my tradition but was afraid of hurting my feelings. Rusty convinced her that it would be all right - that the kids were supposed to grow up and take over the hosting of the holidays. He was right.

She is doing a spectacular job of growing up. I am looking forward to the beef stew for Christmas!

Traditions

2011-11-25T19:28:00.003-06:00

Today marked the 12th year that Moose and I have shopped together for the Salvation Army Angel Tree. Granted, when he was 2 months old, he didn't have much of a choice. OK, he still doesn't have much of a choice but this year was SO good.

It is a rule of mine that everyone gets a hardcover book for Christmas - and this includes Angel Tree recipients. We also get a toy or two and then a complete outfit including jacket and shoes. This is the first year that Moose requested a specific book in advance. It was one that he just finished reading and really liked. It turned out to be the one that I had bought him for Christmas last year that he didn't want to read for the longest time. Then he needed to write a book report and his mother, unfair person that she is, required him to actually read a book he had not already read. Guess what? I was right. He liked it.

Anyway, I stopped on the way this morning and bought the book. Then we went to the toy store where Jeffrey lives and bought some military guys and military vehicles. Then we went to the mall, picked an angel off the tree and proceeded to shop. We always try to pick a child the same age as Moose and today was no exception. We used to go from store to store looking at different clothes and we always ended up at Sears. I don't even like Sears but for the last 5 years, that is where we have ended up. The young man we picked today wore men's size clothing but we still did all right. We got a pair of jeans, a short sleeve shirt, a long sleeve thermal, a jacket and a hat, all the correct name brand, for under $75. It is a running joke in the family that we (Moose's mom and I) are not allowed to geek out some other person's child.

We stopped then at the shoe store and got a really cool pair of "Shaq's" and then Moose saw a necklace with a cross and shield and wanted to get it, too, so the "OPC" (other people's child)would know that God loves him, too. Obviously, we got it.

We dropped all of this stuff off with the Salvation Army ladies and then got a cookie and some water. We picked up a couple of things for Moose's mom and then, hanging on a display in the store window, was the ultimate in geekiness - an argyle sweater vest. Moose's mom LOVES argyle and I asked Moose if I could geek him out for his mom's Christmas present. He agreed and even agreed to wear it "cheerfully and with a pleasant countenance". He does make my heart sing. I promise pictures after Christmas!

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-23T18:24:00.000-06:00

Faces

2011-11-21T02:01:00.004-06:00

Mass this morning was very well-attended by the toddler population and their parents. About 6 rows ahead of us was a very cute little tow-headed boy somewhere between 12 and 18 months. He was very well-behaved and his dad and mom were just very calm folks. You know the kind. The surrounding toddlers ALL had pacifiers. We're talking somewhere around 4 to 6 other kiddoes, all within eyesight of the cute little boy, all sucking on their nasty, dirty pacifiers.

This baby did not whine. He did not cry. He did not fidget. He just stared. He stared first at one other child and then at another. He just stared. And his little face got sadder and sadder. I was trying to figure out when I had seen that face before. Then it hit me. He looked just like this:

Home

2011-11-17T09:14:00.002-06:00

Yesterday morning, I went out to breakfast with Shorty prior to a morning of errands and visiting. We went, as almost always, to the Ranch House. We sat in a booth and Joanne brought me coffee and Shorty a glass of water. Then Wayne (the Moon Man) came in and Shorty went table-hopping to visit and get caught up on what he had missed while he was gone.

All of this is to preface part of why this little corner of Texas feels so much like home. There is, at the Ranch House, a round table towards the front of the restaurant. I glanced at the table, through the salad bar and the grill area and just started smiling. There, at the table, were 5 or 6 of the elder statesmen from my parish and all of a sudden, it hit me.

They looked like my German uncles. I'm not sure why the identifier "German" is in there. I did not have any non-German uncles. There's just a look - a solid, trustworthy, stoic look - that I equate with my uncles and with a lot of the members of my parish.

Most of my uncles stayed in Iowa when Mom and Dad moved to California in the 40s. The visits, since everyone worked and money was never flush, were few and far between. They were, however, memorable. On my dad's side, I have very fond memories of Uncle Bud, who came out in the 50s with Aunt Eileen and my cousin Mike. On my mom's side, it would have to be Uncle Ole whom I remember the best. Uncle Ole and wife, Aunt Lorraine, came out several times but the time I remember the most clearly was the summer after Steve died and my oldest daughter was just a baby. My niece and nephew were visiting also. Uncle Ole was the penultimate grandfather. Kids and babies were drawn to him like ducks to water. The fact that he shared sips from his early morning schnapps probably didn't hurt. He was the one of mom's brothers who most resembled his dad, especially as he got older.

So, here I am, in a kind little corner of Texas. I belong to a church that, architecturally, is almost identical to the church I grew up in and is peopled by folks who look like family. No wonder I feel at home!

The Greatest Generation

2011-11-11T13:51:00.004-06:00

I was blessed, this morning, to be in class with some of my coworkers, more than one of whom is a veteran of our Armed Forces. We were talking about our veterans. I was telling them that my brother, a vet, had remarked that, although he served in the drafted Army, at least the guys only had to serve one tour of duty. We now have an all volunteer military and we just keep sending these guys back and back and back and back.

One of the guys I work with said that so many people, when they speak of veterans, think of WWII vets - the "Greatest Generation".

He said, and I could not agree more, that any vet, no matter when he served or where he served or how long he served or under what conditions he served IS the greatest of his generation. So here is to the greatest of all the generations - here is to our veterans.

God bless you and keep you. Thank you.

Fun Monday - Giving Thanks

2011-11-07T03:23:00.006-06:00

Fun Monday is once again trying to survive, resuscitated this week by Sayre. Sayre would like to know, at the beginning of this month, what it is that we are thankful for.

There are a ton of things for which I am grateful; family, friends, our military, a job that I love, my critters (even the sick one), etc.

I am going to focus today on the town in which I live. I love this town. Like most Texas towns, ours is built around the courthouse square. We have a lovely old courthouse which is still serving the town. Our town is small enough to feel like a small town and large enough, as the county seat, to provide more than enough places in which I can spend my paycheck. We have more churches than bars and more schools than restaurants. We have original cobblestone streets downtown, pavement through town, and caliche roads outside of town. We have a bowling alley, a movie theatre, an aquatic center, a YMCA with a new weight room for the teens, a community center and a very active senior citizen's center. We have a terrific public library, a hometown newspaper, our own radio station and a museum. We have a new hospital scheduled to open next month and wonderful people to staff it. We have a new branch of Amarillo College about to begin construction. We are, in this economy, still growing.

Our service organizations provide just that - service. Tuesday is election day which means that the Kiwanis is hosting a pancake supper. The Methodist church always has a breakfast for the hunters on the opening day of hunting season. The VFW provides both a place for remembering our vets and teaching our youth to honor the flag. We also have Elks and Shriners, Moose and Knights, Pilots and study clubs, all striving to make our town an even better place to be. The community center, the high school, and the mart of Wal take turns sponsoring blood drives. In reality, the main problem we have in November is that, with so many churches and organizations providing Thanksgiving baskets, we have to make sure that the recipient families are not duplicated. Our youth are currently holding blanket drives, canned food drives, and looking for more ways to serve.

No, we are not perfect. Yes, we have problems. This is not the post for that. This is the post in which I thank God that I not only live in Texas, but in this little corner of Texas where, according to my daughter, the biggest problem is that the people are "aggressively friendly."

Raspberries and Roses

2011-11-04T23:07:00.000-05:00

On Wednesday, I went to Lane Bryant to buy pants. Everything in the store was 40% off so I took a goodly chunk of change and went to buy 5 pair of black pants for work. I got to the store and there was one pair on the rack in my size. The nice lady checked in the back and found another pair. I bought both pair, different styles, and she commented that it was too bad that I was not one size smaller as they had "tons" of pants in that size.

I went home and put on a new pair of pants for class that night. They were loose in the waist, in the hips, in the thigh, and dragging on the ground. "Hurray," I thought. "I can go buy 4 more pair in the smaller size."

Today, I went to town to buy the pants. I got there and there were none in that size on the rack. A different sales girl asked if she could help me and I explained why I was there. She went to check in the back and I happily browsed, humming a little song under my breath. That is, I was humming until she returned and told me that they had NO pants that size. The girl who had waited on my 2 days ago was there and I turned on her and said, "But, SHE told me that there were TONS of pants in that size!" SHE went back to look and said that they were still there but that another customer had put 4 pair on hold until the 8th and she could call me if the customer did not pick them up. I told her I would rather she ordered me some and had them shipped to my house. She went to do so and then told me that the company did not have ANY in that size.

To say that I was not amused would be such an understatement. I left the store, rather loudly telling my husband that if I ever started to go in there again, he should shoot me.

We had lunch then with Juls and Rusty and it was a very nice meal. We laughed and snarked and solved the problems of the world.

Shorty and I then went to the mart of Wal to buy a steam cleaner for the carpet and a battery charger for the Lincoln so that he could go to a gun show with Rusty on Saturday. The cleaner, the liquid for the cleaner, the battery charger and a movie, along with a small cash advance came to a little over $500. This is not my complaint. My complaint is, that with 4 cashiers standing in the main alley waiting for customers, not ONE of them greeted us or asked us if we were ready or any other thing. We picked a line, the cashier rang up our purchase, I paid and we left. He never! smiled, made conversation, or asked any of the gazillion questions that I KNOW the mart's cashiers are supposed to ask.

I was so annoyed and so disheartened that I decided to make one more stop on the way home. I stopped at the United Grocery Store in Canyon, TX. I used to stop there almost daily but my job changed and I had not been there in a very long time. I walked in, browsed around and bought a thank you card and a couple of paperbacks. No fewer than 7 people greeted me. 2 cashiers asked if I was ready. The cashier I went to, Chase, was pleasant, conversational, smiling, efficient, and just generally nice. The girl who bagged my purchases smiled, spoke to me, and thanked me for my business.

The thank you card that I bought? It was to send to United because I had faith that their employees would still have the same wonderful attitude that they have always shown. The copies of the thank you card that I made after I wrote a little note? They will go to the home offices of Lane Bryant and the mart of Wal.

It's not hard, people. If you work with the public, smile. If you can't smile, get a different job.

Words Matter

2011-11-03T22:22:00.003-05:00

...or how political correctness and self-esteem protection are ruining our youth.

I know a person who is 21 years old. She graduated from high school. She has held one job in her life and that for a total of about 4 months. She is currently receiving food stamps, WIC, medicaid, housing assistance and other assorted monies supplied by our government. Oh wait, that's us. Yes, supplied by us. All told, she is the recipient of approximately $1900 monthly in aid.

This person was with my child in a government assistance office today. My child was acting as chauffeur. My daughter mentioned that she felt awkward, since she had never taken advantage of public assistance. This person said that she really resented people who did.

What?

I am not saying the people do not need help. People do need help. When I was 20 and widowed and left with a 4 month old injured child, I needed help. I applied for food stamps and got them. As soon as I got a job, I went to the food stamp office to tell them that I no longer required the help that I had been receiving. The lady there told me that I still qualified and spent some time trying to convince me to stay on them. I declined.

I think that maybe if we just called welfare, welfare, people would know that it was not an entitlement but an act of charity by those people who do support themselves and their families. As I used to tell my daughter, "You can call it a rock an elephant if you want to, but it doesn't make it so." So you can call it food stamps, but it is welfare. You can call it WIC (Women, Infants, Children), but it is welfare. You can call it Medicaid, but it is welfare. You can call it Housing Assistance, but it is welfare. And welfare is charity.

When I was little, I learned that the 3 theological virtues were faith, hope and charity and that the greatest of these is charity. Nowadays, I hear that the 3 virtues are faith, hope, and love and that the greatest of these is love. It is an act of charity, an act of love to take care of those who cannot care for themselves, be it permanently or temporarily.

I am not even going to address the fact that an unemployed, not making an effort to be employed, non-student is making as much in tax-free aid as I am making working full-time and paying the taxes that support her.

I just think that we are all so worried about not making someone feel bad because they need help that we have failed to realize that a great many of them don't feel bad. They think it is their right.

Hallowe'en Heroes

2011-10-25T18:44:00.004-05:00

My grandson goes to Holy Cross Catholic Academy. Since it is a Catholic school,Hallowe'en is celebrated, being originally a religious holiday (Hallowed Eve, the night before All Saint's Day). The paragraph below is taken from HCCA's facebook page and explains the parameters of their school costumes.

