It's been several years since I was actually awake at midnight on December 31st. And this year won't be any different. Call it maturity, call it being a wuss, call it getting old. At any rate, I have no plans to "ring in the new year". 2008 will roll over to 2009 without any fanfare at my house.
Resolutions? I can make a list but make no bones about keeping any of them for more than a couple of days into the new year. There are things I need to do. Like lose 20 or 30 pounds. I also need to clean out closets and donate unused items to local charities. I need to work on my disposition but I'm afraid middle age rules over a change in my disposition.
And have you noticed all the commercials and advertisements promoting weight-loss programs during this time of year?? I find it an oxymoron to watch Paula Deen mix a stick of butter with bacon grease for one her delicious recipes and then BAM -- Marie Osmond is talking about how she became a new woman on the Nutri-System program. Go figure.
So here's to my friends, family and loved ones -- drink one for me if you're up at midnight. And good luck with those resolutions.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Mystery Solved
Remember the gun shot I heard a couple of weeks ago at 1:10am?? Come to find out, Kathy and I aren't crazy after all.
Lee (my supervisor) had lunch with our city judge and justice of the peace yesterday. Conversation steered towards the local goings-on in the Little Town. Lee told his lunch partners about the gun shot I heard a couple of weeks ago. The city judge said that my back door neighbor (who happens to be a city law officer) heard the gun shot also but didn't see anything out of the ordinary either at the time.
And remember that I searched my back yard at sunrise for any signs of blood in case a deer had been shot? And I glanced over at my back door neighbor's yard but the grass was so tall that I couldn't see anything? Come to find out, my next door neighbor discovered a 10-point whitetail buck dead in my back yard neighbor's yard the next day. He just happened to see an antler sticking up through the grass. It appears that the buck was killed with a .22 caliber gun.
Dortha has a feeder and deer blocks in the pecan orchard and I'm sure this is the same buck I've seen grazing over there in the evenings. Guess I'll break the news to her sometime today. And damn it, Sam was right about somebody shooting a deer in the back yard.
Lee (my supervisor) had lunch with our city judge and justice of the peace yesterday. Conversation steered towards the local goings-on in the Little Town. Lee told his lunch partners about the gun shot I heard a couple of weeks ago. The city judge said that my back door neighbor (who happens to be a city law officer) heard the gun shot also but didn't see anything out of the ordinary either at the time.
And remember that I searched my back yard at sunrise for any signs of blood in case a deer had been shot? And I glanced over at my back door neighbor's yard but the grass was so tall that I couldn't see anything? Come to find out, my next door neighbor discovered a 10-point whitetail buck dead in my back yard neighbor's yard the next day. He just happened to see an antler sticking up through the grass. It appears that the buck was killed with a .22 caliber gun.
Dortha has a feeder and deer blocks in the pecan orchard and I'm sure this is the same buck I've seen grazing over there in the evenings. Guess I'll break the news to her sometime today. And damn it, Sam was right about somebody shooting a deer in the back yard.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Changes
Another face lift is taking place in the Little Town. The insurance company building across the street from where I am employed is undergoing exterior construction. It was once a service station and was converted to house a real estate/insurance company several years ago. I reckon the face lift will erase all signs of the building ever having been a gas station.
Most lifelong Little Town citizens are adverse to change in the Little Town. However, more and more city folks are discovering our little community and think it is the ideal place to retire. Families are moving in because of the small town values our Little Town has to offer as well as the school system. The crime rate is almost nonexistant. Jobs are hard to come by in the Little Town and a lot of people have to commute to the larger towns to bring home the bacon. I guess my biggest bitch about city folks buying property in our county is that it is driving my property taxes up and up and up. Gas is more expensive here than it should be as are groceries. But I guess it is the price we pay for being so far from any metro area.
The nearest WalMart is 50 miles away. Most folks from the Little Town will travel between 50 and 110 miles to see specialists for their check-ups and ailments. We do have a Sonic and a Church's Chicken Place. Also have a McDonald's. Interstate traffic supports those businesses. The locals stick to the tried-and-true Dairy Queen. The only movie theater in town was closed several years ago for remodeling and never re-opened. It is a given that teenagers will go to neighboring towns for entertainment. Been there, done that.
As more new folks move to our county, change will be inevitable and we will adjust accordingly. The Little Town has potential to evolve into a thriving community. But until the Little Town can support its own WalMart, the Dollar General will do just fine.
Most lifelong Little Town citizens are adverse to change in the Little Town. However, more and more city folks are discovering our little community and think it is the ideal place to retire. Families are moving in because of the small town values our Little Town has to offer as well as the school system. The crime rate is almost nonexistant. Jobs are hard to come by in the Little Town and a lot of people have to commute to the larger towns to bring home the bacon. I guess my biggest bitch about city folks buying property in our county is that it is driving my property taxes up and up and up. Gas is more expensive here than it should be as are groceries. But I guess it is the price we pay for being so far from any metro area.
The nearest WalMart is 50 miles away. Most folks from the Little Town will travel between 50 and 110 miles to see specialists for their check-ups and ailments. We do have a Sonic and a Church's Chicken Place. Also have a McDonald's. Interstate traffic supports those businesses. The locals stick to the tried-and-true Dairy Queen. The only movie theater in town was closed several years ago for remodeling and never re-opened. It is a given that teenagers will go to neighboring towns for entertainment. Been there, done that.
As more new folks move to our county, change will be inevitable and we will adjust accordingly. The Little Town has potential to evolve into a thriving community. But until the Little Town can support its own WalMart, the Dollar General will do just fine.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Christmas - Round Four
After I watched Kris open her presents at home, we then celebrated Christmas Day at my dad and stepmother's house. The lunch was wonderful and we all waddled away from the table. I made a quick trip to Mama's house to deliver the Farkle game to Gary. Made a couple of Merry Christmas phone calls as well.
Little Bit was excited about the trampoline that Santa brought her for Christmas. (Santa's elves stayed up til 3:30am putting it together.) AJ is now styling in a 4-door Ford pickup. Little did I realize it was his Christmas present when I saw it parked in front of Mimi and GoPa's house on Christmas Eve. I'm still admiring the dish washer in my carport. Sam says installing it is on his list of things to do next week.
Kris and I spent the afternoon doing absolutely nothing. Watched a little television, read our books and basically took what Sam calls "a Sunday".
Christmas 2008 has come and gone. Now I get to focus on the FAFSA and income tax return.
Little Bit was excited about the trampoline that Santa brought her for Christmas. (Santa's elves stayed up til 3:30am putting it together.) AJ is now styling in a 4-door Ford pickup. Little did I realize it was his Christmas present when I saw it parked in front of Mimi and GoPa's house on Christmas Eve. I'm still admiring the dish washer in my carport. Sam says installing it is on his list of things to do next week.
Kris and I spent the afternoon doing absolutely nothing. Watched a little television, read our books and basically took what Sam calls "a Sunday".
Christmas 2008 has come and gone. Now I get to focus on the FAFSA and income tax return.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Christmas - Round Three
We spent Christmas Eve at Mama's house. We were missing Kelli and her crew as well as Boo. So it was quieter than usual without the pitter patter of small feet. My mother absolutely loves Christmas and her decorations attest to that fact.
After the initial gifts are exchanged, the adults have their Chinese Christmas. There were eleven of us this year. Its best to have a partner in crime if you really want a particular gift. Let me see if I can explain this properly. Papa first opened a hand mixer. Mama passed on that and opened a set of flashlights. I didn't want either of their gifts so I opened a 5-piece casserole dish set. (My sister-in-law gave me a heads up on what it was and said I'd probably like it.) Memaw liked the casserole dish set and took it away from me. I then opened a 3-piece bowl set. Sam knew I wanted the casserole set and took it away from Memaw. Memaw then took away the bowl set from me. Rather than go to the pile of presents, I took Papa's hand mixer away from him. (Kris really wanted it for when she moves into her apartment.) Papa ended up with a thermos set. Kris' turn was next and she opened a crock pot. And so the cycle went. No one else latched on to someone else's gift so the remainder of the players kept what they opened. At the end of the night, Sam told me that he would swap me the casserole dish set for the hand mixer.
Oh, and I played the worse game of Farkle ever! MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!
After the initial gifts are exchanged, the adults have their Chinese Christmas. There were eleven of us this year. Its best to have a partner in crime if you really want a particular gift. Let me see if I can explain this properly. Papa first opened a hand mixer. Mama passed on that and opened a set of flashlights. I didn't want either of their gifts so I opened a 5-piece casserole dish set. (My sister-in-law gave me a heads up on what it was and said I'd probably like it.) Memaw liked the casserole dish set and took it away from me. I then opened a 3-piece bowl set. Sam knew I wanted the casserole set and took it away from Memaw. Memaw then took away the bowl set from me. Rather than go to the pile of presents, I took Papa's hand mixer away from him. (Kris really wanted it for when she moves into her apartment.) Papa ended up with a thermos set. Kris' turn was next and she opened a crock pot. And so the cycle went. No one else latched on to someone else's gift so the remainder of the players kept what they opened. At the end of the night, Sam told me that he would swap me the casserole dish set for the hand mixer.
Oh, and I played the worse game of Farkle ever! MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Christmas - Round Two
My aunt and uncle brought my grandmother to the Little Town for lunch today. We met at the only cafe my grandmother will eat at in the Little Town. My dad, stepmother, brother and his family, a cousin, Kris and I were in attendance for what we dubbed as Christmas Lunch with the paternal side of my family. It is rare to have all of us together since my aunt, uncle and grandmother live about 90 miles from the Little Town. Grandmom went to live with my aunt and uncle after it was decided that she needed assistance 24/7. It was an adjustment for everybody but it all seems to be working out nicely.
