Long Hollow

God, Grant Me The Serenity...

Through the window, I see my brother-in-law's SUV pull up in front of the house. Several younger men gather to help maneuver my mother down from her seat and into the waiting wheelchair.

For a moment exhaustion pinches her face from the three-hour road trip and constant struggle to breathe, but then I see that familiar smile bloom wide, right to the edge of joyful laughter, so contagious that everyone around her smiles, too.

She said she wouldn't miss her grandson's wedding, and by golly, she made it.

I sigh in relief. Maybe she didn't have doubts about her attendance, but I sure did. Eight months ago, for reasons that still haven't been clearly diagnosed, her muscle strength and balance disappeared. Walking was already a challenge because of her asthma, but now she couldn't even stand without support.

At first she fought it, believing she just needed to push herself to build up her strength. She accepted the wheelchair as a temporary accessory, but if you turned your back for a second, she would jump up and try to walk. Upon waking in the morning, she would automatically head down the long hallway, alone and unassisted, to the bathroom.

Consequently, she fell. A lot. I witnessed a few of the falls myself, including one in the middle of the night when she took my dad down on top of her in the bathroom (he tried to stop her fall) and we subsequently spent the night in the emergency room.

I'm not sure how many other falls there were. She and Daddy tried to keep them secret.

"Mama, stop trying to walk without help. You don't want to miss the wedding, do you?" 

She didn't. But it still took a few reminders before she started behaving and playing it safe, using the wheelchair to go down the hall and letting Daddy hover nearby when she needed to stand.

It's been a tough transition for all of us. Mama has always been the caregiver, so strong she makes the Steel Magnolias look like a bunch of wilting lilies. She's the Serenity Prayer and "where there's a will, there's a way" all rolled up in one, put into action. When something needed to be done, she just did it, without any whining or woe-is-me-ing. 

She spent sleepless nights nursing us through the usual and not-so-usual childhood illnesses and injuries...encephalitis, whooping cough, dislocated hips. Later, in her forties, Mama maneuvered my quadriplegic brother's six-foot-frame in and out of his wheelchair, despite her petite size. And just a few years ago, in her late 70's, she took care of my older sister following her hip surgery. 

 

Mama was with me to welcome my firstborn into the world, watched him while I worked and his dad went to school, and attended every special event of his life. There was no way in hell she'd miss his wedding, even if it meant relying on others for a change and accepting life in a wheelchair...at least for a little while. 

God, grant me the serenity...

 

In honor of Mother's Day, Generation Fabulous asked us to talk about that other fabulous generation - our mothers. Whether we like it or not, and whether we knew them or not, our mothers helped shape us into the women we are today. I realize I'm blessed with an amazing mother and the chance to know her through the eyes of an adult, and I'm happy I got to share a little bit about her with you. To read more mom stories, go HERE.

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Five Things

1.

What a week full of tragedy, heartbreak, and heroism. First the bombing in Boston and subsequent acts of unselfishness and goodness that proved only light can conquer darkness...and that there's plenty of light in Boston. We witnessed it in the behavior of all of its citizens.

Next, the explosion in West, Texas, so close to home, where even more were killed and injured than in Boston. I've driven through that little town on my way somewhere else so many times, stopping for kolaches or to let the kids get rid of energy. In a tiny rural community like that a tragedy like this touches every resident and my heart goes out to them.

Now the earthquake in China. The numbers keep growing of those whose heartbreak is broadcast to all of us via the media...which means we can all pray for them. A universal prayer chain. An image glowing with light in yet another moment of darkness.

 

2.

I love sending cards to friends, but often don't have them on hand or the time to run out and buy one. So I decided to create my own...from my photographs and favorite quotes. I posted them on FineArtAmerica.com and placed my order. It arrived this week in a great box. 

I'm sending this one to all of those affected in #1, as well as anyone else reading this who is suffering loss right now.

 

 

"Oh heart, if one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body, answer that the flower withers, but the seed remains."

~ Kahlil Gibran

 

3.

Without excusing their behavior, I feel those two young men who planted the Boston bombs were merely pawns played by some greater evil who is sitting back, laughing at how they held us hostage for awhile and probably planning their next move. I pray I've raised my kids to be strong enough not to fall for false flattery, that they may never be manipulated in that way. 