"This Halloween, HCCA will be celebrating the lives of moral heroes and heroines. Students may dress as someone whom they consider to be an example of virtue, integrity and a genuine concern for others. You may choose someone who lived a long time ago, or someone who is alive today. (Note: The person does not necessarily have to be a religious figure; there are plenty of moral exemplars who are not explicitly "religious"). Or you may choose a fictional character, a cartoon character, or a character from TV or the movies. The moral hero or heroine you choose does not even necessarily have to be a human being! The only requirement is that she/he/it be someone you admire because of the morally upright way in which they live. So... you have a little more than 3 weeks to get ready. Choose well, be able to explain why you chose the person you selected as a moral exemplar... and maybe you'll be one of our lucky winners! Prize suggestions are welcome; the grand prize will be announced soon!"

It turns out that Moose and his mom have differing opinions as to who or what was a suitable costume. I was lucky enough to pick up the Moose at school today. His mom and sister and nephew were with me and we started discussing his choice. Time is getting short and his mom's vacation ends tomorrow. I suggested Michael the Archangel, his mom suggested any cop or serviceman, I suggested any single mom who was working to support herself and her child(ren). He liked this last one and thought maybe he'd go as a waitress! His sister suggested a stripper and we reminded her that he did attend a Catholic school. Then, complete with light bulb over his head, he said, "I could be a bolton".

A bolton. What is a bolton, buddy? "You know, like Doug or Rhonda".

Ah, a Bolton!

His mom asked him to explain what made the Bolton's moral heroes. He said that they go to church, they do not take advantage of people, and they take care of animals.

Yep, heroes. He did well.

Soapbox Time! Again!

2011-10-17T21:14:00.003-05:00

I am doing this rant on my blog because if I did it on Facebook, I would be doing the very thing that I intend to rant about.

To all of my relatives: if you are having a problem with your spouse, child, co-workers, or the universe in general and dealing with this problem requires you to spew venom or air dirty laundry about your spouse, child, co-worker or the universe in general all over the internet - DO NOT DO IT!

First, no one really cares. If they did, they would be sitting next to you on the couch, watching chick flicks, eating ice cream sandwiches and commiserating with you.

Second, no one really cares. The person about whom you are spewing will, however, have written confirmation of every nasty, stupid, and juvenile thing you say not to mention the actual crimes to which you confess. Assault is a crime, you know.

Third, no one really cares. The "friends" you have on facebook are people who know people who know people who know people you thought you knew in high school. They are NOT really your friends. Your friends are the people who read your blog.

I addressed this to my relatives because I have already unfriended the "friends" who use a social networking site to be anti-social.

I feel better now. If you have a problem, call me. Send me a message. Send me an email. Ask for prayers. Just don't expect me to join in your hate-fest. Thanks.

Fall Food

2011-10-03T20:43:00.002-05:00

Sayre is hosting Fun Monday this week and she would like to know what foods we crave in fall. It seems only fitting that one of the first things I fix when the weather gets cooler is a recipe that I am pretty sure I found on Sayre's blog once upon a time.

I have, of course, tweaked it. It's what I do.

Crock pot roast

Take some vegetables, whatever you have on hand, although I favor the traditional carrots, onions and potatoes. Chunk them and put them in the bottom of the crock pot. On top of these, place a frozen roast. I prefer a nice little pork tenderloin. Put enough California blend garlic salt on the roast to completely cover it. Put the lid on and turn it on. I usually just turn it on high for however long it will cook. Can you tell that I am not really crock pot savvy?

That's it. I know it sounds too simple and easy to work but this is the best roast ever! Oh, and if you don't have veggies in your house, the supermarket carries a frozen stew blend (onions, potatoes, carrots, and celery) that works well also.

Enjoy!

Music to calm the savage breast

2011-10-02T23:05:00.003-05:00

I have changed my Church-going habits. I recently signed up for a study group that meets at 7:30 on Saturday evenings, right after the 6:00 Mass. This works out very well for me. I can get home early Saturday morning, sleep until the dogs wake me up and then go to Mass.

On my way Saturday, I got into a disagreement on the phone with someone. I was hot, tired, cranky, disgruntled and generally out of sorts when I got to Church. I asked God to take the garbage out of my mind and allow me to focus on why I was there.

I found His answer in the 2nd reading - Philippians 4:6-9

"Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing what you have learned and received and heard and seen in me. Then the God of peace will be with you."

I have several friends who were also touched especially by this reading. His timing is impeccable. Sometimes, words are the music that calms the savage breast.

Beware of Dog(s)

2011-09-30T07:03:00.000-05:00

On a lighter note, I NEED this sign...only redone with a Catahoula/Sharpei cross!

Soapbox Time!

2011-09-29T14:18:00.003-05:00

A school district near us removed from the shelves of it's "Intermediate and Middle School Library" a book that was deemed NOT age-appropriate. I am not going to mention this book by name or title. I am going to include a paragraph from this book which is about young adults at a resort in the Caribbean.

"I looked up and my heart plummeted, I swear, into my colon. Because there, standing above me and ripping off his shirt was the guy. The guy from the diving board. The guy with the muscular calves and, oh god, the swimsuit riding low enough for me to conjure up some serious imagery."

The above-referenced book was removed from a library whose clients are students from 5th through 8th grades. These kids are roughly 10 to 14 years of age.

I am old but I do remember being that age. I do not remember reading anything even similar to that until I was out of high school.

I remember, when I was in about 4th grade, being guided away from inappropriate books by our very wonderful town librarian.

I remember, when I was in high school and the Franco Zeffirelli production of "Romeo and Juliet" was in theatres. I was in an honors English class in high school and we were doing a comparison of "Romeo and Juliet" and "West Side Story". My high school planned a field trip so that we could see the movie. This was done after the priests had seen the movie. This was done after the nuns had seen the movie. This was done after a parents group had seen the movie. This was done after letters were sent to our homes and each and every one of our parents had the opportunity to view the movie themselves or to trust the school. My parents allowed me to go. One of the girls in my class was not allowed to go. Her parents made this choice. It was their choice to make. However, the rest of the class was allowed, with much discussion of proper behavior and appropriate response, to go. We did go and saw a very well-made movie. This movie is still one of my favorite versions of this story. Let me reiterate, though. I was in high school. Our parents and teachers still got to decide what we were exposed to.

The school board in the neighboring town followed procedure. The parents of a student had a concern with profanity and sexual content in a book their child got at the library. They went to the district. The district referred the matter to a review committee who, after reviewing the booked, deemed it not appropriate for the age group served by this particular school library.

I have been reading comments about this story in the newspaper and I am astounded by the number of people who say that, since you cannot keep your children from being exposed to sexually explicit images in song, movies, and television, you should not be able to have a book removed from a school library. When did they quit teaching critical thinking? This is not a freedom of speech issue. This book was not removed because it offended a particular race, creed, color, or religion. This book was removed because it is not appropriate for the age of the students who use that library.

Our job, as parents, teachers, grandparents, and adults in general, is to protect, to the best of our abilities, our children. If there is a parent of a 5th grader somewhere who thinks that their child needs to read this book, they can either buy it or get it from the public library. It just won't be available at their school library.

I say hurray for that school board for addressing the concerns of a parent and for having the courage to protect the children who are in their care.

Pain - or lack thereof

2011-09-27T09:33:00.004-05:00

This picture was taken in June, about a month after I had my first (and only) sciatica occurrence. I was on 3 different medications, taken, of course, at 6 different times of the day and living in absolute terror of feeling that pain again. Juls and I had planned our vacation for a long time so she drove and I hobbled and we both actually had a really good time!

All of this is to preface an amazing fact. Yesterday, I realized that I had forgotten to take the one and only nsaid that I am still taking for two whole days! For this amazing occurrence, I have the wonderful doctors at the Acute and Chronic Pain and Spine Center in Amarillo to thank. A little over a month ago (actually, the 11th of August), I had a "procedure". I have arthritis in my spine. It is what it is. The lovely doctor injected a cocktail of drugs into my spine. If the pain was relieved, then down the line, when that relief wore off, the doctor would take a laser and cauterize the nerves in those three bottom vertebrae. The pain was relieved, the limp disappeared, the cane was put in the back of the pickup and life became, once again, easy. I was always a little on edge, though, waiting for the pain to return. It hasn't and I quit the stronger medicine right away. By this week, all I am taking is prescription strength Aleeve twice daily....and I forgot to take it!!!!

Thank you, God, for the talent and the knowledge You give my doctors! and for my insurance covering almost all of it!

Secret Family Recipes

2011-09-22T15:26:00.002-05:00

I was reading Guideposts magazine the other night and, as usual, finished feeling slightly more uplifted than when I started. I always find some thought or nugget of inspiration to help me. This time? God help me, I found a recipe. It was not the healthy recipe that Guideposts includes on their recipe page. This recipe was tucked away inside an article about Kristin Chenowith, who is a talented actress and songstress and one of the tiniest people I have ever seen. Ready for her recipe? which she stole from Kristi Dawn but included in her autobiography? Here it is - and to all of my kids and grandkids, feel free to steal this as a family recipe!

The Top Secret Recipe for Kristi Dawn’s No Calorie Left Behind Butterfinger Pie

Crunch up six king-size Butterfinger bars. Smash them up in a plastic bag or beat them with a rolling pin while they’re still in the wrapper. Exercise your aggression. Very therapeutic.
Take a twelve-ounce deal of Cool Whip and mix it up with the candy-bar shrapnel.
Plop all that into one of those graham-cracker crusts. (Just get over yourself and buy the premade kind. Don’t be all Barefoot Contessa about it.)
Freeze! No, not you, the pie. I mean freeze in the freezer, not in the theatrical sense. This is important. If you skip this step, people will assume it’s French onion dip and stick their potato chips in it.
Serve with a smile on paper plates. The kind with the rippled edges, whenever possible.

Fun Monday - Movies That Make You Think

2011-09-19T02:20:00.000-05:00

Our hostess this week is Sayre, who makes me smile. She recently saw the movie, "The Help" and now wants to know what movies have we seen that make us think. I did see "The Help" and it made me think but I didn't want to be a copy cat. So I started thinking back to the movies that I watch over and over again.

I love musicals. I am the only person in my family who loves musicals with the exception of Julie, who only loves "Annie" because it makes me crazy.

I first saw this movie when I was in my 20s. Believe it or not, when it first came out, in 1967, I was not allowed to see it because Guinevere and Lancelot committed adultery. I rather miss that world.

Anyway, when I first saw this movie, I wanted the kind of love that Guinevere and Lancelot had - love that could crush a king, love worth risking everything for, love - to steal a line from "On a Clear Day" - "beyond anything".

I saw this movie again when I was in my 30s. I could not, having lived a little by then, believe the lack of loyalty and fidelity displayed by the two people Arthur trusted most. I no longer envied Guinevere and Lancelot. I was disdainful of them. I pitied them, that they would betray the man who loved them both.

In my 40s, when watching this movie, I was so angry at Arthur that I could not finish watching it. How could he? How could he put his ideals ahead of the woman that he had sworn to protect, to love, to honor, to cherish? How could he not fight for her? How could he just abdicate everything, including Guinevere's heroic rescue, to Lance? How could he succumb to the evil that was Mordred?

I watched this movie again not too long ago. I was just sad. Arthur lost his kingdom. Lance lost his honor. Jenny lost both of the men who defined her without ever discovering who she was. Ah, well, maybe in the convent. The only winner in this story is us - the inhabitants of the future, if we are smart enough to learn any of the lessons in this fable.

I still love the music. I love Camelot. I love the dream, the chivalry, the code of honor. Hmmm, must be time to watch it again.

Waiting

2011-09-15T20:28:00.002-05:00

Tonight, I had a meeting wherein we discussed readings for the church for Advent. There were several options and we took turns reading them aloud to see which ones spoke most to our souls.

We chose a booklet of reflections from Mother Teresa, which will be wonderful.

One of the other readings, though, is running through my head. We all know that whatever runs through my head must exit out of my mouth (or fingertips).

The writer, Mark Neilsen, asked why, during Advent, we still waited for Jesus to come? Hadn't He already been born, long ago, in Bethlehem? Yes, He had.

We wait, still, for Him to return in the future, as God promised.

Mr. Neilsen then made the point that we don't have to wait at all. We just have to ask. Jesus is waiting for us. Let me repeat that. Jesus is waiting for us, for me. All I have to do is ask and He will be with me. He will stay with me. He will protect me. He will guide me. He will laugh with me, and at me. He will comfort me. All I have to do is ask.

Amazing.