Grandmom isn't as spry as she once was and seems more in tune with my cousin's daughter who just turned three. I skipped down memory lane as I sat across from Grandmom today. She isn't a huggy-kissy kind of grandmother. And she didn't bake cookies or do arts and crafts projects with her grandchildren. What she did do is teach us how to identify animal tracks and bird feathers. She encouraged us to challenge our minds and soak up knowledge like a sponge. Grandmom introduced her grandchildren to the Trinity Episcopal Church and made no bones about us going through Confirmation and becoming members of the church. She is a staunch believer in expressing her opinion and respects people who stand up for what they believe in.
This could be the last Christmas that I got to spend with Grandmom but I like to hope that it wasn't. I couldn't help but smile when she engaged her youngest great-granddaughter (the toddler) in a conversation that only the two of them could understand. Forty-two years ago she probably had the same conversation with me.
Grandmom isn't as spry as she once was and seems more in tune with my cousin's daughter who just turned three. I skipped down memory lane as I sat across from Grandmom today. She isn't a huggy-kissy kind of grandmother. And she didn't bake cookies or do arts and crafts projects with her grandchildren. What she did do is teach us how to identify animal tracks and bird feathers. She encouraged us to challenge our minds and soak up knowledge like a sponge. Grandmom introduced her grandchildren to the Trinity Episcopal Church and made no bones about us going through Confirmation and becoming members of the church. She is a staunch believer in expressing her opinion and respects people who stand up for what they believe in.
This could be the last Christmas that I got to spend with Grandmom but I like to hope that it wasn't. I couldn't help but smile when she engaged her youngest great-granddaughter (the toddler) in a conversation that only the two of them could understand. Forty-two years ago she probably had the same conversation with me.
Tough Lesson
Marshall and I are curious by nature. We are close enough in age that I really couldn't be the boss of him without some kind of pay off. There wasn't anything we wouldn't try once just to see the end results. Usually the results ended in getting our butts busted.
About the time I was 11 or 12, Marshall was 8 and Boo was 6, Mama decided that I was old enough to tend to them during our Christmas break from school. Kelli was an infant and required much more attention than a 12 year old could handle. Daddy was in and out of the house checking on us between ranch chores. Grandmom was just down the road if we had an emergency.
It was too cold to play outside so we entertained ourselves with board games, dodge ball in the hallway with nerf balls and any other kind of games we could come up with that didn't break fragile things (including pictures on the walls). Mama had chores for us to do every day but we put those off until the last minute. One such chore was laundry. Wash, dry, fold and put up the laundry. As I was putting up clothes in my mother's closet, I saw some bags/sacks that required closer investigation. I remember bringing this to Marshall's attention. Lo and behold, it was CHRISTMAS PRESENTS! We were giddy with excitement but didn't tell Boo about our discovery because she would tell on us.
So for two weeks we kept our secret to ourselves thinking we were cool cats. As he did every Christmas since I could remember, Marshall woke me up early Christmas morning. We grabbed our flashlights and snuck down the hall to the living room. We did a quick search and disappointment settled in. There were absolutely no surprises for us under the tree. We had ruined our own Christmas due to our curiosity. I think it was one of the best Christmas Days that Boo ever had. I don't know if we ever told Mama that we had stumbled upon our presents. Maybe she figured it out and knew that us being nosy would result in disappointment. And that was worse than any butt busting I ever got.
About the time I was 11 or 12, Marshall was 8 and Boo was 6, Mama decided that I was old enough to tend to them during our Christmas break from school. Kelli was an infant and required much more attention than a 12 year old could handle. Daddy was in and out of the house checking on us between ranch chores. Grandmom was just down the road if we had an emergency.
It was too cold to play outside so we entertained ourselves with board games, dodge ball in the hallway with nerf balls and any other kind of games we could come up with that didn't break fragile things (including pictures on the walls). Mama had chores for us to do every day but we put those off until the last minute. One such chore was laundry. Wash, dry, fold and put up the laundry. As I was putting up clothes in my mother's closet, I saw some bags/sacks that required closer investigation. I remember bringing this to Marshall's attention. Lo and behold, it was CHRISTMAS PRESENTS! We were giddy with excitement but didn't tell Boo about our discovery because she would tell on us.
So for two weeks we kept our secret to ourselves thinking we were cool cats. As he did every Christmas since I could remember, Marshall woke me up early Christmas morning. We grabbed our flashlights and snuck down the hall to the living room. We did a quick search and disappointment settled in. There were absolutely no surprises for us under the tree. We had ruined our own Christmas due to our curiosity. I think it was one of the best Christmas Days that Boo ever had. I don't know if we ever told Mama that we had stumbled upon our presents. Maybe she figured it out and knew that us being nosy would result in disappointment. And that was worse than any butt busting I ever got.
Monday, December 22, 2008
My Christmas Gift
After six years of listening to me to bitch about the lack of a dishwasher, Santa aka Sam bought a dishwasher for my kitchen. YAHOO! Actually, Sam probably quit listening to me bitch about it after the first couple of months into our relationship. The first time I washed dishes at the ranch I asked Sam, "Where is the dishwasher?" He replied, "When I remodeled the kitchen, my ex-wife assured me she would do the dishes and did not want a dishwasher." I told him to call her up and tell her that there were dishes in the sink for her to wash. ha.ha.
I tend to make a lot of noise when I'm cleaning the kitchen. If Sam or Kris try to carry conversation with me from the other room I cannot hear a word being said. I don't mind cooking but there is no glory in cleaning up the mess. I've broken a few glasses and even a bowl and a plate. We use paper plates at least 90% of the time which saves me a few minutes at the sink. So it goes without saying that I feel like I qualify for a dishwasher.
A couple of weeks ago I caught Sam opening the under-counter cabinets. I immediately jumped to the conclusion that he was checking out the orderliness (or lack of) in my cabinets. I tend to get defensive about that kind of thing. He told me to chill and take five minutes. He confessed a couple of days later that he was thinking about buying a dishwasher as my Christmas present. It was up to me to go online and do some research on dishwashers. My excitement lasted all of three minutes into my investigation because there is a lot more to dishwashers than picking out the right color and brand of machine. I told Sam to surprise me and put the upmost faith into his selection.
As my sisters and I were en route from South Texas on Friday, my cell phone rang. It was Sam and the first words out of his mouth when I answered the phone were, "I hate you." He was sitting in the parking lot of Lowe's and gave me the lowdown on what a pain in the ass it was to buy a dishwasher. Kelli had gone through the same thing when selecting a dishwasher for her house. I turned the phone over to her and let them decide on what kind of machine I needed.
I am now the proud owner of a dishwasher. It is sitting under my carport in 14 yards of bubble wrap. And I suspect it will be after Christmas before Marshall and Sam can coordinate a time to install it in the kitchen. It took me six years to get the dishwasher. Wonder how long it will take to get that store room?
I tend to make a lot of noise when I'm cleaning the kitchen. If Sam or Kris try to carry conversation with me from the other room I cannot hear a word being said. I don't mind cooking but there is no glory in cleaning up the mess. I've broken a few glasses and even a bowl and a plate. We use paper plates at least 90% of the time which saves me a few minutes at the sink. So it goes without saying that I feel like I qualify for a dishwasher.
A couple of weeks ago I caught Sam opening the under-counter cabinets. I immediately jumped to the conclusion that he was checking out the orderliness (or lack of) in my cabinets. I tend to get defensive about that kind of thing. He told me to chill and take five minutes. He confessed a couple of days later that he was thinking about buying a dishwasher as my Christmas present. It was up to me to go online and do some research on dishwashers. My excitement lasted all of three minutes into my investigation because there is a lot more to dishwashers than picking out the right color and brand of machine. I told Sam to surprise me and put the upmost faith into his selection.
As my sisters and I were en route from South Texas on Friday, my cell phone rang. It was Sam and the first words out of his mouth when I answered the phone were, "I hate you." He was sitting in the parking lot of Lowe's and gave me the lowdown on what a pain in the ass it was to buy a dishwasher. Kelli had gone through the same thing when selecting a dishwasher for her house. I turned the phone over to her and let them decide on what kind of machine I needed.
I am now the proud owner of a dishwasher. It is sitting under my carport in 14 yards of bubble wrap. And I suspect it will be after Christmas before Marshall and Sam can coordinate a time to install it in the kitchen. It took me six years to get the dishwasher. Wonder how long it will take to get that store room?
Christmas - Round One
Saturday dawned with the promise of a beautiful day. It was mild enough to usher the four small children outside. We did a walk-about of the neighborhood. My ulterior motive was for the little ones to work out some of the never-ending supply of energy that only children seem to possess. My backyard is blessed to have several pecan trees so our next order of business was to rake some leaves. It wasn't enough that we raked the leaves into piles. Kori wanted to haul the leaves to the burn site. The burn site is situated in the side yard next to the street. I posted a couple of pictures on flickr as proof that the kids really did enjoy hauling leaves to the burn site. Just as luck would have it, the county attorney and his wife stopped by and reminded me of the Child Labor Law. I don't have a clue what he's talking about. These children were simply playing in the leaves and building a fort made of leaves next to the street. Think that will hold up in court?!
We had our first round of Christmas on Saturday. Kris and I met up with Sam's people right after lunch at Vernie's house. Man -- talk about a spread of food! I finally had to push myself away from the table. Got in a quick visit and on to Mama's house we went. More food and more visiting. Kelli and her crew will be staying home for Christmas this year so the little kids opened gifts from us early this year. Gary introduced us to a dice game called "FARKLE". My stepfather absolutely loves this game. (So much in fact that I ordered it from amazon.com this morning as his Christmas gift.) And "Farkle" is exactly what we said every time we took a gamble and rolled the dice one too many times. Fun game if you like games of chance. Kris came to the conclusion that it wouldn't do for us to gamble in Las Vegas. She said I would be saying something stronger than "FARKLE" if I lost money.