4.

Just home from work yesterday evening, wondering where to get started on things I needed to do, one glance out the kitchen window put everything else on hold. A hawk perched in a tree overlooking our big pond ("big" only in comparison to our "little" pond; it's just a wide spot in a mostly dry creek right now, but it does have water!) I popped the 70-300mm lens on my camera and snapped a few through the window. Then I snuck out the front door, tiptoed around the corner, and managed to snap a few more before he swooped down to the pond. 

"Do you mind?"

They aren't great photos - he was pretty far away - but they're good enough to help me remember and be grateful that I stepped out of "to-do's" and just enjoyed the moment and this beautiful, amazing world around us.

 

5.

We're winding down to the Big Wedding of my son and his beautiful bride-to-be. For a long time the wedding was a year away, and now suddenly it's almost here! How does that happen?

So please don't forget me if I continue to be AWOL from your blogs for awhile, and negligent of emails and Facebook posts. But as my mom pointed out, Tommy's wedding is one of those once-in-a-lifetime things. A time to forget about the world and to-do lists and worries about the future, and focus, instead, on love and family and today.

"Once in awhile, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale." 

 
--Anonymous 

Coach Christine, Queen of the Cosmos

We could hear her screaming from the other side of the soccer field, giving directions, shouting encouragement, and even growling disapproval at bad calls, voicing our own outrage so effectively we didn't have to. 

She was the epitome of a Mama Bear, fierce, loving, and protective of all of the girls on the Cosmos, TG's soccer team, equally. We were blessed to spend almost every weekend with her during soccer season for five years of our lives.

I knew her cancer wasn't responding to treatments. There was an open house a couple of weekends ago for friends to come and see her, but it was a long, tiring day at the winery and I decided I was too pooped and yucky to go that evening. 

Instead, I decided I would grab TG and we would pay Christine a quick visit one evening the next week. I knew she'd want to see TG more than me, anyway. But that week sped by, and the next, without "finding the time"...and now it's too late to see her again in person, give her a last hug, and tell her thank you in person.

Because Christine passed away on Monday.

My good intentions lie dried out, crumbled in a pile of ashes before me, so learn from my mistake and grab yours into a bouquet while they're fresh.  Carry them to the person you need to see again... the person you need to hug or kiss or say forgive me or thank you or whatever...because time doesn't bend to our convenience. It's on its own schedule and doesn't give a damn for ours.

Coach Christine was fierce, passionate, and all heart. I doubt her good intentions ever wilted even the teensiest bit.

I'm grateful she was a part of our lives, even though it was for a short time, and regretful that I didn't get to give her one last hug and thank you in person. She was an inspiration to me (and I'm sure to TG) and I'm better for knowing her.

 

Rest in peace, Coach...although I know you're really still there on the sidelines, pacing up and down, keeping an eye on those you love, giving support, encouragement, and protection. Your voice may have been silenced, but never your heart.

Five Things on (Good) Friday

1. Today is Good Friday, the day Christians around the world stop and consider the fact that an innocent person deliberately gave their life for them, out of love, even though they didn't ask him to and they did nothing to deserve it. Very sobering. 

But leave it to my friend Jim "Suldog" Sullivan to make me laugh about it. Go HERE to read his post about Good Friday.

2. I'm not sure how it happened, but earlier this week my computer and I somehow miscommunicated, resulting in a whole file of photos vanishing. I spent hours researching how to recover them, tried a few things with no luck, and finally spent $17 on a program called FileJuicer that managed to retrieve jpeg copies of my files.

I lamented the loss on Facebook, where a photographer friend/neighbor of mine told me he could retrieve the files from my card, even though I had already reformatted it. I tried not to get my hopes up, but hallelujah! he did it! All of the RAW photos were once again on my card, plus he gave me a copy of the program he used: Rescue Pro by Sandisk. And all it cost me was a 12-pack of Budweiser!

I call him Saint Bruce now. (Check out his beautiful photography at Bruce Coville Photography. The photo on the main page is the view of Lake Travis from his house.)

This is one of the files he saved. Every time I leave Houston I see this message and vow to capture it "next time". I finally remembered (eyes always on the road, don't worry!) and then promptly lost the file. Thanks again for rescuing it, Bruce!