Tattoos

2011-09-12T01:56:00.005-05:00

I got my first tattoo when I was 31. I am planning my next one.

Tomorrow, Lily gets tattooed. I know of horses who get tattooed on their lip or their ear or some other part of their anatomy for identification purposes. The Lippizzans are tattooed and/or branded in several different places.

Such is not the case with Lily.

Julie can tell you all the technical names for what her horse is. Her horse is a paint. One of her horse's eyes is surrounded by white hairfurcoat (whatever it is that horses have). Horses whose eyes are thus positioned are prone to cancer of the eye. So, much in the manner of a football player, a black line will be tattooed around her eye to give her protection.

I was campaigning for a daisy or a sunflower. Juls wanted the Gene Simmons eye. Nope. The vet says a plain old line. Oh, well.

I am posting a before picture of Lily now.

OK, this is actually a picture of Julie on Lily. I just like the picture.

This is a better shot of Lily's eye.

The after shots will follow fairly soon, I hope.

Remembrance 2011

2011-09-11T06:22:00.000-05:00

We DO remember

Father Mychal's Prayer

Lord, take me where you want me to go;

Let me meet who you want me to meet;

Tell me what you want me to say, and

Keep me out of your way.

—Fr. Mychal Judge, O.F.M.Chaplain,

New York Fire Department

While researching Father Mychal, I came upon this picture of a stained glass window in his memory at St. Francis of Assisi Church in NYC.

Please keep all of our heroes, civilian and military, both home and abroad, alive and deceased, recognized and unrecognized, past and present and future, in your prayers.

I posted this last year and I probably will next year. I think that Father Mychal bridges the gap for me between the civilians who died on 9/11/2001 and the first responders who died then and the military who are still dying. He, as a priest, was a civilian. As the fire department chaplain, he was a first responder. As a warrior of God, he was, and is, the ultimate military hero.

How do we honor them?

2011-09-10T18:27:00.004-05:00

I have been thinking, today, of tomorrow. Tomorrow will be 10 years since 9/11/2001. There are a plethora of television specials and numerous memorial events, including one at Ground Zero. You know, they can name that holy space any name they want. To me, and I think a lot of other people, it will always be Ground Zero.

It is easy to honor our military. It is easy to honor our law enforcement. It is easy to honor our fallen firefighters. There are rituals already in place, steeped in history and tradition. We know the steps to take, the songs to sing, the prayers to say.

How do we honor those 2735 civilians who died in the World Trade Center? How do we honor those 87 passengers and crew members who were aboard American Airlines Flight 11 that hit the North Tower? How do we honor those 60 passengers and crew members who were aboard United Flight 175 that hit the South Tower? How do we honor the 36 passengers and crew members who were aboard United Flight 93 who died in Pennsylvania, having stopped 4 more hijackers from attacking another building? How do we honor the 64 passengers and crew members aboard American Airlines Flight 77 that crashed into the Pentagon? How do we honor the 70 civilians who died at the Pentagon?

I think that we honor them by living.

I think that we honor them, not just by the great and heroic acts that some of us will do, or have done, but by the little things, the every day things.

My husband, with his son, daughter-in-law, grandkids, grandkids-in-law, and assorted other family, will be at the drag races out in California this evening. I do not know what they plan for tomorrow.

I will be at the ceremony to commemorate the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks just before 8:00 a.m. Sunday at the flag circle at Veterans' Park. I will be at Mass at 9:00 a.m.. Then, I have a horse show (my daughter is riding), a Church meeting, and a Boy Scout family function in the evening. I will take care of my dogs. And through it all, I will remember. I will pray. I will thank God that I have the opportunity to do all of the mundane things that we all take so much for granted.

I will remember.

I love words!

2011-09-09T18:57:00.002-05:00

When I was a little girl, back before Pizza Hut was invented and when no one ate frozen foods (except vegetables and stuff that your mom made and froze, like pies) my mother bought a pizza kit called Appian Way Pizza. It came in a box and, as a special introductory offer, with it's own cookie sheet.

You made the dough, spread it in the cookie sheet, put the canned sauce on it and then the special package of cheese, which didn't melt. Very scary stuff. The scariest part was that it wasn't round! Everyone knows that pizza is round. That pizza was just wrong. I think we only had it once.

Fast forward to tonight. I wanted pizza for dinner and, since our local pizza place does not deliver south of the tracks, I took my refrigerated pizza dough out of the fridge. It was kind of stuck in the tube thing so I pried it out, pieced it together and cobbled together a dough that sort of resembled South America. I drizzled it with olive oil and then layered on sliced green olives, bacon crumbles and the custom blend pizza cheese from the great mart of Wal. Seventeen minutes later, I had a wonderful pizza.

No, it didn't have sauce. No, it wasn't round. No, it wasn't wrong.

It was artisanal.

Hearing Tests

2011-09-08T08:21:00.003-05:00

I was reminded today by a friend's prayer request of this little bit of family history. It actually explains so much.

When Moose was 2 months old, he and his mom and his dad and his four sisters all came to our house for Christmas. It was the first time that Shorty had met Moose's dad and siblings. Duck, also, but that's a whole 'nother story.

Anyway, the girls had the back bedroom and Moose's crib was in with his parents and Christmas was basically EVERYWHERE in the house. It was a wonderful, crazy, stressful, happy time and to say that Moose had everyone wrapped around his pinkie was an understatement.

Having said that, there was just something about the baby that didn't seem right. Juls and I had followed my mom's example from the day the baby was born and put him right in the middle of the house. No silence for one of our babies. Babies need to get used to the world. I remember when Juls was little and Mom put her in the middle of the living room and vacuumed around her!

Moose was a very good baby. He slept. He ate. He pooped. He slept. He ate ...well, you get the idea. The one thing that I didn't think he did well was respond to noise. I would stand over his little crib and clap my hands. NO REACTION! Absolutely none. I panicked and, being the sharing person that I am, spread this panic to his parents and his grampits. Moose's dad was in the Navy at that time and, after they got back to California, took the little man to the doctor for tests. By this time, Juls and I had already planned what steps we would take for her poor deaf baby for the next 18 years. We had researched schools and camps and therapies. We were prepared for anything.

Except the actual diagnosis.

The Navy doctor, after checking out the Moose and running some tests, said (and I quote), "His hearing is fine. He's just the youngest as*hole I've ever met".

Too much noise and stimulation, evidently. He didn't care for all the hoopla so he just checked out. That's a lot of control for a 2 month old!

So, today, please pray for my friends' grandson, Will. With all love, I hope that he is just another as*hole!

**the picture is from 2 years later. I just like it!

The Help

2011-09-06T05:23:00.000-05:00

When I first heard all of the buzz about the movie, "The Help" based on the book of the same name by Kathryn Stockett, I immediately ordered the book for my Nook.

While I like movies, I love books. I love the detail and the nuance often contained in a book and missing from a movie. I have to tell you, I loved this book.

I was a child of the late 50s and early 60s. I was as insulated as a middle-class child of that era could be. My parents did not have "help". We had my mother! None of my friends' parents' had "help". To be perfectly honest with you, I did not personally know a black person until I was in high school. Much of this book is foreign to me.

We did study current events in school, though, so I was aware of the civil rights movement. The physical manifestations of it just did not occur where I lived.

I have, since I have grown up, travelled a great deal across this country of ours. I have witnessed occasions of prejudice, though few and far between and not always against persons of color. I have heard the criticism of this book, chastising the author for daring to speak in the voice of a colored maid.

I think we should just thank her for speaking. If you have seen the movie, read the book. If you read the book, please stop and think. I know our world is not perfect. I know our country is not perfect. But can we not appreciate the fact that 45 years after Medgar Evers was killed in Jackson, MS a black man was elected President? I am not suggesting that we, as a country, sit on our laurels but can we not, just for a moment, appreciate the strides that have been made?

I am climbing off of my soapbox now. I am going to get a cup of tea, a slice (or two) or chocolate cream pie and sit and re-read my book.

Whose Story Is It?

2011-08-29T00:40:00.003-05:00

It is very hard to write my story because it is not just mine. It is my childrens', my husband's, my mom's, my dad's, my siblings', even my dogs'. It is very hard to write just about MY story.

Many years ago, amid much turmoil and strife, I was given the choice. Divorce your husband or lose your children. Stay with your husband and lose your kids or divorce your husband and maybe keep your kids. This choice was worded not so much as a request as it was an ultimatum. I felt trapped and backed into a corner. I felt scared and alone. I made my choice.

I cannot, in all honesty, say that I regret that choice. Living that life, the life that ensued from that choice, brought me where I am today and made me who I am. I do regret the pain that making that choice caused other people.

Leaving my husband now, amid very little turmoil and strife, has once again caused pain to those whom I love the most.

I can only say that I am no longer trapped, no longer backed into a corner, no longer scared or alone. I know who I am and what I am worth. I know who you are and what you are worth and what kind of example I want to set for you.

I want you to be strong in the love of God. I want you to be as blessed as I have been and as I am now. I want you to make better choices than I did but to know, that if you don't, you always can.

Bonnie the Pack Rat

2011-08-25T08:11:00.002-05:00

We own 3 real dogs and a Chihuahua for reasons which have already been discussed. Bonnie is the chihuahua. I have always maintained that chihuahuas are not dogs at all but vermin. I now have proof.

If any of you have ever been visited by a packrat or even an ordinary house mouse, these pictures will make more sense to you. We all know that mice chew, destroy, shred, and mutilate things in order to feather their nests. I now take you to......

Bonnie making her way out of bed

Bonnie rearranging her bed

What the dog - oh, wait, the vermin - left.

The gold bed in the background is Bonnie's actual bed. The last time I saw a dog in it, it was the Boxer and no, I didn't have my camera. Holly is fond of sleeping with her head in the little dog bed. The windowpane check in the foreground is one of 4 large beds in our bedroom. It's matching counterpart is on the other side of our bed. The 3 large dogs take turns sleeping on them, depending on who gets to the good ones first. That is a $70 bed. Bonnie has systematically burrowed, chewed and removed the stuffing from the bed. She can now make her way inside the bed, throw out more stuffing, and make herself comfortable.

She is a very expensive free dog.

Summer Vacation 2011, The Last Day

2011-08-23T16:15:00.002-05:00

On the way home from Fredericksburg, we stopped in Big Spring for lunch. As we drove into town, we saw this:

Yet another hovering helicopter

There had been a grass fire earlier and this helicopter was checking for hot spots and dumping retardant on them.

We had lunch at Al's where the brisket was good, the potato salad was mashed and the cole slaw was pink. Not bad, just different!

and this is why I love Al's! and small town Texas towns!

Between Big Spring and Post, we saw this coming up on our left.

As seen on TruTV -

on Black Gold, it's the Big Dog Drilling Rig!

From here we drove safely home, collapsed into our respective lives and are planning the next trip! Thanks for a great vacation, Juls!

Anticipation? or Trepidation? or Nausea?

2011-08-23T10:05:00.002-05:00

There need to be more words. Do you remember how you used to feel the day after Labor Day when school started? When your pencils all still had erasers and your lunchbox wasn't dinged and your new school shoes weren't scuffed? When the whole bright, beautiful year was just waiting for you to unfold it?

That's sort of how I feel...when I don't feel like throwing up.

I am starting over and I am a little old to be starting over. There is no rush to my moving since I will be dogsitting for my own dogs for the next month or so while Shorty is on a road trip. Now I know how dads feel when someone says they're babysitting their own kids. Anyway, I digress.

I am not changing towns, just houses. I have found a rental which is really quite nice. It's a duplex with off street parking and big trees and someone else to mow the lawn. However, with interest rates what they are right now, we are contemplating trying to buy a house for me to move into.

First step taken today. We met with the mortgage lady at the bank and got the paperwork to fill out. I will probably do that tonight since I am sleep deprived today. I do feel a lot like I did, though, when I was taking the entrance exam for high school.

So, pray for me (and us). Thanks, y'all.

Summer Vacation 2011, Day 7

2011-08-18T15:28:00.003-05:00

On which day, Juls and I left Corpus Christi and returned once again to Fredericksburg.

Does anyone know how to keep humidity out of your camera lens?

A truly amazing store in Fredericksburg

that goes on...

...and on.

This is where your knight in shining armor lives.

This may be my next purchase...

but I would have to put wings on it!

Baby Pictures - Corpus Christi 2011

2011-08-13T15:12:00.004-05:00

This is my baby. This is the smile you see EVERY time you point a camera at her face. There are NO non-smiling pictures of Juls. She decided early on that there would only be smiling pictures. I love this face.