We had our first round of Christmas on Saturday. Kris and I met up with Sam's people right after lunch at Vernie's house. Man -- talk about a spread of food! I finally had to push myself away from the table. Got in a quick visit and on to Mama's house we went. More food and more visiting. Kelli and her crew will be staying home for Christmas this year so the little kids opened gifts from us early this year. Gary introduced us to a dice game called "FARKLE". My stepfather absolutely loves this game. (So much in fact that I ordered it from amazon.com this morning as his Christmas gift.) And "Farkle" is exactly what we said every time we took a gamble and rolled the dice one too many times. Fun game if you like games of chance. Kris came to the conclusion that it wouldn't do for us to gamble in Las Vegas. She said I would be saying something stronger than "FARKLE" if I lost money.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Of Family and Funerals
Friday found my siblings and me traveling to South Texas to attend the funeral of our uncle. I am the one who gets car sick so there is never a fight as to who gets to sit in the front seat. Kelli drove to the Little Town on Thursday sans children and husband. Boo drove in on Friday morning and picked us up along with Marshall for what became a very lllooonnngg day. Our first stop was five miles from town when Boo pulled over and asked me to extend the radio antenna. She was determined to pick up decent radio stations along the way. (I am a firm believer in XM Radio but do remember the days of sucky-ass radio reception.)
Kelli came prepared and brought along "Trivial Pursuit - Pop Culture II". We quickly discovered just how stupid we all are. There are six questions on each card ranging from "Fad", "Sports", "Buzz", "Movies", etc. The object of the game (I think) was to answer two questions in a row CORRECTLY. Marshall changed the rule because none of us could correctly answer two questions in a row. Getting one out of the six questions answered correctly became the object of the game. This game kept us entertained for 90% of our trip which is saying a lot for four children who fought like cats and dogs on a 5 minute trip to the grocery store. "Stop looking at me!" "Don't touch me!" "I'm gonna tell Mama if you do that again!"
We grabbed a quick lunch at Sonic and checked in with Mama. Gary gave us directions to our aunt and uncle's ranch which was about another 15 minute drive. I swear we crossed the Texas/Mexico border at some point on that ranch. It was a very awkward situation when we walked into the house. It had been over 20 years since I had last seen my first cousin. I had never met her two children. These people are family but felt like strangers. The appropriate greetings were made and we headed back to town to the church. Have you ever attended a funeral and as the family walked in, you asked the person sitting next to you, "Who is that blonde woman? How is she related to the deceased?" That is how we felt when we filed into the church. The preacher did not personally know my uncle. The preacher came on board about three years after my uncle and his family moved to Oklahoma. So, the preacher did not deliver an eulogy -- he took advantage of the situation and delivered a sermon.
We drifted to a stranger's house after the funeral service where tea and sandwiches and sweets were served. I was in desperate need of an adult beverage but to no avail. The drive back home was just as long as the morning trip was to South Texas. We left Marshall to ride home with our stepfather so it was sisterly chatter in Boo's vehicle. And Boo never did find a decent radio station for us to listen to.
Kelli came prepared and brought along "Trivial Pursuit - Pop Culture II". We quickly discovered just how stupid we all are. There are six questions on each card ranging from "Fad", "Sports", "Buzz", "Movies", etc. The object of the game (I think) was to answer two questions in a row CORRECTLY. Marshall changed the rule because none of us could correctly answer two questions in a row. Getting one out of the six questions answered correctly became the object of the game. This game kept us entertained for 90% of our trip which is saying a lot for four children who fought like cats and dogs on a 5 minute trip to the grocery store. "Stop looking at me!" "Don't touch me!" "I'm gonna tell Mama if you do that again!"
We grabbed a quick lunch at Sonic and checked in with Mama. Gary gave us directions to our aunt and uncle's ranch which was about another 15 minute drive. I swear we crossed the Texas/Mexico border at some point on that ranch. It was a very awkward situation when we walked into the house. It had been over 20 years since I had last seen my first cousin. I had never met her two children. These people are family but felt like strangers. The appropriate greetings were made and we headed back to town to the church. Have you ever attended a funeral and as the family walked in, you asked the person sitting next to you, "Who is that blonde woman? How is she related to the deceased?" That is how we felt when we filed into the church. The preacher did not personally know my uncle. The preacher came on board about three years after my uncle and his family moved to Oklahoma. So, the preacher did not deliver an eulogy -- he took advantage of the situation and delivered a sermon.
We drifted to a stranger's house after the funeral service where tea and sandwiches and sweets were served. I was in desperate need of an adult beverage but to no avail. The drive back home was just as long as the morning trip was to South Texas. We left Marshall to ride home with our stepfather so it was sisterly chatter in Boo's vehicle. And Boo never did find a decent radio station for us to listen to.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Flickr
With the help of Rana K, I was able to hunt and peck and get some pictures posted. My home computer kicked me out of commission twice so what should've been an easy task turned into a chore.
The pictures posted are some from the archives. And that's probably what you'll get until I order myself a new camera. This whole visitation shit of the camera between Sam and me is for the birds. I enjoy taking random pictures and need a small camera that fits easily into my purse or back pocket and takes clear pictures. Rana has suggested one that I should consider for just said purposes. I'll tackle that project later on in the weekend.
Kris is the best at capturing perfect pictures. I will be borrowing some of the ones she took as we go along with this blog. She is more into sunsets and clouds and things of that nature. She's been to Hawaii, Florida, the Bahamas and even San Francisco. My idea of a trip is to Kerrville and back. So I will have some awesome scenic pictures to share with you in the future.
Thanks for reading my blog! I hope you are enjoying reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. I'll be in trouble if Rana K ever decides to critique my grammar and punctuation.
The pictures posted are some from the archives. And that's probably what you'll get until I order myself a new camera. This whole visitation shit of the camera between Sam and me is for the birds. I enjoy taking random pictures and need a small camera that fits easily into my purse or back pocket and takes clear pictures. Rana has suggested one that I should consider for just said purposes. I'll tackle that project later on in the weekend.
Kris is the best at capturing perfect pictures. I will be borrowing some of the ones she took as we go along with this blog. She is more into sunsets and clouds and things of that nature. She's been to Hawaii, Florida, the Bahamas and even San Francisco. My idea of a trip is to Kerrville and back. So I will have some awesome scenic pictures to share with you in the future.
Thanks for reading my blog! I hope you are enjoying reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. I'll be in trouble if Rana K ever decides to critique my grammar and punctuation.
Little Cafe in The Little Town
Sam and I had lunch today at one of our local eating establishments in the Little Town. It is locally owned and operated and the owner always makes it a point to come out and say "thank you for your business". For me, eating out isn't so much about having someone else cook and clean (that is a plus) as it is about bumping into people you don't see very often. And there isn't any great concern if the waitress doesn't get to your table within 10 seconds of you sitting down. The laid back atmosphere is part of the dining-out experience in the Little Town.
Most folks around here are sincere when they ask, "How are you doing?" And most folks will honestly listen to the answer. People ask about your families, comment on the weather and plans are made to get together in the near future for a cup of coffee.
Go to any one of our local restaurants to learn the latest scoop in the Little Town. Pull up a chair, order a cup of coffee and keep an ear open to the conversations going on around you. Sometimes you learn more than what you wanted to learn. Sometimes the gossip gets so twisted around that you leave more confused than when you sat down in your chair. The rumor mill is never idle in the Little Town. Mama always said, "Don't believe everything you hear and only half of what you see."
It could be several weeks before I bump into the same folks I saw today. We left with the parting words of "don't be a stranger" as we settled our tab with the cashier. And she was sincere when she said it.
Most folks around here are sincere when they ask, "How are you doing?" And most folks will honestly listen to the answer. People ask about your families, comment on the weather and plans are made to get together in the near future for a cup of coffee.
Go to any one of our local restaurants to learn the latest scoop in the Little Town. Pull up a chair, order a cup of coffee and keep an ear open to the conversations going on around you. Sometimes you learn more than what you wanted to learn. Sometimes the gossip gets so twisted around that you leave more confused than when you sat down in your chair. The rumor mill is never idle in the Little Town. Mama always said, "Don't believe everything you hear and only half of what you see."
It could be several weeks before I bump into the same folks I saw today. We left with the parting words of "don't be a stranger" as we settled our tab with the cashier. And she was sincere when she said it.
Mystery
I went to bed at my usual time of about 8:30pm on Tuesday night. I've actually been sleeping better since Cordelia doesn't bark all night long. Anyway, at about 1am I awoke to the call of nature. Then I realized that I had left the Christmas tree lights on and made a trip to the living room to turn them off. I ambled back to bed and had just put my head down on the pillow when I heard what sounded like a gun shot in my backyard. KAPOW! I mean it scared the shit out of me! I immediately picked up the phone and called my neighbor. I know, a citified person would have called 911.
Ring-ring. Conversation as follows:
"Did you hear that, too?" asked Mimi.
"Crap, it sounded like a gun shot in one of our backyards!" I exclaimed.
"The dogs aren't barking, though." Mimi said. "Are you by yourself?"
"Yes but I'll look out the back window and see if I see anything out of the ordinary."
"Okay, let me ask Gopa if he heard anything." said Mimi. "He's in here watching tv. He just said didn't hear anything." Gopa looks outside and didn't see anything out of the ordinary. He suggested that we heard a pecan tree limb breaking and/or hitting the roof of one of his many sheds in his backyard.
I flipped on the outside light and peeked out my back window but all was quiet. The deer were still bedded down as usual and I didn't see anybody or any vehicles moving around.