Irish eyes (even is she is half German)

The requisite picture of the picture taker.

Then I got bored, waiting for the boat to depart on it's little cruise and I just started clicking. I think it was the sea air but Juls indulged me with an expression or two. I do have her permission to share!

Oh, fine!

You know I hate this

Smile? I show you a smile!

Sad Juls

Happy Juls

Smart alec Juls

You're actually taking these?

Seriously?

Wow. You do know that I love you...

... a lot!

Summer Vacation 2011, Day 6, Part Two

2011-08-13T01:01:00.000-05:00

This photo was shot through the rails of a boat, underway. Please excuse the aspect and the focus. Thanks.

This is the other boat which tours the bay. I am VERY glad we booked the one through the Aquarium!

This is the placard with the dolphins' names and a brief history. A lot of the following pictures are about Shadow. We do not call him Shadow. We call him...

Bob.

Bob spends what seemed to us an inordinate amount of time on the bottom of the tank, just hanging out. To be honest, at first we thought he was...

dead.

See what I mean?

This little boy is saying, "fissie seepin'".

And then, repeatedly, Bob would bob to the surface, get air and sink himself again. He did not cruise nor cavort nor caper. He sank. He bobbed. He laughed.

This is the only decent picture out of approximately 37 taken of the art work done on the overpass piers. I liked it. I liked it a lot. Julie laughed at my efforts.

Back home for the night to Corpus Christi NAS where, by the way, they sell Vera Bradley in the Exchange!

Hope = The Greatest Gift

2011-08-12T18:23:00.000-05:00

Last Saturday, on August 6, Juls and I attended the Amarillo Diocesan Council preparatory to the beginning of Faith Formation classes concurrent with the beginning of the school year. I teach 5th graders, theoretically about their faith, but in all honesty, class often decomposes into a question and answer period about current events.

There were several gems that I gleaned from the presentations. Sister Carol Cimino made sure to remind us that, while the Church appreciates us donating our time and energy, She really doesn't care what we think. We are to teach what the Church teaches and not what we believe. OK, that's fair.

She also said, that in this day and age of instant, global news with it's gloom, doom, and despair, hope is the greatest gift that we can give these children.

I grew up hearing, as I'm sure you also did, this quote from 1 Corinthians 13:13

"So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love." This is what I have always known - that the greatest of these is love. Love of God leads to love of self, love of others, love of righteousness, love of justice, love of all that is good and holy.

Yet hope is the greatest gift?

I think it is. I think that if we love God, if we love ourselves, if we love others, including these children, we must give them hope. We must give them the talent to see the world through lenses of hope, through rose-colored glasses, through the eyes of Pollyanna. When all that they hear in the news is war, murder, rioting, starvation, suicide and hatred, we must give them the tools to see peace, life, justice, solutions, and love. We must teach them that the world is not a terrible place. The world is a wonderful creation, given to us by God, to cherish and of which we are to be good stewards. We must teach them that the world is inhabited by wonderful, caring, loving people who never make the news. We must teach them that every day lives are saved, disasters are averted, food and medicines are donated and distributed, friends are made and hope, in the name of love, in the name of God and His Son and the Holy Spirit, will prevail.

We must teach them that they are not the problem. They are the solution. They are the hope of the world. To do this, we must give them hope.

Summer Vacation 2011, Day 6, Part One

2011-08-12T17:57:00.003-05:00

On our second day in Corpus Christi, Juls and I went to the Texas State Aquarium, directly adjacent to the USS Lexington Museum.

This is the entrance, where you walk through a curtain of water. Very cool.

Texas size turtle!

The aquarium also has a birds of prey show in conjunction with their rehabilitation program. This guy was in residence when we were there.

So was this guy (or girl) nesting in the corner.

Julie, the tortugas, and the coastal breeze.

Because Julie insists that Moose will want pictures of his Gram.

The Wetlands, built just inside the breakwater.

Dolphins. More to come. Way more to come!

This is the boat on which we toured the inner harbor.

Such a tension filled day!

God's in His heaven and all is right with the world!

Heading out!

Pain? I don't got to have no stinking pain!

2011-08-11T18:24:00.004-05:00

God bless my mom, my sister, and Julie.

When I was 16, I went to my sister's house to help out with her 2 year old when she had the new baby. At least, this is what I was told. In all reality, and with the clarity of hindsight, I think I went to my sister's house so my mom would know where I was and what I was doing.

I am sure that I do not have the medical details right but I will tell you what I remember. My sister had a "saddle block" which at that time involved injecting not only drugs into the spinal system but also gas. I do not know what kind. I do know that part of the recovery instructions involved staying flat. Absolutely flat. For 3 days.

We, as a family, are not great at following directions. The three of us girls, in particular, follow the example of my mom, who is one of the great stoics of all time. We were also brought up in a culture of, when given any trouble, offering it up to God. We were not great at pampering ourselves or putting ourselves first.

My sister moved. The top of her head tried to come off. It made a definite impression on me.

Fast forward 4 years. I was pregnant and knew, beyond anything else that I knew, that I was NOT having a saddle block. No one was sticking needles in my back. No one did. I had both of my girls using natural childbirth. It hurt like the devil but at least the top of my head did not try to remove itself.

Fast forward 26 years. My daughter was pregnant and allowed me to be present while she gave birth to the Moose. She knew, beyond anything else that she knew, that she did NOT want to be in pain. I am not sure what they called it in 1999 but my daughter, who despises needles, allowed an anesthesiologist to stick a needle in her back.

My son-in-law and I sat with Juls. The only way you could tell that she was having a contraction was the way that her big toe twitched and the fact that you could see the contraction on the monitor. We watched her toe and laughed at her. I watched her son be born with barely a pain. It made a definite impression on me.

Fast forward 11 years. I went to take a step and my right leg refused to hold me. I did not fall but the pain was, literally, debilitating and excruciating. I cancelled the class I was supposed to teach that night and Shorty took me to the emergency room. There they did x-rays of my calf and ruled out a blood clot. They sent me home with Aleeve and told me to elevate it. I still could not walk.

The next day, I went to see my primary care physician, explained the pain to him and he immediately diagnosed sciatica and ordered a set of x-rays on my lower back to check for a pinched nerve. He ordered some better pain meds and sent me home. Turns out, I did not have a pinched nerve but the doctor did say that I had "significant" arthritis in my spine. I did not even know that you could get arthritis in your spine. He referred me to a pain specialist at the Acute and Chronic Pain and Spine Center.

There, I was once again examined and sent off for a Doppler of my leg to rule out blood clots and an MRI to figure out what was going on. I do have significant arthritis in my spine, specifically L4, L5, and S1. The game plan is to inject steroids in the facet joint between these vertebrae and see if that gives relief. If it does, they will use a laser to deaden the nerves between those vertebrae, thus completely doing away with the pain. Sounded good, except for the needle in the spine part. I prayed about this and I kept remembering, not my sister, but my child.

Today, I had the first injection, on the right side. Tomorrow, I get the second injection, on the left side. I try not to think about the fact that they do one side at a time so that, if they paralyze you, it's only on one side! The procedure - that's what they call it, a procedure - was painless. Now that the anesthetic has worn off, there is some minor pain at the injection site but not much at all.

So, in addition to thanking my doctors, I would like to thank the women in my past: my mother, who taught me to "suck it up", my sister, who showed me the importance of following doctor's instructions, and my daughter, who showed me how to not be a coward. Thanks, y'all!

Peach-eaters!

2011-07-29T07:13:00.003-05:00

I was raised in northern California as a bleeding heart liberal. I'm not sure how Shorty was raised but by the time we got married, we were both conservative right-wing war mongers. Yes, both descriptive phrases are tongue-in-cheek. The fact remains that while we live in a fairly conservative part of Texas, there are parts of Texas that harbor - wait for it - liberals! Our personal descriptive phrase for such persons is "Birkenstock-wearing, tree-hugging, gorilla-kissing, peach-eating, Commie rat buggers".

However, 4 years ago, fondly remembering the peach tree in my parents' side yard, I bought a spindly little peach tree for around $17 at the Mart de Wal.

It has flowered in the past but the wind has always stripped it of it's buds long before fruition.

Until this year.

This year, in the midst of the drought, and with copious watering, we have peaches. They are not the white-flesh peaches of my childhood but they ARE peaches!

Imagine my surprise the other morning when I got home from work. Several of the branches were broken off. I walked into the yard, wearing my Crocs (not Birkenstocks, mind you), walked past the black dog lying in a crescent around the oak tree and observed the white dog hunkered down over something. I got closer and Holly looked up, peach juice dripping from her chin, with the "who, me?" look. Now, I am not a communist and as far as I know we have no gorillas in the area but it's getting close, folks. It's getting close. Between the 3 of us, we are the "Croc-wearing, tree-hugging, peach-eating Conservatives".

Summer Vacation 2011, Day 5, Part Two

2011-07-28T15:53:00.005-05:00

In the afternoon, we went to see the Lady Lex. She is not only part of our family naval history, she is part of our country's naval history. She belongs to Texas. She lives in Corpus Christi. As most of you know, as long as a ship is on the water, she is alive.

The Lady Lex, aka The Grey Ghost, aka CV-16

This is as close as Juls and I come to being beach bunnies. We love being near the ocean but we do not like the sand - it's dirty - and we do not go in the ocean 'cause fishies swim in their own pee. It is what it is.

Go Navy!

The walkway up to the ship. Thank goodness they also have a lovely little jitney to run us old, crippled, fat people up the ramp!

One of the planes onboard

Juls has always been attracted to MPs.

Just hope I'm not the person in her sights

Shooting blind!

The Rising Sun flag is explained in the next shot. Just click to enlarge.

If you are reading this in a book, the flag above is where a kamikaze pilot hit the Lex on November 5, 1944. 50 were killed and 132 were injured. May they rest in peace.

One last picture. The building in the foreground is the Texas State Aquarium. See you there tomorrow.

Summer Vacation 2011, Day 5 Part One

2011-07-28T08:19:00.002-05:00

Leaving San Antonio and the family behind, Juls and I headed for Corpus Christi. Neither one of us had been there before but I needed water, lots and lots of water. I was not disappointed!

As we were leaving San Antonio, we passed Ruth's Chris Steakhouse, just 2 doors down from our motel. Maybe next time!

Ahem! Miss? Tickets for texting go with the driver!

Water? Is that really water? Big water? Hallelujah!

As we drove to our lodging for the next two days, this reminded us that the Navy Lodge was, in fact, on an actual working naval facility.

NAS Corpus Christi

How many Vera Bradley patterns can you identify?

The view from our room, through the screen. This has got to be one of the very best places to stay in all of Corpus! Thanks, Shorty, for making this possible for us.

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

2011-07-27T03:24:00.002-05:00

This is a hard one to write. I have my blogs bound into a book as a gift for myself at Christmas. It is sort of a combination scrapbook, photo album, and journal. To only chronicle the good would be extremely dishonest - sins of omission, you know.

Shorty and I are separating. There is no screaming, no drama, no recriminations. There is also no marriage any more.

I will be leaving the house, probably the first of September-ish. It is the most equitable thing to do, money wise. It's scary and sad and exciting all at the same time. I am not leaving town or changing jobs or anything like that. I am just moving out.

There are no sides to take so I hope that all of our friends remain OUR friends. That's it, I guess. I love him. He loves me. Sometimes it's not enough.

Summer Vacation 2011, Day 4

2011-07-24T19:13:00.004-05:00

This should be called the Nicholai edition. Keep scrolling and you'll see why!

Julie, facebooking at breakfast

We went to Isaac and Gi's for a new Nicholai fix

Nicholai and his Great-Grandma. Boy, that makes me sound old!

Nicholai, ready to face to day, all color coordinated.

His only laugh, for his Grandma!

He does love his Grandma!

House hunting

His grandma bought him a bouncy so his mom and dad could actually put him down - a first for him!

He seems to approve!

Isaac and Nicholai

Kisses

Melissann and Anjelia

A very long day!

We had pizza for dinner so the littlest man did not have to go out again. Then Juls and I went back to our motel and, on the way, saw the horse-drawn carriages in the downtown area, all lit up. The pictures did not come out but next time we will ride one and I will take better photos!

Summer Vacation 2011, Day Three, Part Two

2011-07-23T21:28:00.002-05:00

On our way out of the motel, the dining area

Nicholai with Isaac's mom, the other grandma

Nicholai with Juls

Getting ready to go out to dinner

Nicholai and his mama

The underpass lights on the way back to the motel!

Summer Vacation 2011, Day Three, Part One

2011-07-22T08:25:00.002-05:00

Juls and I woke up the next morning and decided, while it was still relatively cool, to take a cruise on the Riverwalk. These pictures have no great significance. They just make me happy.

I think it's the symmetry of this picture that Ilike.

One of the 37 pictures I have of Julie facebooking at different locations.

There IS a light at the end of the tunnel.

Who doesn't love a waterfall?

Traffic jam on the river!

On the way back to our motel - Juls and I on public transporation!! There was a trolley stop just outside our motel and an all day pass was $4.00 Sure beat trying to find parking downtown.

Summer Vacation 2011, Day Two, Part Two

2011-07-21T08:13:00.004-05:00

After we got through at the Museum of the Pacific, we hit the road to San Antonio, to Julie's first grandchild. I should have cropped this picture, but I didn't. There are LOTS of flags flying in Texas and I loved this one. I think it's also attached to the 987 acres Juls wants to buy when she wins the lottery!

Flags a'flying!

This is our room at the Best Western Sunset Suites Riverwalk, San Antonio. I cannot recommend this motel highly enough. Perfect location, perfect (for us) amenities, no pool, less kids. All good. We checked in and then, via OnStar, made our way to:

baby Nicholai!

This picture is to document the shaken baby syndrome for later - just kidding! Spent some time with the kids and then we all (Missy included) went to dinner at an Asian buffet restaurant. Took the kids home and Juls and I made our way back to downtown, once again thanks to OnStar!

The Three Most Important Words

2011-07-19T01:50:00.003-05:00

I was just reading an article by Jackie Hance about the loss of her 3 daughters in a horrific traffic accident. For those who don't remember, the Hance girls, ages 8, 7, and 5, were passengers in a vehicle driven by their aunt who, after going the wrong way up an exit ramp, continued onto the highway and hit an SUV head-on in 2009.

The article was about going on, surviving. Mrs. Hance, who is a talker, asked several priests "why?" in the days and months that followed the deaths of her children. She says that one of them, at least, told her that the girls "needed to be together". She could not and does not understand why, if that is the reason, God could not have just allowed them to be together here.

I have never, thank God, had a child die. I have had a husband die in an accident and I have asked "why"? I did not ask priests. I just asked God and when I did not get the answer I wanted, or any discernible answer at all, I quit talking to Him.

For a time, I went to a Lutheran church and the pastor there told this story. He was unprepared with a sermon one Sunday as he had spent the day before with a family who had lost a child, an infant, to illness. The pastor, a father of 3 little girls himself, had prayed all the way over to the house for the right words, for ANY words, that would comfort this family. He said that he was amazed when the mother told him that she understood, that it was God's will. He did not disagree with her then but he was up all night thinking about that. He came to the conclusion that he did not believe that it was God's will - that he did not think that God decided to give a child an incurable illness. He believed that God allows the world to unfurl and unfold and then what God does - the miracle of God - is that He gives us the grace to not only get through the worst things but the chance to make something good come of them.

This sermon touched my heart. It took me years, still, to find my way back to my Church but I did remember that God loved me. I remembered that I believed in Him and to look for the good in all things.

I was thinking of the pastor's parable when I was reading Mrs. Hance's story. I wish that the priests that she had talked to, indeed, all of us, would remember that sometimes the three most important words are "I don't know".

Tell Laura I Love Her- Ray Peterson

2011-07-17T04:22:00.001-05:00

I had the television on in the background this evening while I worked and this song came on. This song used to make me cry when I was a teenager, sob when I was in my early 20s, and now that I am older, it belongs to one of my funny/sad memories.

As most of you know, my first husband died in a car accident when he was 26 and I was 20. We were in a Ford Mustang and the car that hit us was an Olds Toronado. To this day, I will not own a Mustang, nor will I willingly get into one. I just can't breathe.

Anyway, months after my husband died, one of my best friends, Helen, called me up to ask me to a movie. I am pretty sure that my mom put her up to it, but I can't vouch for that. I said yes and Helen came to pick me up.

She pulled up out front in her snazzy little Mustang. I just couldn't get into it. Helen went home and got her parents' big old Park Avenue, for which I thanked her immensely. I got in the car and this song was playing. I started crying and Helen changed the radio station.

There must have been an oldies revival that summer because "Deadman's Curve" by Jan and Dean was on the next station. I kept crying and Helen changed the radio station.

"Honey" by Bobby Goldsboro was on the next station. I kept crying and Helen changed the radio station.

"Leader of the Pack" by the Shangri-La's was next. I kept crying and Helen gave up. We decided that the universe had it in for me that night and that we would try again another day. God bless her, we did try another day and went to a movie (in her parents' car).

Now, when I hear one of those songs, I do not just remember my husband's untimely death. I remember my girlfriend's love, empathy, and patience - and I smile.

Summer Vacation 2011, Day Two, Part One

2011-07-15T07:51:00.002-05:00

When Juls and I woke up in beautiful, downtown Fredericksburg, we had a leisurely breakfast provided by our motel. Actually, it was leisurely until Juls noticed the dead cricket suspended in the spider web beneath a table in the breakfast room. We toured around town and picked out the houses we would buy if we won the lottery.

Then we went to the National Museum of the Pacific War, which is attached to the historic Nimitz Hotel in Fredericksburg. I am not by nature a war aficionado but I think the sign below sums it up.

Once outside, and all of the outer grounds are yours free of charge by the way, we started with the Plaza of the Presidents, honoring the ten consecutive presidents, spanning the years from 1941 to 1992, who served in our county's armed forces during WWII.

The Plaque at the Plaza of the Presidents

The individual memorials, outlining each President's branch of the military and years of service, along with an engraved facial representation.

Part of the Japanese Garden of Peace, which was a gift from a Japanese admiral to Admiral Nimitz, in thanks and recognition of his honor and courage.

This is not an official memorial tribute, but one left by a family member of a troop lost on board the USS Intrepid. There are individual tributes on the common memorial for the ship, as well as memorials for all of the ships lost in the Pacific during WWII. Seeing all of those faces, most of them so young, just breaks my heart as did this memorial offering.

The Admiral Nimitz Foundation, located across the street from the museum.

Juls and I spent about 3 hours at the museum and did not get to see it all. Admission to the museum is good for 2 days and you can come and go. The only thing missing was tissue stations.

Summer Vacation 2011

2011-07-08T14:41:00.000-05:00

I have a LOT of pictures from my summer vacation. Julie and I went to Frederickburg, San Antonio, and Corpus Christi. We had planned on Assateague Island but Julie thought it more important to see her first grandchild. Go figure.

Anyway, I am going to post 4 or 5 pictures from each day. This was day one in Fredericksburg. We got there fairly late in the afternoon and just sort of explored around.

Tiles in the tub featuring local landmarks.

Main Street and one of my favorite stores.

Where we had dinner. The bourbon orange pecan pie was tremendous.

Inside one of my favorite stores. When they say "Variety Store", they're not kidding.

Remember when it was still fun?

2011-07-07T14:32:00.002-05:00

This morning, Bubba got outside almost early enough to get the yard done before it got too hot. He will finish tomorrow. He promises. I believe.

When did he get SO grown up?

Making sure to clear the frog habitat!

Supervising

Sure that he could do it better and glad that he doesn't have to.

Beginnings - and endings

2011-07-04T03:35:00.002-05:00

I recently learned that my sister's husband died. I read his obituary in the newspaper from where they live.

I remember, in a drug-fogged memory and from family stories, the first time I met him.

My first husband died in a car accident when I was 20. My mom and brother came to the hospital and, after settling my injured child in a different hospital, took me home to Mom's to deal with the minutae entailed in a funeral.

I was on pain meds for some minor injuries, mainly road rash, and on valium for superglue.

My sister, Mary, the oldest in the family, flew home from wherever it was she had been vacationing. She brought her boyfriend with her. It seems a funny word to use, boyfriend. Mary is 13 years older than I am and Tom was 16 or 17 years older than she. I had never met him before and, if recollection serves, neither had the rest of the family.

Mary had brought with her some suitable funeral dresses for me to try on. I was a 20 year old new mom and lived mostly in levis and t-shirts. The few dresses I did have were not only not black, but were much too short to be suitable for a young widow. These things did matter then.

I remember trying on dress after dress. I would put one on with Mary's help, trying to be careful not to a) hurt me and b) get salve on her clothes! I would walk into the living room and Tom, sitting on the sofa, would look at me, look at Mary and shake his head. We did this little pas-de-trois 3 or 4 times.

Finally, I put on a grey and cream dress with matching coat and Tom finally nodded. I heard later that he told Mary that if I had come out looking as horrible as I had in the first few dresses one more time, he was personally going to take me shopping.

4 years later, Mary and Tom were married.

32 years later, may he rest in peace and may God have mercy on his soul. I am glad that Mary, on whom we all leaned for so many things, had Tom on whom to lean.

Marriage as Sacrifice

2011-06-28T00:13:00.003-05:00

Saturday, I went to catechitical training in Amarillo. The subject was morality. During the course of the 3 hour seminar, Father Neusch referred to the sacrament of marriage as a sacrifice. He pointed out that, when you marry, you MUST sacrifice a whole lot of other things - and people.

I had not considered that. I grew up in the Disney era of "happily ever after" and truly believed it. I also grew up knowing that marriage, like the other sacraments, is a gift from God, instituted by His son, our Lord, Jesus Christ. I looked at marriage as a gift, a blessing, and the answer to all my girlhood prayers.

I was often, and sorely, disappointed.

I do not now, nor have I ever, physically cheated on my spouse. I have flirted and I have failed, often, to put my spouse's legitimate needs ahead of my own. I am not suggesting, nor was Father, to put our spouse's immoral, unholy, or illegal needs ahead of our own. I guess that I am talking more, at least in my case, about the small, everyday things. I know that I could have been more generous of spirit, more courteous, more mindful of my spouse's emotional, spiritual, and physical needs.

I know this will not come as a shock to those of you who truly know me, but I can be very selfish, sarcastic (and yes, Julie, I hear you laughing -sarcastically, I might add) and not very nice. I am, though, less selfish, sarcastic and mean than I used to be. It is a struggle.

When I was young and something bad happened, the nuns told us, always and often, to "offer it up to God". By doing so, we would be sharing, in the suffering that Jesus endured when He was here on earth. I just never thought about offering up my marriage to God.

I will now.

Thank you, Father.

Fun Monday - the potluck version

2011-06-13T20:51:00.007-05:00

Our hostess this week is Sayre, the smiling one. She would like to know" What is your favorite cook-out food and/or recipe? OR What special dish are you known for at gatherings of family or friends?" This is a new favorite potluck recipe for me. I have made it twice in the last two weeks after finding it at "A Taste of Home". I grew up in California and spent a lot of time in family owned Italian restaurants. This tastes like summer to me, and also reminds me of the tomatoes my mom used to get. Enjoy!

Ingredients

3/4 pound sourdough bread, cubed (about 8 cups)
2 tablespoons olive oil
2-1/2 pounds tomatoes (about 8 medium), chopped
1 can (15 ounces) white kidney or cannellini beans, rinsed and drained
1 can (14 ounces) water-packed artichoke hearts, rinsed, drained and quartered
1 cup thinly sliced roasted sweet red peppers
1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, thinly sliced
1/3 cup thinly sliced red onion
1/4 cup Greek olives, quartered
3 tablespoons capers, drained
DRESSING:
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
3 tablespoons minced fresh parsley
3 tablespoons olive oil
3 tablespoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
3 teaspoons minced fresh thyme or 1 teaspoon dried thyme
1-1/2 teaspoons minced fresh marjoram or 1/2 teaspoon dried marjoram
1-1/2 teaspoons minced fresh oregano or 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1 garlic clove, minced

Directions

In a large bowl, toss bread with oil and transfer to a baking sheet. Bake at 450° for 8-10 minutes or until golden brown. Cool to room temperature.
In a large bowl, combine the tomatoes, beans, artichokes, peppers, basil, onion, olives, capers and bread.
In a small bowl, whisk the dressing ingredients. Drizzle over salad and toss to coat. Serve immediately. Yield: 6 servings.

Recipe and photo courtesy of "A Taste of Home".

PS: I did use fresh basil but dried spices for the oregano, etc. Also, I added browned Italian sausage (out of the casing) to make it a main dish for church on Sunday. It was VERY good!

Fun Monday - Not Me

2011-05-16T01:24:00.004-05:00

Roger at A Screed in Time is still hosting Fun Monday and wants to know, very simply, which is my favorite muppet.