Now I think I've heard enough gun shots in my life to recognize the sound. However, this is one mystery that has me stupified. I checked for broken limbs at daylight but there weren't any in either yard. Sam suggested that somebody was road hunting since we have an abundance of whitetail deer in the neighborhood. I didn't stumble on any kind of blood trail that would indicate that a deer had been shot but why argue with a man.
I would almost admit that I imagined the whole thing but that would mean that Mimi had been sucked into the bizarre vortex with me. At least I'd have someone to share a room with and I'd even let her borrow my crayons.
Ring-ring. Conversation as follows:
"Did you hear that, too?" asked Mimi.
"Crap, it sounded like a gun shot in one of our backyards!" I exclaimed.
"The dogs aren't barking, though." Mimi said. "Are you by yourself?"
"Yes but I'll look out the back window and see if I see anything out of the ordinary."
"Okay, let me ask Gopa if he heard anything." said Mimi. "He's in here watching tv. He just said didn't hear anything." Gopa looks outside and didn't see anything out of the ordinary. He suggested that we heard a pecan tree limb breaking and/or hitting the roof of one of his many sheds in his backyard.
I flipped on the outside light and peeked out my back window but all was quiet. The deer were still bedded down as usual and I didn't see anybody or any vehicles moving around.
Now I think I've heard enough gun shots in my life to recognize the sound. However, this is one mystery that has me stupified. I checked for broken limbs at daylight but there weren't any in either yard. Sam suggested that somebody was road hunting since we have an abundance of whitetail deer in the neighborhood. I didn't stumble on any kind of blood trail that would indicate that a deer had been shot but why argue with a man.
I would almost admit that I imagined the whole thing but that would mean that Mimi had been sucked into the bizarre vortex with me. At least I'd have someone to share a room with and I'd even let her borrow my crayons.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
The Gazing Ball Part II
The gazing balls were still on sale when Kris went back to Hobby Lobby. She carefully selected another one and shuttled it safely to her dorm room.
I had taken the stand outside and placed it in various places in and around flower beds, the patio, etc. I decided the best place for it would be in the flower bed outside the picture window. That way we could enjoy the gazing ball from indoors as well as when we are outdoors. Kris agreed with me on the location for the gazing ball.
I checked on Kris yesterday afternoon after she had taken her last final. She was pondering on how she was going to pack all of her belongings into her car including the gazing ball. (She said one kid had a UHAUL trailer!) I asked her to call me when she got to her dad's apartment in the city. I hadn't heard from her in what I thought was ample enough time for her to have gotten to the city. ring-ring!
She answered her phone and said in a woeful tone of voice, "Mama, you won't believe what just happened?! I opened the door of my car and the gazing ball rolled out and crashed to the pavement!" I could her dad in the background muttering something about the pretty gold glitter that was on the inside of the gazing ball.
Sigh. I will just continue to admire the gazing ball across the street at the House of Dortha. It's a good thing it is protected behind the wire panel from Kris and me.
I had taken the stand outside and placed it in various places in and around flower beds, the patio, etc. I decided the best place for it would be in the flower bed outside the picture window. That way we could enjoy the gazing ball from indoors as well as when we are outdoors. Kris agreed with me on the location for the gazing ball.
I checked on Kris yesterday afternoon after she had taken her last final. She was pondering on how she was going to pack all of her belongings into her car including the gazing ball. (She said one kid had a UHAUL trailer!) I asked her to call me when she got to her dad's apartment in the city. I hadn't heard from her in what I thought was ample enough time for her to have gotten to the city. ring-ring!
She answered her phone and said in a woeful tone of voice, "Mama, you won't believe what just happened?! I opened the door of my car and the gazing ball rolled out and crashed to the pavement!" I could her dad in the background muttering something about the pretty gold glitter that was on the inside of the gazing ball.
Sigh. I will just continue to admire the gazing ball across the street at the House of Dortha. It's a good thing it is protected behind the wire panel from Kris and me.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Directions
I tracked my mother to the beauty parlor (are they still called that?) today. We've had a death in the family which requires my mother to be with her sister for the next several days. I needed to know what my marching orders were prior to the funeral.
Conversation between Mama and me while the cosmotologist is trimming Mama's hair:
"Hey, Mama! Are you not working at all today?"
"No. I told you that I am leaving this afternoon to meet your aunt in South Texas. Will you call Marshall and tell him the funeral is scheduled for Friday? I've already talked to Holli and Kelli."
"Sure. Can you give me directions to the church?"
"I think you go to the last light or second to last light on that street you come into town on. Then you'll turn right on that street that takes you by the courthouse. The church will be a block or two to the right of that street. I think its across the street from the funeral home. Just drive in that general direction and you'll find the church."
Believe it or not, I actually wrote those exact directions down like I know exactly where in the hell we're supposed to be on Friday. Little Town folks are famous for giving directions just like that. We don't know street names. We use landmarks and it goes something like this:
"Can you tell me how to get to Mr. Green's house?"
"Sure. Go about three blocks up the street. Go through the light and there will be a barber shop on your left. Go past it and the bank, too. Take the next street on your right between the church and the post office. That street is a dead-end so be sure and take the first left you come to or you'll have to turn around in Miss Vera's driveway and she doesn't take too kindly to that. About half-way up that street on your right there will be a brick house with blue shutters on the windows, then a white house with a swimming pool in the side yard and the next house is Mr. Green's house. It's the one with the pipe fence around the yard. "
I asked Mama to please call me with some better directions to ensure that her children will arrive at the church on time.
Conversation between Mama and me while the cosmotologist is trimming Mama's hair:
"Hey, Mama! Are you not working at all today?"
"No. I told you that I am leaving this afternoon to meet your aunt in South Texas. Will you call Marshall and tell him the funeral is scheduled for Friday? I've already talked to Holli and Kelli."
"Sure. Can you give me directions to the church?"
"I think you go to the last light or second to last light on that street you come into town on. Then you'll turn right on that street that takes you by the courthouse. The church will be a block or two to the right of that street. I think its across the street from the funeral home. Just drive in that general direction and you'll find the church."
Believe it or not, I actually wrote those exact directions down like I know exactly where in the hell we're supposed to be on Friday. Little Town folks are famous for giving directions just like that. We don't know street names. We use landmarks and it goes something like this:
"Can you tell me how to get to Mr. Green's house?"
"Sure. Go about three blocks up the street. Go through the light and there will be a barber shop on your left. Go past it and the bank, too. Take the next street on your right between the church and the post office. That street is a dead-end so be sure and take the first left you come to or you'll have to turn around in Miss Vera's driveway and she doesn't take too kindly to that. About half-way up that street on your right there will be a brick house with blue shutters on the windows, then a white house with a swimming pool in the side yard and the next house is Mr. Green's house. It's the one with the pipe fence around the yard. "
I asked Mama to please call me with some better directions to ensure that her children will arrive at the church on time.
Learning to Drive
Learning to drive is a must at a very young age when living on a ranch. My grandmother had a red and white Ford Bronco. The gears were what we called "shift on the column". Standard transmissions required learning to operate a clutch without giving your passengers whip lash. I don't recall the backseat having seatbelts. If you weren't the driver or in the front seat, you had to learn to hold on to the side of the bench seat in the back which you had to share with a brother and/or sister AND a very smelly dog named Sadie. There wasn't a road or trail Grandmom wouldn't take in the Bronco.
Grandmom would begin your driving lesson when you were tall enough to reach the pedals. What a glorious moment when Grandmom said, "I think we'll have a driving lesson today." YAHOO! With an eager mind and restless hands and feet, I climbed into the driver's seat. Hhmm, I had no idea how to even start the damn Bronco. There is a lot to remember when learning to drive a standard transmission vehicle. Left foot on the clutch, right foot on the brake. Turn the key on (which was on the dashboard) and release the parking brake. Shift the gear into reverse and very S.L.O.W.L.Y. let out the clutch and gently give the Bronco a little gas. And I do mean S.L.O.W.L.Y. or everybody was going to end up in neck braces including Sadie. It took about 10 minutes to get from starting the vehicle to actually going foward during the first lesson.
What a grown up feeling to be able to drive even though we were still in the driveway. I didn't get out of first gear until Lesson Number Three or Four. Going in reverse was always a challenge until Grandmom let me adjust the mirrors. The real treat was being able to drive from Grandmom's house to the post office which meant you crossed the river. Aligning the Bronco to go across the cattle guard that spanned the river was down right scarey for me.
My dad always had standard transmission pickups; some with column shifts and some with a floor shift (stick shift as we called them). UNTIL he bought a Chevrolet that not only had an automatic transmission but it also had power steering! And that's when I had my first vehicle accident at the age of 12. My brother and I had to help our dad move some cattle from a pasture to the pens. As my dad was walking along and pushing the cattle to the pens, he told my brother and me to bring the Chevrolet pickup down the hill to the pens. Wow -- how much easier it was to drive that pickup! Until I forgot that I had power steering and turned too sharp as I was going through the gate. CRUNCH! I managed to center the headlight and right front fender on a cedar post. I said, "Oh, shit!" Marshall said, "You're in trouble now!" and he bailed out of the pickup. Let's just say that I forfeited my right to drive anything but the riding lawn mower for the rest of the summer.
Grandmom would begin your driving lesson when you were tall enough to reach the pedals. What a glorious moment when Grandmom said, "I think we'll have a driving lesson today." YAHOO! With an eager mind and restless hands and feet, I climbed into the driver's seat. Hhmm, I had no idea how to even start the damn Bronco. There is a lot to remember when learning to drive a standard transmission vehicle. Left foot on the clutch, right foot on the brake. Turn the key on (which was on the dashboard) and release the parking brake. Shift the gear into reverse and very S.L.O.W.L.Y. let out the clutch and gently give the Bronco a little gas. And I do mean S.L.O.W.L.Y. or everybody was going to end up in neck braces including Sadie. It took about 10 minutes to get from starting the vehicle to actually going foward during the first lesson.
What a grown up feeling to be able to drive even though we were still in the driveway. I didn't get out of first gear until Lesson Number Three or Four. Going in reverse was always a challenge until Grandmom let me adjust the mirrors. The real treat was being able to drive from Grandmom's house to the post office which meant you crossed the river. Aligning the Bronco to go across the cattle guard that spanned the river was down right scarey for me.
My dad always had standard transmission pickups; some with column shifts and some with a floor shift (stick shift as we called them). UNTIL he bought a Chevrolet that not only had an automatic transmission but it also had power steering! And that's when I had my first vehicle accident at the age of 12. My brother and I had to help our dad move some cattle from a pasture to the pens. As my dad was walking along and pushing the cattle to the pens, he told my brother and me to bring the Chevrolet pickup down the hill to the pens. Wow -- how much easier it was to drive that pickup! Until I forgot that I had power steering and turned too sharp as I was going through the gate. CRUNCH! I managed to center the headlight and right front fender on a cedar post. I said, "Oh, shit!" Marshall said, "You're in trouble now!" and he bailed out of the pickup. Let's just say that I forfeited my right to drive anything but the riding lawn mower for the rest of the summer.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Civic Duty
The county clerk prevailed upon me to be a part of the January 2009 Term Grand Jury selection committee. So I reported for my civic duty at 8:30 this morning at the County Courtroom. This was a "first" and I wasn't quite sure what was expected of me.
The Grand Jury Commission is made up of five people who meet certain requirements as outlined by the judge. Our job was to pick 20 people who we felt would be fair jurors. After being sworn in, we were given the latest and greatest voter register and the Little Town phone book. Paper and pencils were issued and we each began a list of names. We then compared our lists and suggestions were made as to who should or shouldn't be considered to serve on the grand jury. Then the 20 names were shuffled and drawn for the order in which they would be called.
Sounds simple; doesn't it? The first time we drew the 20 names, the majority in the top 12 were women. The second time around, the majority were men. So we tossed the whole list away and started over. It took us a couple of hours but we got the job done. The five of us who served as commissioners are now exempt for twelve months from serving on the Grand Jury.
And so now you know as much as I do about the Little Town method of selecting a Grand Jury. I suppose this is how it's done in every county of our great state. Sandra, I'm sure you know much more about this stuff than I do but for a small town girl I found it very enlightening. Oh, and by the way -- I donated my civic duty paycheck to the local Meals on Wheels program.
The Grand Jury Commission is made up of five people who meet certain requirements as outlined by the judge. Our job was to pick 20 people who we felt would be fair jurors. After being sworn in, we were given the latest and greatest voter register and the Little Town phone book. Paper and pencils were issued and we each began a list of names. We then compared our lists and suggestions were made as to who should or shouldn't be considered to serve on the grand jury. Then the 20 names were shuffled and drawn for the order in which they would be called.
Sounds simple; doesn't it? The first time we drew the 20 names, the majority in the top 12 were women. The second time around, the majority were men. So we tossed the whole list away and started over. It took us a couple of hours but we got the job done. The five of us who served as commissioners are now exempt for twelve months from serving on the Grand Jury.
And so now you know as much as I do about the Little Town method of selecting a Grand Jury. I suppose this is how it's done in every county of our great state. Sandra, I'm sure you know much more about this stuff than I do but for a small town girl I found it very enlightening. Oh, and by the way -- I donated my civic duty paycheck to the local Meals on Wheels program.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Saturday Afternoon Drive
Kris decided to surprise me -- again! She was very evasive about her plans for Friday night when I talked to her on the phone. I thought she might have a date or was going somewhere she knew I wouldn't approve of. Just as my claws were beginning to show, she let me off the hook and said she was bringing a girl friend to the Little Town for the weekend. Both girls wrap up their finals on Tuesday but didn't want to hang around the dorm. I mean, come on, who wants to study when they could enjoy the fresh December air in the Little Town??
Morgan is from a small town around the Houston/Galveston area. So it was quite a treat for Kris and me to show her the places that mean so much to us in our county. We left during the early afternoon and headed to the southern end of the county where I grew up. The river is low but is the most beautiful dark blue and brilliant green colors that only a spring-fed river can be. Morgan took several pictures of the bluffs along the river. We came upon some axis, whitetail and even some turkeys. The turkeys were too quick for her to get a good shot but she enjoyed seeing the wildlife.
It's amazing how I take things for granted in and around the Little Town. Driving across Flat Rock Bridge is something I do almost EVERY SINGLE DAY but when I heard the "wow" from the back seat I took the time to see it through a visitor's eyes. I was also thankful for the reminder when we took Morgan to Lovers Leap. I had forgotten what a majestic view one has from that point. The wind was blowing like a mo-fo from the south but it didn't deter Morgan from getting some great shots of the fairgrounds, golf course and the Little Town. We ventured across the bridge which is an eye sore at the moment due to construction. We made the loop through the park and took in the dam, geese and ducks. We were running out of daylight by this time or we would've gone to the western part of the county.
There is something to be said about stopping and smelling the roses. And it is something I plan on doing more often.
Morgan is from a small town around the Houston/Galveston area. So it was quite a treat for Kris and me to show her the places that mean so much to us in our county. We left during the early afternoon and headed to the southern end of the county where I grew up. The river is low but is the most beautiful dark blue and brilliant green colors that only a spring-fed river can be. Morgan took several pictures of the bluffs along the river. We came upon some axis, whitetail and even some turkeys. The turkeys were too quick for her to get a good shot but she enjoyed seeing the wildlife.
It's amazing how I take things for granted in and around the Little Town. Driving across Flat Rock Bridge is something I do almost EVERY SINGLE DAY but when I heard the "wow" from the back seat I took the time to see it through a visitor's eyes. I was also thankful for the reminder when we took Morgan to Lovers Leap. I had forgotten what a majestic view one has from that point. The wind was blowing like a mo-fo from the south but it didn't deter Morgan from getting some great shots of the fairgrounds, golf course and the Little Town. We ventured across the bridge which is an eye sore at the moment due to construction. We made the loop through the park and took in the dam, geese and ducks. We were running out of daylight by this time or we would've gone to the western part of the county.
There is something to be said about stopping and smelling the roses. And it is something I plan on doing more often.
Friday, December 12, 2008
The Chicken Lady
My mother has been a country girl all of her life. I guess chickens have always been a part of her life and our lives as well. I'm sure she had to help prepare game chickens for many a meal while she was growing up. We were spared that nasty chore and were thankful for the local grocery store in that respect.
Gathering eggs was like an Easter egg hunt every day for us. The hens were sneaky about where they would lay eggs. We might find one in the dog house, another one under the wheelbarrow, another one behind a shovel leaning against the smokehouse, etc. It kinda took the fun out of it when they actually laid eggs in the boxes that Mama prepared for that very reason. Of course we didn't dare disturb a hen who was nesting --- get flogged just once and you won't forget it. Same theory applies when messing with the little chicks. A mama hen will protect her little chicks with the same attitude as a mama bear protecting her cubs.
haha -- speaking of getting flogged --- I have to veer away from my Chicken Lady post for just a minute.
Kris was about three years old when she had her first (and last) chicken flogging. A black mama hen had just hatched out her chicks and they were busy scratching in the yard. Kris just knew she could catch one of those little chicks. And so off she went in her uncoordinated manner of walking behind the mama hen and her babies. That mama hen turned and started chasing Kris. Kris tripped and fell face down in the dirt. The hen jumped on Kris' back and flogged the shit out of her!! Of course I was concerned for Kris' well-being and trying not to laugh. I shoo away the mama hen as Kris pulls herself up and through her gulping sobs she says, "Mama, (gulp) that chicken (gulp) flopped me!"
We raised lots of chickens and even had a few favorites along the way. If a coon killed a hen while she was sitting on her nest, my mother would wrap the eggs in a towel and place them on the hot water heater to see if the silly things would hatch. (Our hot water heater was one of those big square ceramic ones.) It was kinda neat to watch Mama as she would help the chicks break through their shells. Then she would buy "scratch" from the feed store and teach the chicks how to eat. Daddy didn't like it when the chickens tried to roost on the patio. Something about chicken shit?!
My mother still raises chickens. The chickens are trained to roost in their coop and Mama latches the gate closed every night to keep them safe from varmits. Every morning, she lets them out so she can cuss at them for tearing up her yard. She collects the eggs by the dozens and distributes them to her family and friends. Mama will be easy to entertain when the day comes. I'll just put her in a lawn chair in a house dress, flip flops, and wide brimmed hat. Give her a bucket of milo and corn. The Chicken Lady can just sit there and feed her chickens all day long.
Gathering eggs was like an Easter egg hunt every day for us. The hens were sneaky about where they would lay eggs. We might find one in the dog house, another one under the wheelbarrow, another one behind a shovel leaning against the smokehouse, etc. It kinda took the fun out of it when they actually laid eggs in the boxes that Mama prepared for that very reason. Of course we didn't dare disturb a hen who was nesting --- get flogged just once and you won't forget it. Same theory applies when messing with the little chicks. A mama hen will protect her little chicks with the same attitude as a mama bear protecting her cubs.
haha -- speaking of getting flogged --- I have to veer away from my Chicken Lady post for just a minute.
Kris was about three years old when she had her first (and last) chicken flogging. A black mama hen had just hatched out her chicks and they were busy scratching in the yard. Kris just knew she could catch one of those little chicks. And so off she went in her uncoordinated manner of walking behind the mama hen and her babies. That mama hen turned and started chasing Kris. Kris tripped and fell face down in the dirt. The hen jumped on Kris' back and flogged the shit out of her!! Of course I was concerned for Kris' well-being and trying not to laugh. I shoo away the mama hen as Kris pulls herself up and through her gulping sobs she says, "Mama, (gulp) that chicken (gulp) flopped me!"