This is very simple for me. I do not have a favorite muppet. I know this makes me sound un-American but I blame the muppets and Sesame Street for the downfall of American education.

There was a time, believe it or not, when children had an attention span of longer than 4 seconds. They learned without knowing that they needed also to be entertained. Along came Sesame Street, in 1969, when I was already in high school and not exposed to it.

Then came the early 70's when I had my children. I watched it once or twice and decided that I did not want my children to learn to be frenetic. They seemed to have a handle on that all by themselves.

Sorry, America. I do not have a favorite muppet. I do have two children who are capable of paying attention for more than a minute or two at a time. They can even sit through an entire class, or religious service, or movie all at one time. Of this, I am proud.

Fun Monday - Ma

2011-05-07T19:25:00.004-05:00

Roger, who is hosting again this month, wanted to hear about some memories of our mothers. This topic is difficult for me so I am reposting this that I wrote in May of 2008. It is all still true and my mother, God love her, turned 94 in April. The topic, in 2008, was heroes.

OK, this may sound a little weird, but my hero is my mother. I have not spoken to my mother in 20+ years. I guess a more accurate statement would be that she has not spoken to me in 20+ years.

She is still my hero.

I learned from my mother how to shop. This sounds frivolous, but I am talking about shopping for food and clothes. There were certain food items that, in my mother’s mind, would not be purchased if their price got above a set amount. These were not luxuries but things like mayonnaise. If Best Foods got above $.39, we did without. I learned, when shopping for clothes, to always buy the very best that you could afford and to buy classic styles.

I learned from my mother how to be a friend. When I was in 1st or 2nd grade, our neighbor’s husband was hurt in a construction accident. He underwent numerous brain surgeries and was left less than whole. Our neighbor, Honey, kept her husband at home. She, who had never worked, went back to college, got her LVN and went to work to support the family and care for her husband. She did not do this alone. My mother went with her. They graduated together, worked together, and retired together. Honey has since died. Her husband died when I was 19.

I learned from my mother how to be faithful to my religion. My mother never missed Mass. She went every Sunday, even if she could not, because of work, go with the family. She attended Church on every Holy Day. She dragged us kids whether we wanted to go or not. She worked, in part, so that she and Dad could afford to send my brother and me to parochial schools. She observed those domestic rites of the Church that are slowly coming back - weekly family rosaries, holy water at home, and religious art. There is not a single doubt in my mind that, when I left the Church, the rosaries and novenas started and that she prays for me still. And, yes, I found my way back.

I learned from my mother how to be polite and gracious. I learned that there are certain responses that are required to certain situations. This is a gift not to be taken lightly. Good manners have stood me in good stead through some very tumultuous times. Yes, ma’am, they have.

I learned from my mother how to honor a vow. My parents were married in 1940 and stayed that way until my father’s death in February of 1999. Theirs was not a happy marriage- at least not during the 18 years that I was at home. My father, God rest his soul, was a chain-smoking alcoholic who never missed either a day of work or a chance to belittle his younger children. I understand from my older siblings that he was different when they were young. I will never know. My mother, though, stayed. She did not allow us to show disrespect for our father in his house. She cooked for him, she cleaned for him, and she did everything that a “good wife” was supposed to do for him. She honored the commitment that she had made, as a young and hopeful bride, to her husband and to God.

The most important thing that I learned from my mother is how to be a grandmother. My daughter would not hesitate to tell you that my mother is her favorite grandmother. This is due, in huge part, to the fact that my mother loves my children unconditionally, totally, and without end. The same mother who strove to put me into the proper mold allowed my child’s imagination to run rampant. The same mother who never kissed me cuddled my children even after they were “too old”. The same mother who would not allow me to wear makeup until I was 16 bought my daughters eye makeup when they were 12 and, yes, I took it back. The same mother who made me feel less than adequate has nurtured in my children the absolute knowledge that they are the most important things in her world.

I learned from my mother how to have the courage of one’s convictions. Regardless of why she disowned me, she has done a banner job of it. I learned from my mother to never, ever, do this to one of my children.

Remembering

2011-05-07T10:19:00.003-05:00

Many of you know that my first husband, Steve, died in a car accident when we had been married for a year and a half. Steve was 24 and I had just turned 20. We had a four month old baby. To say that I was devastated would be an understatement.

A few days ago, a gentleman in our parish died in a traffic "mishap". That is how our local radio station reported it. The word "mishap" always amuses me. I am not sure why as it is absolutely correct.

This gentleman was 53 years old. He and his wife celebrated their 25th anniversary last June. They have two children, both college age. I cannot even imagine his wife's grief.

When I was 20, I thought that I knew everything there was to know about love. Then I thought I knew everything there was to know about loss. It's amazing how young 20 is, in retrospect. I am not saying that I didn't love Steve. I am just saying that we did not have time for that love to simmer and stew and temper and actually become.

When you have lived with someone for 25 years and raised children together, your love becomes something in and of itself. It becomes that "something" that smooths over the rough spots and illuminates the joyous moments. It becomes what it was meant to be all along, God with you.

The hard thing to do, when the marriage is broken apart, is to remember that God is still with you.

Fun Monday - Wanna Make God Laugh?

2011-05-03T03:11:00.002-05:00

Tell Him your plans! Roger is hosting Fun Monday again for the month of May and this week he would like to know our va- or stay- cation plans.

Plans, you say?

This is the first year in forever that I am getting a paid vacation. Last year my husband fulfilled a lifelong dream and went to Sturgis for the bike rally. This year, I had planned to spend a week on Assateague Island with my daughter. We have both wanted to see the ponies since our respective childhoods and the Marguerite Henry books.

Then, two things happened. One bad - the price of gas and one good - the birth of a new baby in the family! My daughter's step-daughter is having a baby sometime with the next month and so, in June, when Juls and I both have our vacations approved, we will be going to San Antonio, TX instead of the East Coast. I hope to get a couple of days in Corpus Christi, also as I am seriously suffering from water deprivation.

No, I am not thirsty, but my soul is. I grew up on the California Coast. I miss trees and water. Every once in a while I just need to be near LARGE expanses of water or at least a running river.

So, there it is. Still going - just not as far.

Defending the homestead

2011-05-02T03:24:00.003-05:00

We have a new food delivery person. My dogs do not like anyone in their yard but they tolerated the old food delivery person in the "big yard" adjacent to our house. The new guy? Not so much. I happened to be home alone the other day when the new food delivery person, from whom I had not ordered, parked in the big yard. The dogs, all four of them, were in our yard.

Well, almost all of them. Bonnie, when she saw the delivery truck, wriggled through the space between the gate and the fence and commenced defending the homestead.

Holly, who normally stands at the gate and barks, stood on her back feet at the gate and barked, hackles raised.

Goose, who is still a little skittish and afraid, was barking and circling and charging and retreating and charging and circling and retreating, all the while barking.

Duck, who normally stands next to Holly, to protect the yard, was on the porch. I was in the doorway behind the glass storm door. She was on the porch, I assume in case the intruder actually got past the first three defenders. She was not barking. She was staring gateward, hackles raised, and growling deep in her throat.

The driver, after actually approaching the gate, looked into Holly's mouth and thought better of it. He called me on the phone to see if I needed anything. I told him that if I had, I would have ordered it.

We will not be having our food delivered by this company again. At least, not until they have a new route driver.

Dining Alone

2011-04-28T18:40:00.002-05:00

I have been contemplating life alone. Being alone does not frighten me. I am not an easily frightened person. Being alone with 2 dogs is a piece of cake. I can earn money. I can pay the bills. I can maintain my house - or hire the necessary people to do it.

The one thing that I cannot do?

I cannot eat in a restaurant alone.

This is a holdover from my childhood. My childhood had rules, especially for "ladies".

A lady's name was in the newspaper 3 times in her life: when she was born, when she was married, and upon her death.

A lady did not sweat. Horses sweat, men perspired, and ladies "glowed".

A lady did not leave the house without appropriate clothing - and this included foundation garments.

A lady did not open a door if she was accompanied by a gentleman, regardless of his age.

A lady did not light her own cigarette if she was accompanied by a gentleman and he was of age.

A lady did not smoke while walking, only when she was seated.

A lady did not eat alone in a restaurant.

I have broken a lot of these rules. Number one went by the wayside upon my second marriage. I live in the panhandle of Texas. Unless "glow" can run down your face, neck, and plaster your clothes to your body, I have sweated. I no longer wear appropriate foundation garments, in part because they no longer make them. I do not, however, wear my pajamas to the Walmart. This is a matter of pride. I do not open my own door when I am accompanied by a gentleman, and this includes my grandson. Some days, it also includes my daughter, as both of us stand in front of a door. She generally gives in first as a matter of respect for her elders. I no longer smoke but when I did, I never smoked while walking and never lit my own cigarettes.

I do not eat in restaurants alone. Even when my husband and I were driving truck for a living, I did not eat in restaurants alone. If we were at a truckstop and I was hungry and he was sleeping, either I got food from the deli section of the truckstop or ordered food to go from the restaurant and took it back to the truck. This holds true for road trips that I have made. Several times when I helped deliver my grandson to his dad for vacations, we ate in restaurants on the leg of the trip that Moose was with me. On the opposite leg of the trip, I either ate from the deli sections, ate chips, or went through a drive-thru (not possible in a semi).

I know that I can invite friends to eat with me if I want to go out but sometimes I just like to be alone and not have to talk.

What do you think? How do you handle this, if you do?

A Boy and His (no, wait, my) Dog

2011-04-23T02:53:00.003-05:00

We have four dogs. We had 3 dogs and a pup but my grandson, while visiting last week, noted that the pup was no longer a pup. She is a dog.

This short post is about my bestest and favoritest and oldest dog, the Duck. Duck is 12. My grandson is 11. He is visiting this weekend, at least until Sunday morning when we must return him.

Duck is getting old. In the morning, when the other dogs run out before breakfast, she waits. She has breakfast and then goes out. While the other dogs are running in and out all day long, she lolls. She watches TV, she hangs out with my husband, she lies next to my bed while I sleep. She goes out after dinner and then again just before bedtime. She is just getting old.

The Moose knows this. He is very aware that she is not the same dog she used to be - the dog who would run and fetch until she wore out the child; the dog who loved water so much that she would swim in a flooded loading dock; the dog who was always thisclose to the boy whenever he was available.

We went out to brunch this morning and then ran errands for long enough that it was too hot for yard work when we got home. Moose came in and put his stuff up and asked if he could play outside. I said he could and he headed for the door. As I was telling him not to be hurt if Duck didn't go, she ran, yes, RAN, to the door and waited for him to let her out. No way is she abdicating the wearing out of the child.

God, I love watching the two of them together.

On Becoming Holy(er)

2011-03-27T03:50:00.002-05:00

I was researching a paper on "holiness" today and came across this quote from one of my favorite authors, C.S.Lewis.

“On the one hand we must never imagine that our own unaided efforts can be relied on to carry us even through the next twenty-four hours as ‘decent’ people. If He does not support us, not one of us is safe from some gross sin. On the other hand, no possible degree of holiness or heroism which has ever been recorded on the greatest saints is beyond what He is determined to produce in every one of us in the end. The job will not be completed in this life: but He means to get us as far as possible before death.

That is why we must not be surprised if we are in for a rough time. When a man turns to Christ and seems to be getting on pretty well (in the sense that some of his bad habits are now corrected), he often feels that it would now be natural if things went fairly smoothly. When troubles come along – illnesses, money troubles, new kinds of temptation – he is disappointed. These things, he feels, might have been necessary to rouse him and make him repent in his bad old days, but why now? Because God is forcing him on, or up, to a higher level: putting him in situations where he will have to be very much braver, or more patient, or more loving, than he ever dreamed of being before. It seems to us all unnecessary: but that is because we have not yet the slightest notion of the tremendous thing He means to make of us.

I find I must borrow yet another parable from George MacDonald. Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on: you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”

C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

St. Cuthbert

2011-03-21T06:20:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, at Mass, the men's choir was singing. They were singing very well but Shorty and I both made mention of the fact that we missed Duffy. Actually, we DO miss Duffy but at the time we were missing Duffy's lovely baritone.

We got home and I checked my facebook page, which has the saint of the day from the Catholic Church. Yesterday's saint? Why, Saint Cuthbert, of course, the saint's name that Duffy had chosen for his confirmation name 6 years ago this Easter.

Rest well, my friend, and know that you are still loved...and missed.