We raised lots of chickens and even had a few favorites along the way. If a coon killed a hen while she was sitting on her nest, my mother would wrap the eggs in a towel and place them on the hot water heater to see if the silly things would hatch. (Our hot water heater was one of those big square ceramic ones.) It was kinda neat to watch Mama as she would help the chicks break through their shells. Then she would buy "scratch" from the feed store and teach the chicks how to eat. Daddy didn't like it when the chickens tried to roost on the patio. Something about chicken shit?!
My mother still raises chickens. The chickens are trained to roost in their coop and Mama latches the gate closed every night to keep them safe from varmits. Every morning, she lets them out so she can cuss at them for tearing up her yard. She collects the eggs by the dozens and distributes them to her family and friends. Mama will be easy to entertain when the day comes. I'll just put her in a lawn chair in a house dress, flip flops, and wide brimmed hat. Give her a bucket of milo and corn. The Chicken Lady can just sit there and feed her chickens all day long.
Chickens and Night Owls
I am an early riser. Even on the weekends I am usually out of bed between 5:30am and 6am. I know that sounds crazy to most people. Even as a child, I would lay awake for hours in my bed waiting for someone else in the household to wake up so I could get up. (The rule on weekend mornings was "BE QUIET!" at our house.) Daddy would leave early to go to the ranch and Mama would try to catch a few extra ZZZZZs.
We lived in the Little Town the first 8 years of my life before moving to the ranch. What did most every child in America do on Saturday mornings? WATCH CARTOONS! Sounds lame but we did it. My brother and I would tiptoe across the hardwood floors to the living room. We would sit as close to the television as we dared and barely turn up the volume. We weren't allowed to eat in the living room for fear that something would get spilled. So we would eat cereal right out of the box and flick the crumbs under the television. WITHOUT FAIL, we would get braver as the morning wore on and slowly turn up the volume. Yep, you guessed it -- Mama would holler from the bedroom, "TURN DOWN THAT TV!"
The majority of my family are night owls. They can stay up til midnight and still function normally the following day. On an average, my bedtime is between 8:30pm and 9pm. I've been known to retire as early as 8pm. Mind you, I'm getting up between 4:30am and 5am on weekdays. I know its a disppointment at family get-togethers when they start pulling out the dominoes at 8pm and I am saying goodnight. The sun goes down and I'm looking for my nest.
With the family scheduled to descend upon Mama's house beginning next weekend, I am hoping I can manage to play at least one round of Chicken Foot before turning into a pumpkin.
We lived in the Little Town the first 8 years of my life before moving to the ranch. What did most every child in America do on Saturday mornings? WATCH CARTOONS! Sounds lame but we did it. My brother and I would tiptoe across the hardwood floors to the living room. We would sit as close to the television as we dared and barely turn up the volume. We weren't allowed to eat in the living room for fear that something would get spilled. So we would eat cereal right out of the box and flick the crumbs under the television. WITHOUT FAIL, we would get braver as the morning wore on and slowly turn up the volume. Yep, you guessed it -- Mama would holler from the bedroom, "TURN DOWN THAT TV!"
The majority of my family are night owls. They can stay up til midnight and still function normally the following day. On an average, my bedtime is between 8:30pm and 9pm. I've been known to retire as early as 8pm. Mind you, I'm getting up between 4:30am and 5am on weekdays. I know its a disppointment at family get-togethers when they start pulling out the dominoes at 8pm and I am saying goodnight. The sun goes down and I'm looking for my nest.
With the family scheduled to descend upon Mama's house beginning next weekend, I am hoping I can manage to play at least one round of Chicken Foot before turning into a pumpkin.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
The Gazing Ball
The House of Dortha has the most beautiful gazing ball in the front flower bed. I probably enjoy it more than my neighbor because our houses face each other from across the street. On one of my many driveway visits with Dortha, she caught me eyeballing her gazing ball. I commented on how pretty it was. If I remember correctly, this is the second one Dortha has had. Mind you, her yardman has it situated in the flower bed BEHIND wire panels. It is safe from deer, cats and of course, me.
I told Kris that a gazing ball serves no other purpose than to look pretty. But wouldn't it be neat to have one for our yard? My front yard looks like shit. Truly it does. My mother felt sorry for my yard and bought me some sort of box hedges and two "yellow bell" flowering plants. Kris and I planted all the lovely plants. The only thing that survived the first year was one of the yellow bells. So my mother bought four more yellow bells and so far, so good.
Kris presented me with my Christmas present on Tuesday when she popped in for an overnight visit. IT WAS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PURPLE GAZING BALL! We talked about where it should hold court in the back yard. But since it was dark we opted to leave it in the house for now. You know where this story is going; don't you?
I am a creature of habit and I know where every piece of furniture is in my house. I know how many steps it takes to get from my bed to the bathroom. I can locate a glass in the cabinet at midnight and fill it with water without ever turning on the light. So on Tuesday night, I do my usual routine of locking the doors and turning off the lights. I switched off the Christmas lights and a couple of lamps in the living room. Made the corner by the recliner and CRASH! I mean I knew the instant my leg bumped the gazing ball stand that there was no saving the gazing ball. I said a few cuss words. (Okay, more than a few.) Kris came from around the corner and was turning on lights as she was headed my way. The beautiful gazing ball had shattered into a hundred pieces. Shards of glass scattered everywhere. And did you know that the interior of a gazing ball has a very thick layer of gold glitter?!
Believe it or not, I was at a total loss of words after my initial outburst of cursing. I now have a pretty wrought iron gazing ball stand with no gazing ball. Kris said she'll go back to Hobby Lobby and see if she can find another purple gazing ball. In the meantime, I'm still cleaning up gold glitter at the scene of the accident.
I told Kris that a gazing ball serves no other purpose than to look pretty. But wouldn't it be neat to have one for our yard? My front yard looks like shit. Truly it does. My mother felt sorry for my yard and bought me some sort of box hedges and two "yellow bell" flowering plants. Kris and I planted all the lovely plants. The only thing that survived the first year was one of the yellow bells. So my mother bought four more yellow bells and so far, so good.
Kris presented me with my Christmas present on Tuesday when she popped in for an overnight visit. IT WAS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL PURPLE GAZING BALL! We talked about where it should hold court in the back yard. But since it was dark we opted to leave it in the house for now. You know where this story is going; don't you?
I am a creature of habit and I know where every piece of furniture is in my house. I know how many steps it takes to get from my bed to the bathroom. I can locate a glass in the cabinet at midnight and fill it with water without ever turning on the light. So on Tuesday night, I do my usual routine of locking the doors and turning off the lights. I switched off the Christmas lights and a couple of lamps in the living room. Made the corner by the recliner and CRASH! I mean I knew the instant my leg bumped the gazing ball stand that there was no saving the gazing ball. I said a few cuss words. (Okay, more than a few.) Kris came from around the corner and was turning on lights as she was headed my way. The beautiful gazing ball had shattered into a hundred pieces. Shards of glass scattered everywhere. And did you know that the interior of a gazing ball has a very thick layer of gold glitter?!
Believe it or not, I was at a total loss of words after my initial outburst of cursing. I now have a pretty wrought iron gazing ball stand with no gazing ball. Kris said she'll go back to Hobby Lobby and see if she can find another purple gazing ball. In the meantime, I'm still cleaning up gold glitter at the scene of the accident.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Summer is not at the back door....
I am borrowing the term "Summer is not at the back door..." from my dearest friend, Nancy. This latest cold front is more like an artic blast for those of us who live south of Round Top.
Three cats rule the roost in this household. Daisy Duke is the calico bitch cat. The Gray Cat is a fluffy lovebug and offspring of Daisy. And Simba is the mild mannered fluffy lion cat. Actually, all of the cats are fluffy like me. Daisy and Gray Baby (as he is affectionately known) tend to be housecats after Labor Day. Simba prefers the outdoors but this artic blast has driven him indoors. Like most cats, they prefer sunbeams for their naps. But they will make do with the heat blowing from the floor vent just as well. And its no big deal to wake up with all three of the mousers piled up at the foot of my bed on winter mornings.
I have three outside doors in my house. Two doors face the north and the front door faces the west under the carport. These cats are well trained and prefer to do their bitness outside. "Meow" at the front door; door opens and cat backs away from the door. Same cat "Meow" at North Door #1; door opens and cat backs away from the door. Same damn cat "Meow" at North Door #2; door opens and cat backs away from the door. Back to to the front door and the cat reluctantly enters the Antartica Circle with a gentle nudge from the one who feeds them.
Nancy and I believe they are looking for "summer". They would settle for "spring". And so until the end of March until early April, I will have to tell the three amigos, "Summer is not at the back door."
Three cats rule the roost in this household. Daisy Duke is the calico bitch cat. The Gray Cat is a fluffy lovebug and offspring of Daisy. And Simba is the mild mannered fluffy lion cat. Actually, all of the cats are fluffy like me. Daisy and Gray Baby (as he is affectionately known) tend to be housecats after Labor Day. Simba prefers the outdoors but this artic blast has driven him indoors. Like most cats, they prefer sunbeams for their naps. But they will make do with the heat blowing from the floor vent just as well. And its no big deal to wake up with all three of the mousers piled up at the foot of my bed on winter mornings.
I have three outside doors in my house. Two doors face the north and the front door faces the west under the carport. These cats are well trained and prefer to do their bitness outside. "Meow" at the front door; door opens and cat backs away from the door. Same cat "Meow" at North Door #1; door opens and cat backs away from the door. Same damn cat "Meow" at North Door #2; door opens and cat backs away from the door. Back to to the front door and the cat reluctantly enters the Antartica Circle with a gentle nudge from the one who feeds them.
Nancy and I believe they are looking for "summer". They would settle for "spring". And so until the end of March until early April, I will have to tell the three amigos, "Summer is not at the back door."
Surprise Visit
I was blessed with a surprise visit from Kris yesterday! She rode to the Little Town with a fellow classmate from BU (they also graduated together in the Little Town Class of 2008). It is a turnaround trip for them but I am grateful for the few hours I get to spend with her.
Kris takes her first college final tomorrow and will wrap up all finals next Tuesday. She is stressing about the Spanish final which is on Friday. I am proud of her for staying focused on her grades. She received a very prestigious four-year scholarship from a foundation based in the Hill Country upon her graduation from high school. BU also awarded her a merit scholarship and she knows that without the help of financial aid she wouldn't be able to attend BU. (Personally, I think the cost of college tuition is insane.)
Kris is looking forward to the Christmas Break and I am looking forward to having her underfoot for a couple of weeks. I'm sure someone will remind me of this comment when the first of January rolls around and I'm grumbling about the grocery bill! Laurrie and I have this running joke about having to dust off our pots and pans when the kids come home. Guess I'd better get my dust rag out.....
Kris takes her first college final tomorrow and will wrap up all finals next Tuesday. She is stressing about the Spanish final which is on Friday. I am proud of her for staying focused on her grades. She received a very prestigious four-year scholarship from a foundation based in the Hill Country upon her graduation from high school. BU also awarded her a merit scholarship and she knows that without the help of financial aid she wouldn't be able to attend BU. (Personally, I think the cost of college tuition is insane.)
Kris is looking forward to the Christmas Break and I am looking forward to having her underfoot for a couple of weeks. I'm sure someone will remind me of this comment when the first of January rolls around and I'm grumbling about the grocery bill! Laurrie and I have this running joke about having to dust off our pots and pans when the kids come home. Guess I'd better get my dust rag out.....
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Toilet Paper
In the Little Town, it is a tradition for kids to "raid" on Halloween. Raiding used to be limited to the weekend of Halloween but it now begins on October 1 and ends on October 31. Raiding takes place on any given night of the week with no holds barred. Even my mother has participated in the art of raiding and shared some of her stories with me on the way back from the football game last weekend. So, it is nothing unusual to see toilet paper streaming from trees and saran-wrapped mailboxes or even vehicles the day after Halloween. I accept this and have doled out and cleaned up more than my fair share of toilet paper- strewn trees and yards.
With Kris now at college, I figured my trees were safe from the follies of kids with toilet paper this year. Not so. You see, my daughter came home for a weekend visit in the middle of October. She spent some time with some of her friends earlier in the day who planned on going raiding later that evening. Kris bowed out gracefully and came home before the girls went on their quest for victims. The next morning I awoke to rolls and rolls and rolls and rolls of cheap Dollar Store toilet paper dangling from the pecan tree branches. (Of course the damn dogs didn't bark when that was going on.) Kris helped me clean it up and we got a good laugh out of it. For those of you not familiar with raiding, it is supposed to be a good thing to be attacked in such a manner. Something about being popular!?
A coach, his wife (who is also employed with the school) and their teenage daughter live on the southwest corner of my block. If they got raided once they got raided ten times during the month of October. Obviously they don't suffer from OCD like we do because that damn toilet paper is still flapping in the trees. Every time the south wind blows, I make several passes in and around my yard picking up pieces of toilet paper. It's a good thing we don't have a homeowners association because the retired folks on my street would have a field day.
Hell, guess which direction the wind is blowing from today!? sigh.
With Kris now at college, I figured my trees were safe from the follies of kids with toilet paper this year. Not so. You see, my daughter came home for a weekend visit in the middle of October. She spent some time with some of her friends earlier in the day who planned on going raiding later that evening. Kris bowed out gracefully and came home before the girls went on their quest for victims. The next morning I awoke to rolls and rolls and rolls and rolls of cheap Dollar Store toilet paper dangling from the pecan tree branches. (Of course the damn dogs didn't bark when that was going on.) Kris helped me clean it up and we got a good laugh out of it. For those of you not familiar with raiding, it is supposed to be a good thing to be attacked in such a manner. Something about being popular!?
A coach, his wife (who is also employed with the school) and their teenage daughter live on the southwest corner of my block. If they got raided once they got raided ten times during the month of October. Obviously they don't suffer from OCD like we do because that damn toilet paper is still flapping in the trees. Every time the south wind blows, I make several passes in and around my yard picking up pieces of toilet paper. It's a good thing we don't have a homeowners association because the retired folks on my street would have a field day.
Hell, guess which direction the wind is blowing from today!? sigh.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Barking Dogs
I'll admit it -- I like dogs but I'm more of a cat person. I had a little poodle dog that was my shadow for 15 years. As a matter of fact, the poodle dog was 5 years old when Kris came along. The poodle dog expressed her love of the new arrival by pooping in the baby's room. They became big pals through the years and had one of those "sister" relationships that only animal lovers can understand.
My neighbors have two dogs. A German shepard and a black lab. Cordelia likes to bark. No, let me rephrase that, she LOVES to bark. Oso, the lab, is so old that he has entered the blind and deaf stage of his life. But he'll bark on occasion because he's a dog and dogs are supposed to bark. Cordelia barks at EVERYTHING. The wind blows, she barks. The meter reader drives down the alley, she barks. The sprinkler system is activated, she barks. The deer snort, she barks. A mouse farts, she barks. You get the picture. She barks during the day and she barks throughout the night. My neighbor is immune to the barking but his wife isn't so she's on my side. It's been a sore subject since I've moved to the neighborhood. I mentioned it a couple of times to the owner but he's sensitive about his dogs. I'm not one to harp on things like this but when a barking dog keeps me awake at night it pisses me off. I was raised in the country and when a dog barks it's because he has something to warn you about. Rattlesnakes, for instance. Or a skunk or an armadillo == you know, something that usually requires a .22 bullet.
So, my neighbor now has the latest and greatest gadget from Petco (where the pets go!). I haven't seen the gadget but my neighbor's wife attempted to describe it to me. I don't care what it looks like so long as it works. Anyway, when the dogs bark the gadget is supposed to emit a high pitched noise that dogs don't like. (Akin to a dog whistle, maybe?) The gadget was installed yesterday. I've only heard a couple of short yips so I guess it's working. For now. Or at least until the gadget battery dies.
My neighbors have two dogs. A German shepard and a black lab. Cordelia likes to bark. No, let me rephrase that, she LOVES to bark. Oso, the lab, is so old that he has entered the blind and deaf stage of his life. But he'll bark on occasion because he's a dog and dogs are supposed to bark. Cordelia barks at EVERYTHING. The wind blows, she barks. The meter reader drives down the alley, she barks. The sprinkler system is activated, she barks. The deer snort, she barks. A mouse farts, she barks. You get the picture. She barks during the day and she barks throughout the night. My neighbor is immune to the barking but his wife isn't so she's on my side. It's been a sore subject since I've moved to the neighborhood. I mentioned it a couple of times to the owner but he's sensitive about his dogs. I'm not one to harp on things like this but when a barking dog keeps me awake at night it pisses me off. I was raised in the country and when a dog barks it's because he has something to warn you about. Rattlesnakes, for instance. Or a skunk or an armadillo == you know, something that usually requires a .22 bullet.
So, my neighbor now has the latest and greatest gadget from Petco (where the pets go!). I haven't seen the gadget but my neighbor's wife attempted to describe it to me. I don't care what it looks like so long as it works. Anyway, when the dogs bark the gadget is supposed to emit a high pitched noise that dogs don't like. (Akin to a dog whistle, maybe?) The gadget was installed yesterday. I've only heard a couple of short yips so I guess it's working. For now. Or at least until the gadget battery dies.
Twilight
During my last visit to the lovely city of Waco, my daughter and I planned to watch a movie at the theater. I haven't set foot in a movie theater in at least 10 years. I prefer to watch movies in the comfort of my own home for obvious reasons. This is the conversation that took place as we walked to the ticket booth:
"What movie do you want to watch, Mama?" asked Kris.
"Oh, I don't really care. What all is showing?" I replied.
"Hhmm, I've seen the previews of Twilight a couple of times." said Kris.
"Twilight? What is that about?" I asked.
"Oh, it's a vampire movie but it looks really good. " said Kris.
The new James Bond movie caught my attention but I could tell Kris really wanted to watch this Twilight movie that had something do to with vampires. So we purchased our tickets and hung out in the lobby until the usher allowed us into the showing room. After giggling for thirty or forty minutes about the condition of the chairs and doing our usual people-watching, the previews began. The new James Bond trailer flickered across the screen and Kris asked me why I didn't say anything about it while we were buying tickets. I told her it was fine and we'd stay right where we were. Besides, I wasn't keen on relocating to another show room anyway.
If you haven't watched "Twilight" you are in for a surprise. It isn't your average fangs and blood vampire movie. This one is a new twist on an old story --- vampire and human fall in love with each other, etc. And I'll be damned, I actually liked the movie! Kris and I both liked it so much that she downloaded the sound track from iTunes the next morning and ordered the Twilight Series by Stephanie Meyer from amazon.com. I am an avid reader and couldn't wait to read the books. The books arrived on November 25th and I physically shut down until I finished the fourth book on December 3rd. Well, I went to work and went through the motions of every day life but all my free time was spent reading those darn books. The books are geared towards the teen age generation but I thoroughly enjoyed the storyline.
By the way, Kris went to watch the movie AGAIN last Friday night.
"What movie do you want to watch, Mama?" asked Kris.
"Oh, I don't really care. What all is showing?" I replied.