Pretty Ponies

2011-03-19T10:34:00.003-05:00

Wednesday evening, my family (Shorty, Julie, CJ, Rusty, and I) went to see the World Famous Lipizzaner Stallions while they were in Amarillo. I took a LOT of pictures, some good, some not so good and a few that just make me smile. This is my favorite.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

2011-03-17T22:42:00.001-05:00

In honor of my Irish daughter!

Fun Monday - 5 of each

2011-03-07T03:31:00.004-06:00

We headed down south for today's assignment. The lovely Georgia peaches would like to know this: List 5 things you are willing to spend your hard-earned cash on and 5 things you would rather steal (hypothetically of course) than waste your money on. (we already know doctors, insurance, and taxes are down right painful.)

The 5 things that I would, and do, willingly spend money are:

1. high thread count sheets

2. furniture

3. mayonnaise

4. education

5. shortbread cookies

My oldest sister bought my first set of good sheets when I was in high school. The longer I owned them and the more they were washed, the softer they got. It wasn't until I was in my forties that I started buying good sheets for myself. My husband was very happy.

My dad was a carpenter and I grew up with a love of wood (and a fear of the wrath that ensued from hammering a nail into the wall). I learned that wood lasts and that good furniture will serve not only you, but your kids. I am still using the bedroom furniture I bought back in the 70s. I am tired of looking at it but it is still in good shape.

My mom used Best Foods mayonnaise. We only bought Best Foods and if it was over .39 cents a jar, we did without. She was right.

My parents sent me to Catholic schools, for which I mentally thank them often. There is no price too large to pay for the love of learning that the nuns instilled in me. My daughter is continuing this tradition with her little man.

The last is just pure butter-laden selfishness. Walker shortbread cookies are a gift from the Scottish gods. I liked Lorna Doones when I was a child. I liked, and still like, Girl Scout Cookies shortbread cookies. I love Walker shortbread cookies. I cannot explain it. You just have to try them yourself.

Five things that I consider a total and absolute waste of money are:

1. expensive shampoos, etc.

2. tabloid papers

3. too many charities

4. lotteries

5. organic foods

When I was growing up, I used to use Joy dishwashing liquid on my hair. It always amused me when my mom's hairdressers would comment over and over again about what great shape my hair was in. I still believe that soap is pretty much just soap.

There is really no explanation needed for #2. I suppose you could count them as entertainment but I really think that mean-spirited entertainment is not.

I have a real problem with those charities who are so administration-heavy that very little of the donations go where they are supposed to go. I also have a problem with all of the high dollar advertising that is done supposedly for charity. I have charities that I have researched and believe in and donate cheerfully to. I just consider the rest a waste.

I play the lottery. I pretend to convince myself that for the price of $1.00, I get to be rich until I check the numbers and find out that I am, once again, a loser.

I just don't believe, or buy, the hype surrounding organic anything. I am a firm hater of bugs and a believer in better living through chemicals. Please do not inundate me with facts trying to change my mind. I will just have to publish my own facts repudiating yours.

Now, go check out the Georgia gals at In Good Company and have a spectacular week.

Life in the Real World

2011-03-03T14:22:00.002-06:00

I recently took a 3 week class which included numerous classroom tests. One of these tests required an 80% score in able to be afforded the chance to take the final state-certified test. The state test required a 70% score.

There were 11 of us in the class ranging in age from 57 years old to 20 years of age. 10 of us took the test last Friday. 9 of us passed. The student who failed retook the test on Monday and passed. The rest of this post is about the 11th student.

This was, by far, the most difficult test that I have taken in years. The following post is my observation and, since this is my blog, my opinion.

When I was a child, ADD, ADHD, and dyslexia were not yet recognized as learning disabilities. I will say right now that I am blessed. I have never had any difficulty learning or testing or reading. I do know people that have. I am fairly sure that my brother probably had dyslexia. I am fairly sure that my daughter probably has dyslexia and maybe one or more of the alphabet syndromes. I am fairly sure that quite a few of the kids who were discipline problems in my class had dyslexia and/or one of the alphabet syndromes.

We were expected to learn. We were expected, to put it bluntly, to sit down, shut up and let the teacher talk. With differing degrees of difficulty, we did.

Today's schools, in the interest of inclusion, accommodation, and non-discrimination make unbelievable allowances for these kids. There was, in my class, a student who had been "helped" for the 12 years that she was in school. For 12 years, the schools had tested her separately, read her tests to her and allowed her to answer orally, changed colors and fonts and settings on computers to make it easier for her.

The job for which she was taking the class exists in the real world. The State does not allow the test to be given orally. The school actually did arrange for her to take the test separately and to change the settings on the computer. She took the test on Monday with the 10th student. He passed. She failed and blamed it partially on the fact that he was in the room with her.

She takes the test again this afternoon and I hope, for her sake, that she passes. For the sake of those whose safety will depend on her ability to do the job in a noise-filled environment, I am not so sure.

Fun Monday - Small Memories

2011-02-28T04:49:00.004-06:00

Molly dropped by yesterday to remind me that I have been remiss regarding Fun Monday. On this, the last Monday of the month, she would like to hear about a childhood memory.

I do not have a grand memory of my childhood. We didn't go to Disneyland or anywhere spectacular (to a kid). I do have a lot of small memories, the small things that life is made of.

I remember the smell of Vick's whenever one of us got sick. Mom would rub it on our chests and up our necks and then put us in one of Dad's white pima cotton T-shirts.

I remember when Mom would bake pies and there were scraps of dough left, she would roll them out, put a little butter on it, sprinkle it with sugar and cinnamon and bake it just for us kids.

I remember the button box in Mom's sewing chest and how, when we were bored, we would play with the buttons, or steal an empty thread spool, tap 4 small nails in the top, and use it to weave a yarn tube. They made great Barbie mufflers!

I remember the sound the rain made on the fiberglass carport next to my bedroom and how cold the linoleum floor seemed in the wintertime.

I remember picking the honeysuckles from across the street and sucking the "honey" out right up until I saw the neighbor's dog doing what dogs do on bushes.

I remember cutting holly from our very own holly trees for holiday decorations and sharing with the neighbors.

I remember my brother and I running through the house and turning on all the electric appliances so my Dad would look at the PG&E meter and lose his mind, and then running even faster to turn everything off before he came inside.

I remember my childhood very fondly. The parts that I was not fond of, I choose not to remember!

Now, hop on over to Molly's and see what everyone else is remembering.

Just Thinking

2011-02-07T20:56:00.002-06:00

I was in the bathtub this morning listening to Shorty exhorting the black pup, "Eat your breakfast, Goose". I giggled because we used to spend our mornings telling Julie's child, "Eat your breakfast, Moose". Some days I am easily amused.

Anyway, this got me to thinking about the differences in our dogs. Duck and Holly are both food-driven. Rattle a bag or walk toward the pantry or even think too loudly about food and they are right there!

Goose could care less about food. She is affection-driven and just loves to be loved. I will be glad when she figures out that she is more lovable when she is not eating my work shoes or my Uggs.

This leaves Bonnie. I was trying to decide what drives Bonnie and all I can figure out is that she marches to the beat of her own little tiny chihuahua mariachi band.

Fun Monday - Dream Big!

2011-02-07T01:04:00.003-06:00

Our hostess for the entire month of February is Molly at one of my very favoritest-named blogs, Return of the White Robin. This is her assignment for this Monday..."imagine that you are the recipient of a large sum of money, say 10 million dollars (to account for inflation). Tell us what you would do with the gift and how would your lifestyle change."

This is easy for me because I dream this dream every time I buy a lottery ticket. When I win, or when someone gives me $10 million, I will do the following things:

1. Pay off all my bills

2. Give all of my children a lump sum to do with as they wish, with the understanding that there will be no more.

3. Buy a house in the Hill Country of Texas, probably in Fredericksburg, where you can still shop at Dooley's, an honest-to-goodness old-fashioned variety store.

4. Endow a scholarship fund at St. Anthony's where my grandson started his school life and where they love him still.

5. Use the remainder to start a fund for the permanent endowment of our local lending library. I cannot think of a better gift to give the world...and myself.

To honor - and to share

2011-02-04T20:44:00.007-06:00

Friday night after dinner at Rudy's, Moose went with me and Shorty to Barnes and Noble where we met up with his mom and Rusty. On the way, he was telling me about how one of his classmates "offended" him. Evidently, that afternoon Father John told the kids that he had to officiate at a military funeral at 2:00 One of the other boys immediately asked who was going to take care of them. This offended our little patriot who thought that the dead hero and his family should have been thought of first and foremost.

This lead to a discussion of "frame of reference" and how everything you have been and done and heard and read affects what you think and how you look at things. We decided that obviously his frame of reference was decidedly military as well as service oriented. We discussed service to your country and service to others and how it was all a form of sharing. Moose told us how Father John had explained some things about military funerals including the fact that the flag was not buried with the fallen hero, but given to his/her loved ones.

My first husband, although he died as a result of a vehicle accident, had served in the Army. After the funeral, I was given the flag that had draped his coffin. My family, while patriotic, was not especially military and, to be honest, I really did not know what to do with the flag. I did not want to just shove it in a closet or in an attic and I did not have an appropriate place to hang it.

This bothered me for years.

Then my oldest daughter, the child of my dead husband, started kindergarten. It was a good school and she loved it. Come the fall, the kids learned about Veteran's Day and who veterans are and how they served. She learned that her daddy had been a veteran.

The flag that had covered her father's casket was donated to her school in his memory. It flew over her and her classmates for the rest of that year. I think it was a good use for the flag and a good way to honor her dad's service. So did Moose.

Words Count

2011-02-03T10:37:00.002-06:00

Words count -

and so does correct usage.

The video'd assault on 13 year old Nadin Khoury from Upper Darby, PA, to which I will not link, has gotten a tremendous amount of press coverage.

Every SINGLE report that I have seen refers to the bullying. Definition courtesy of Merriam-Webster online.

Bully

Definition:

Transitive verb

1. To treat abusively

2. To affect by means of force or coercion

Intransitive verb

1. To use browbeating language or behavior

Bully: synonyms

Brutalize, abuse, ill-treat, ill-use, kick around, maltreat, manhandle, mess around (slang), mishandle, mistreat, misuse

This child was not just bullied. He was assaulted.

Assault

Definition:

1. A: a violent physical or verbal attack

B: a military attack usually involving direct contact with enemy forces

C: a concerted effort (as to reach a goal or defeat an adversary)

2. A: a threat or attempt to inflect offensive physical contact or bodily harm on a person (as by lifting a fist in a threatening manner) that puts the person in immediate danger of or in apprehension of such harm or contact

B: rape

Assault is a crime. It is punishable by law. It is not dependant upon the schools to take care of assaults. It is incumbent upon the state to both protect the innocent and prosecute the criminal. Once we call a spade a spade and quit being so politically correct, I believe that, one crime at a time, we can take back our liberties, both civil and personal.

Fun Monday - Novel Idea

2011-01-31T00:30:00.002-06:00

Ari has one more topic for us before she retires from Fun Monday hosting duties...
Topic for Jan. 31: Your first novel is published to wide acclaim. What's the title of your novel and what is it about?

I hesitate to participate this week. Not because I don't have an idea for a book but because the premise of this book goes against my religion. I also think a few people may have no idea that I have such a dark and vengeful side.

A little background -in the 1960s, my uncle was killed in a robbery at the bar where he was working. After much diligence and hard work, (a lake was drained to find the murder weapon), two persons were arrested, tried by a jury(ies) of their peers, convicted and sentenced to death.

In 1972, the California Supreme Court ruled the death penalty unconstititutional. 107 death row inmates were taken off death row and re-sentenced. Not all of them were sentenced to life without parole and some, after serving time, were paroled.

In 1977, the California State legislature re-enacted the death penalty with new sentencing guidelines. Those persons who had been re-sentenced could not, under the cover of double jeopardy, be put back on death row.

There are currently 674 inmates on California's death row. Since 1978, 11 inmates have been executed. 12 inmates have committed suicide. 30 have died of natural causes, including old age.

My Church does not believe in capital punishment. I do. They deem it murder. I do not. I pray about this.

Now - my book, which is titled, with thanks to one of my deputies, "Just Desserts".

My protagonist is a middle aged woman. Let's call her Lucretia. She is an average person; high school graduate, a little college, widowed, grown children, never in trouble with the law. She finds out that she is terminally ill.

Needing both a paycheck and benefits, she lies about her recent diagnosis and goes to work for the State. She gets hired as a cook for the prison system. Making no effort to hide her work, she poisons every inmate on death row.