"Hhmm, I've seen the previews of Twilight a couple of times." said Kris.
"Twilight? What is that about?" I asked.
"Oh, it's a vampire movie but it looks really good. " said Kris.
The new James Bond movie caught my attention but I could tell Kris really wanted to watch this Twilight movie that had something do to with vampires. So we purchased our tickets and hung out in the lobby until the usher allowed us into the showing room. After giggling for thirty or forty minutes about the condition of the chairs and doing our usual people-watching, the previews began. The new James Bond trailer flickered across the screen and Kris asked me why I didn't say anything about it while we were buying tickets. I told her it was fine and we'd stay right where we were. Besides, I wasn't keen on relocating to another show room anyway.
If you haven't watched "Twilight" you are in for a surprise. It isn't your average fangs and blood vampire movie. This one is a new twist on an old story --- vampire and human fall in love with each other, etc. And I'll be damned, I actually liked the movie! Kris and I both liked it so much that she downloaded the sound track from iTunes the next morning and ordered the Twilight Series by Stephanie Meyer from amazon.com. I am an avid reader and couldn't wait to read the books. The books arrived on November 25th and I physically shut down until I finished the fourth book on December 3rd. Well, I went to work and went through the motions of every day life but all my free time was spent reading those darn books. The books are geared towards the teen age generation but I thoroughly enjoyed the storyline.
By the way, Kris went to watch the movie AGAIN last Friday night.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
22 to 12
Our trip to Georgetown was uneventful which is always a good thing. I am not a good traveler and had already calculated an extra 30 minutes for my mother and youngest niece to stop a couple of times along the way. Marshall was rather quiet on the trip up; figured he was a little nervous since Andrew, a senior, is a part of the team. Kris drove from BU and met us at Burger King for lunch. One thing I noticed along our route is that it is dry, dry, dry everywhere!
The Junction Boys gave it their best shot against the Mart Panthers be we came up short with the final score 22 to 12. We had ourselves a helluva ballgame, though. When looking (or maybe I was spying?) around the stands I saw many current and former Little Town folks. I was blessed to be reunited with Sandra who I haven't seen in at least four years. (THANK YOU, RANA!) We picked up right where we left off and have made plans to get together during the Christmas holidays. It was too warm to wear our letter jackets but we did get a group shot after the game. Rana in her jacket full of patches; Molly in her pretty white jacket (she was a twirler, ya know), Andrea in her jacket which seemed to fit the best and me in my good' ol basketball letter jacket. I couldn't find Kris after the game so she missed out being in the picture. She was probably hugging the sweaty football players! (just kidding, klk!)
The boys had a great season and they have nothing to be ashamed of. The seniors were disappointed but held their heads high as our school song played for the last time this football season. Now we switch gears to basketball which is a language I can actually comprehend.
The Junction Boys gave it their best shot against the Mart Panthers be we came up short with the final score 22 to 12. We had ourselves a helluva ballgame, though. When looking (or maybe I was spying?) around the stands I saw many current and former Little Town folks. I was blessed to be reunited with Sandra who I haven't seen in at least four years. (THANK YOU, RANA!) We picked up right where we left off and have made plans to get together during the Christmas holidays. It was too warm to wear our letter jackets but we did get a group shot after the game. Rana in her jacket full of patches; Molly in her pretty white jacket (she was a twirler, ya know), Andrea in her jacket which seemed to fit the best and me in my good' ol basketball letter jacket. I couldn't find Kris after the game so she missed out being in the picture. She was probably hugging the sweaty football players! (just kidding, klk!)
The boys had a great season and they have nothing to be ashamed of. The seniors were disappointed but held their heads high as our school song played for the last time this football season. Now we switch gears to basketball which is a language I can actually comprehend.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Semi-Finals!
Today is the day the Eagles take on the Panthers! I attended the community pep rally last night with Laurrie. Our team received an Army Award and one of our boys received Dave Campbell's "Player of the Week" (details of both awards will be in the Weekly Wipe next week). I haven't attended a pep rally in over 25 years and let me tell you -- things have changed. Another story on another day.
I am riding to the game with my mother, brother and niece. I am just as excited about going to the game as I am to meet my friends and Kris in Georgetown. We are going to wear our letter jackets as a symbol of our Eagle Pride. It was Molly's idea and Rana K ran with it. Molly contacted KMBL and I sent an email to the Chamber of Commerce asking for a little free advertisement.
And the forecast shows to be absolutely perfect for an afternoon football game! GO EAGLES! BEAT THE SNOT OUTTA THE MART PANTHERS!
I am riding to the game with my mother, brother and niece. I am just as excited about going to the game as I am to meet my friends and Kris in Georgetown. We are going to wear our letter jackets as a symbol of our Eagle Pride. It was Molly's idea and Rana K ran with it. Molly contacted KMBL and I sent an email to the Chamber of Commerce asking for a little free advertisement.
And the forecast shows to be absolutely perfect for an afternoon football game! GO EAGLES! BEAT THE SNOT OUTTA THE MART PANTHERS!
Friday, December 5, 2008
19 Days and Counting...NOT!
The impending doom and gloom of Christmas shopping is upon us. Sam tells me that I am missing the "shopping gene" which sounds catastrophic to most people. I.Hate.To.Shop. No ifs, ands or buts about it. I don't even pretend to like to shop. Never have, never will. Sam can testify to this as well as Kris. I have been known to leave my grocery basket (with groceries in it) on Aisle Four at HEB and walk out of the store. Don't force my hand at shopping because I will shift into Mega-Bitch mode in a flash.
My mother would bring home school clothes for me after a full day of shopping in Kerrville or San Antonio. It didn't matter if the pants were quite long enough or if the sleeves covered my wrists. I was wearing those damn clothes no matter what because I was too hard-headed to go with her to try them on at the stores. The one thing she insisted that I try on were shoes.
Anyway, back to the Christmas shopping. I am grateful for online shopping because I can sit in the comfort of my own home wearing my warmups and fake-fur-lined house shoes. Speaking of which, there are still a few gifts on my list that I'd better get ordered. But for those of you who are brave enough to fight the crowds and stand in line for an hour and a half in the checkout line with your overflowing basket of goodies, I wish you the best. In the meantime, I'll be drinking my cold bottle of beer while filling up my virtual shopping cart at Amazon.com.....
My mother would bring home school clothes for me after a full day of shopping in Kerrville or San Antonio. It didn't matter if the pants were quite long enough or if the sleeves covered my wrists. I was wearing those damn clothes no matter what because I was too hard-headed to go with her to try them on at the stores. The one thing she insisted that I try on were shoes.
Anyway, back to the Christmas shopping. I am grateful for online shopping because I can sit in the comfort of my own home wearing my warmups and fake-fur-lined house shoes. Speaking of which, there are still a few gifts on my list that I'd better get ordered. But for those of you who are brave enough to fight the crowds and stand in line for an hour and a half in the checkout line with your overflowing basket of goodies, I wish you the best. In the meantime, I'll be drinking my cold bottle of beer while filling up my virtual shopping cart at Amazon.com.....
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Turning 40
Yesterday was my baby brother's 40th birthday. A flood of memories rush through my mind every year on his birthday because his arrival into my world is one of my most memorable memories. I was four years old and although I don't recall wishing for a sibling I thought it might be cool to have someone to boss around. (Me? Bossy? whatever.) DMH II was not what I expected when I envisioned a baby brother. Scrawny, wrinkled and oh, my -- what a cry baby! Mama said I was extremely protective of the little one and constantly checked on him to make sure he didn't need anything. I called him yesterday to wish him a happy day. I asked him, "Did I ever tell you that you were the best Christmas present I ever got?" He replied, "No. But what choice did you have?" Love you, baby brother!
The Little Town
It's not really my fault that this site has come about. RKW and SRJ both have wonderful blogs and I thoroughly enjoy reading them. Both are from "The Little Town" and since I still live here I thought it might entertaining to throw in my two cents from the place we started from. I am not a very good writer but will do the best I can so please overlook my grammatical errors and misspelled words. No promises on daily entries but bear with me. Pictures? Well, the camera is in a joint custody situation. SJJ bought a really nice Sony Something-or-Other as a Christmas present for MJ and me. I monopolized the camera during MJ's senior year activities and the same for KLK during her junior and senior years of high school. Both kids have since graduated so SJJ has claimed it to take pictures of hunters with their trophies at the J-Slave Ranch. (that's another story) RKW and/or SRJ will have to give me pointers to post pictures anyway.
The Little Town is booming right now with whitetail deer hunters. It is a boost to our local economy and I try my best not to cuss the city folks dressed in full camo when I can't find a decent parking spot at the grocery store. Said camo-clad folks swamp the feed stores and I haven't had a good visit with my dear friend, LA, since opening weekend in November. We're overdue for a toddy.
But what really has our town stepping in high gear is that our football team is playing in the 1A State Semi-Final game this weekend. I won't bore you with stats because to me its one way or the other -- WIN or LOSE. This is a first in the history of Little Town football and the community is hyped up -- big time! Wouldn't that be a helluva Christmas present? Bringing home the STATE CHAMPION TROPHY??
The Little Town is booming right now with whitetail deer hunters. It is a boost to our local economy and I try my best not to cuss the city folks dressed in full camo when I can't find a decent parking spot at the grocery store. Said camo-clad folks swamp the feed stores and I haven't had a good visit with my dear friend, LA, since opening weekend in November. We're overdue for a toddy.
But what really has our town stepping in high gear is that our football team is playing in the 1A State Semi-Final game this weekend. I won't bore you with stats because to me its one way or the other -- WIN or LOSE. This is a first in the history of Little Town football and the community is hyped up -- big time! Wouldn't that be a helluva Christmas present? Bringing home the STATE CHAMPION TROPHY??
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