She is arrested, tried by a jury of her peers, convicted, and sentenced to death row. Her diagnosis turns out to have been a false positive and she dies, on death row, of old age, with all of her medical care having been paid for by the State.

No, go on over to Ari's and read some more uplifting, humorous, and inspirational posts!

Fun Monday - Smiley Sounds

2011-01-18T05:01:00.003-06:00

Ari at A Prawn of Fate continues her hosting duties for January's Fun Monday (need a February volunteer!) with this question:

What is the most beautiful sound in the whole world? Once you've told us that, give us the flip side, too: What is the sound you dislike the most?

I did not put my children on YouTube when they were cute and cooing so I had to borrow someone else's baby. This is my favorite sound in the world - a baby just discovering it's voice and dropping all those pear-shaped sounds into the day.

Enjoy! and hop on over to Ari's for the rest of the participants.

An Explanation

2011-01-18T04:49:00.003-06:00

My daughter asked me today where my Fun Monday post was for this week. The topic was 'songs that make you get out of your chair and dance'. I don't dance but I do get out of my chair - for the Star Spangled Banner.

Intending to participate, I started looking on YouTube for a clip to embed. I went through 17 clips before I finally found one that did not, at some point, make me want to scream at the person singing. I refuse to call some of these folks artists. I finally found a clip that sounded the way I think our National Anthem should sound.

It was sung by the combined choirs of our National Forces - Army, Navy, Marine, Air Force, and Coast Guard. It was beautiful. As it was being sung, the camera panned over the crowd, all those folks standing with their hats off and their hands over their hearts or lifted in salute. The camera then panned over the sports personages waiting to play. Not one of them showed any sign of respect for the moment.

I tried again. 6 clips later, I admitted defeat. I was unable to find a single clip that did not make me want to throttle someone. So, instead of posting on Fun Monday, I spent my time writing letters to teams.

Rest in Peace

2011-01-15T01:52:00.003-06:00

A gentleman in our town died this week. I was trying, unsuccessfully, to come up with some words of comfort for his wife and children, who are grown.

I passed the store that one of the children owns, along with his wife. The sign out front, which is usually adorned with some philosophical comment or notice of an upcoming event, bore these words:

"He is not dead. He is alive in Christ."

This family was not in need of words from me.

Rest in peace, Ralph.

Thankful Thursday 1/13/2011

2011-01-13T11:23:00.002-06:00

On Wednesday evenings, I teach a 5th grade religion class. When I was a child, this class was called "Catechism". When my daughter was a child, this class was called "CCD". It is now called "FF" for "Faith First".

I have been teaching this class for a few years now. Most Wednesdays, I start anticipating the 7:00 class sometime in the afternoon. I used the word anticipating because the word dreading has such negative connotations. Most Wednesdays, I come home from class knowing that I learned - or relearned - so much more than the kids did.

Last night is a perfect example. We are learning about the liturgical calendar, the calendar by which the Church orders its' year. We are currently in "Ordinary Time", that time between Christmas and Lent and also between Easter and Advent. It is the time when we learn the most about Jesus' ordinary life - not the huge milestones of His birth or of His death and resurrection - but His life among us.

Towards the end of class, we just sort of devolve into a discussion time, when the kids ask questions about whatever is on their minds. What is on their minds is very rarely what I have just spent 40 minutes talking about. Last night, they wanted to talk about the recent events in Arizona, when Representative Giffords was shot and Christina Green, among others, died. We were discussing praying, for the repose of the souls of those who died, for the healing of those who were hurt, for the skill of their doctors, for the first responders who, as one child pointed out, will have those pictures and memories in their minds forever. I mentioned that we also needed to pray for the young man who committed this horrendous act and especially for his family.

It is easy to pray for the victims. It is much harder to pray for the perpetrators.

It is easy to remember the families of the heroes and to think of their pain. It is much harder to think of the family of the gunman and of their pain.

I am thankful, on this Thursday, that I cannot imagine the pain of the shooter's mother. I am thankful for children who remind me to look further, to look deeper, to pray harder. I am thankful that I live in a country where, amidst all of the chaos and confusion, it is still our first instinct to protect, to shelter, to find the good that is always present.

Luxury? Necessity?

2011-01-11T13:35:00.003-06:00

I was reading a blog by my brother about how things of necessity have become projects of leisure. I started wondering if there is, in fact, anything in the world that was created strictly for pleasure and did not have it's roots in necessity. I couldn't think of anything so I threw it out to my facebook friends for their input.

Thank goodness my friends are better educated or better thinkers than I am.

From my friend, Francie - the phonograph. I cannot imagine life without music and to think that all of our wonderful portable music players began with the phonograph, in itself an offshoot of the telephone and telegraph. Thank you, Mr. Eidson.

From my friend, Pamela - the cigarette rolling machine. This was certainly a luxury and a timesaver for those folks tired of rolling their own.

From my friend, Denise - chocolate. I love chocolate. I did a little, very little, research and, while chocolate was used in religious and social rituals, it was not really a necessity. Thus, it does qualify as a luxury even though I tend to think of it as a necessity.

So, thanks for the input, friends and I look forward to reading more luxuries in the comment section.

Fun Monday - Finishing School

2011-01-10T01:39:00.003-06:00

Our hostess for this week is Ari.

Topic for 1/10/11: From the mundane to the emotional, from paneling the basement walls to patching it up with the brother in Virginia you haven't spoken to since you voted for Carter and he didn't, unfinished business is something left undone or incomplete. It even can haunt you. What's your unfinished business?

Where to start? There are unfinished craft projects, unfinished scrapbooks, unfinished needlework projects, unfinished home improvement projects, family relationships that I would like to think are not finished, and the list goes on.

What would I really like to finish? What do I stand an actual chance of finishing? Ah yes, college.

I did not finish college. I got married, had a baby, my husband died and I have worked ever since. I have taken courses related to my job(s) and I have done well. I just have never gone to college.

At this stage in my life, I do not necessarily want or need a degree. I just want to learn! I love school, I love books, I love learning. Now that this is in writing, maybe it's time to get off my keister and actually register for a class or two.

South is a matter of degree

2011-01-08T03:26:00.001-06:00

I am sure when these geese found the aquatic center, they thought they were far enough south. After all, they're in Texas, right?

Next week, when our predicited highs are in the single digits, I wonder where they'll be.

Thankful Thursday 1/6/2011

2011-01-06T13:17:00.002-06:00

I was reminded that this is the first Thursday of the new year and my first chance to participate in Thankful Thursday, started by my friend Julie from Another Chance Ranch.

Having just climbed out of a lovely, long, hot! bath, I am thankful today for my new hot water heater and for my oh-so-handy husband who installed it.

Thanks, hon! and Happy Birthday next week 'cause I'm pretty sure the hot water heater is your gift! Love you.

Fun Monday - Winter Wonderland

2011-01-03T02:01:00.003-06:00

Our hostess this week is Ari and this is what she wrote:

Theme for Jan. 3: I live in a climate with a long, cold winters. Over the years, I've built up a supply of clothing and items to keep warm and dry. I think of them as my arsenal for winter combat. What's in your winter weather arsenal? Or, if you don't have tough winters where you live, tell us about something you own that you wouldn't want to be without.

When my husband moved us to Texas 20 years ago, the only thing I knew about Texas was that it was hot. Right? Well, sort of. The part of Texas where I live, the Panhandle, has snow and wind and ice storms and wind and thunder snow and wind and freezing fog and heat. We are very blessed.

I have coats and mufflers and snow boots and de-icer and all of that stuff. My very favorite? Right this week, when the temperature as I left work yesterday was -1 degree?

The remote start on my pickup truck. Thank you, Chevrolet, and whoever specced my truck. I really think it is nicer than the heated seats, although those are my grandson's favorite.

I know there are more essential things but all I do is work and sleep. I get off work, drive home, go to bed, sleep, get up, get dressed, drive to work and walk inside. I am probably exposed to the elements for a total of 10 minutes.

I am also thankful for fenced yards and dogs that do not need to be walked.

Now, hop on over to Ari's and see who else is playing.

Happy New Year's!

2011-01-01T20:59:00.003-06:00

This recipe is my New Year's gift to you. I first made this a couple of years ago after finding the recipe on The Homesick Texan's blog. I made it again yesterday for today and oh, my gosh, it is good. Due to exigent circumstances (laziness), I used the beef stock I had on hand and left out the bacon grease. It still rocked.

A bonus is that whenever a recipe calls for bacon grease, I think of my mom's molasses cookies. She used a little bacon grease in place of some of the shortening and it gave them a wonderful flavor.

New Year’s Day Good Fortune Soup (adapted from Gourmet)
Ingredients:
1/2 pound of collard greens, stems removed and chopped
1/2 pound of cooked ham, diced
2 15 oz. cans of black-eyed peas (can use fresh or frozen as well)
1 small onion, diced
6 cloves of garlic, minced
1 large carrot, diced
5 chipotle chiles chopped
1 can of Ro-Tel tomatoes
1 teaspoon of thyme
4 cups of chicken broth
2 teaspoons of apple cider vinegar
A pinch of sugar
2 tablespoons of bacon grease (can use olive oil or vegetable oil if you prefer)
Salt and pepper to taste

Method:
1. In a large pot, cook the onion and carrots in the bacon grease on medium-high heat for 10 minutes or until onions start to turn golden. Add the garlic and cook for three more minutes.
2. Add to the pot the collard greens, vinegar, sugar, ham, chicken stock, chipotles, Ro-Tel tomatoes and thyme, and bring pot to a boil and then simmer for half an hour, stirring occasionally.
3. Take one can of black-eyed peas, and roughly mash with a fork. Add these and the other can of black-eyed peas to the pot.
4. Continue to simmer soup for another 45 minutes.
Serves 6-8
Note: If you don’t want to use pork, that’s fine, but don’t replace the pork with chicken if you’re going to eat this on New Year’s Day. Why? Well, they say eating chickens is a no-no since the birds scratch backwards. I know, I know, I’m not really superstitious, but might as well not take any chances!

Shorty says that this is the only black-eyed pea recipe that I have ever made that didn't taste like dirt. Happy New Year's everyone and may God continue to bless us everyone.

Mad Math Skills

2010-12-31T19:14:00.000-06:00

Moose is, as previously stated, very bright. His verbal skills are exceptional. His math skills? Not so much. I may have discovered why.

Juls and I have been doing WeightWatchers for a few months now. WW used points to keep track of how much food you are eating. For years, the points were arrived at by counting calories, fiber, and fat. Recently, they changed the system. Now, you count fat, fiber, carbs and protein.

I did not have much difficulty switching over and continued to lose weight, at least until I jumped off the wagon this past week and landed, face first, mouth open, into every bakery I passed. Juls had a little more difficulty. She hated the new system and could not make it work for her.

While road-tripping this past week, I discovered why. We stopped to get gas and, needless to say, picked up the breakfast of champions - chips and caffeine. She popped open the app on her IPhone, plugged in her points, and started complaining that a serving, one of four in the bag, was 43 points! This is more than her daily allowance!

I asked her to do it again, because that could not be right. She did so and came up with the same answer. I asked her to do it out loud and she did. 160 calories, etc. Did you know that if you plug 160 into the category that is looking for grams of fat, your answer will be wrong?

Why yes, yes it will. Juls had been entering calories instead of fat grams since the program changed. I am sure she will have better results now that she doesn't look at the points and say, "the heck with it, there's no way, I'll just eat whatever the heck I want, this doesn't work!"

Mad math skills, Juls!

...and yes, I had her permission to tell this story.

Mad Math Skills, continued

2010-12-30T21:39:00.001-06:00

I was reminded of this stunning example of modern-day math by a comment Juls made on my previous post. Do you need more proof of her math skills? OK.

Juls bought 48 tiny liquor filled chocolate candies as stocking stuffers. She got them home, looked at the stockings hung on the wall with care and counted 7. She was trying to divide 7 into 48 when she realized that the dogs do not get chocolate. Chocolate is not good for dogs.

Down to five stockings, she realized that she needed to get rid of 3 of the candies, so she ate them. Then she realized that Moose does not get alcohol. Alcohol is not good for mooses.

Now, with 45 candies left, she knew that she had to divide the total by 4. Quickly doing the math in her head, she arrived at 10 each for a total of 40. She proceeded to eat the 5 extra candies.

5? Isn't that more than 4? Oh, well. 8 candies eaten and we all got 10 each. A lovely treat for all of us and an exceptional treat for one! Merry Christmas, Juls!