3. My birthday is only a week and a day away. Last year my friends and family surprised me with the gorgeous iMac in front of me right now, telling me to use it to finish my book.

Well, I haven't, and I feel guilty.

4. Macy's put their Keurig coffeemakers on sale... almost half price, with a rebate! Since my old one kept bleeding all over my counter, I decided it was a sign I should get one. Happy birthday to me!

So far I'm loving it. I splurged and bought the little filter you can put your own coffee into. I drink way too much coffee to afford using those fancy k-cups all the time. They're only for company and emergencies!

5. I get to see 2/3 of my kids this weekend. 1/3 has tests next week and worried she wouldn't study if she came home. Sigh. But good decision. I guess.

Since half of the 2/3 is here already (plus my grandpuppy!) I'm finishing this up so I can go spend time with him. I hope you have a beautiful Easter weekend!

 

The outdoor Stations of the Cross at my church was finished enough for a group of us to make our way around this afternoon. Such a beautiful place. Easter blessings to all of you!

Labor(er)s of Love

I had fifteen minutes before my meeting started. A guest was going to be telling us about a project he had initiated. I wanted to get a look at it beforehand, so I arrived early - for once - and headed to the woods behind the church with my camera.

...At least, there used to be woods there, so thick with Juniper trees and underbrush you couldn't step foot beyond the children's playscape. But that evening last week I found a cedar-chip path lined with rocks winding through enough trees to provide shade and cast shadows as the sun drops.

 

 

This man had envisioned an outdoor Stations of the Cross and initially wanted to do all the work himself. When he found himself overwhelmed, other parishioners stepped forward to help with the clearing of trees and create the little creek to divert rainwater. 

Children in the parish had helped line the paths with rocks.

 

 

Others helped build this log fence.

 

 

And another man is stripping cedar logs and building crosses for each station. 

 

It's not finished yet, but already it's such a peaceful, reflective place to walk. What a gift this man has given to our parish and community!

But that's not all...

Along with his wife, he is starting a Family Ministry for our church, taking a survey to see what the needs are and finding speakers to come once a quarter on the different topics, such as divorce, loss of a child or spouse, problems with teenagers...leaving enough time in between speakers for the groups to continue to meet on their own and develop a support system. 

At our last meeting another couple spoke about their ministry...serving gourmet breakfast treats in between Masses. I'm talking Quiche Lorraine, folks, not glazed donuts or stale coffee cake! Our small activity center now overflows with people enjoying the treats and getting to know one another better. They call it "The Garden of Eatin'". Cute, huh?

I snapped this photo with my phone one Sunday. I think it explains why they go to all of this trouble every week...

 

 

Another woman in our parish, a member of my committee, heard about a Prayer Shawl ministry, so she recruited a bunch of knitters and in just a few weeks they already have over twenty shawls to pass out to those who are sick, grieving, or lonely. A warm hug and prayer they can hold. So thoughtful!

There was a period in my life when I had a meeting of some kind almost every night. Take three kids, multiply by at least three organizations/activities they're involved in from the time they start school until they graduate from high school, add several small town community and church organizations and board meetings, and you get the picture. I was addicted to volunteering. 

As my kids grew and flew the nest, I left behind one volunteer position after another until now all I have is this one committee where I get to hear about these people and their ministries.

They inspire me to think bigger and be more giving. I feel so blessed just to know them. 

Even though I realize my plate is too full right now trying to pay for all those years I only volunteered my time to consider biting off a large project, I'm keeping my heart open for other ways I can give back, even if it's in little bits and pieces. 

Unselfish and noble actions are the most radiant pages in the biography of souls. 

~David Thomas

What about you? Do you volunteer your time and talents anywhere in particular? 

Five Things on a Friday Night (when I should have been dancing)

 

 

1. My crape myrtles are budding! I'm really surprised because we haven't had much rain and the poor things haven't bloomed in two or three years now. I wasn't even sure they were still alive. I've got my fingers crossed they've somehow established themselves enough to give me some summer color later on.

2. I had a chance to go dancing with friends tonight. Instead, here I am editing photos and working on a blog post. Not that I don't love blogging, but...well, I love, love, love dancing!

So why am I blogging instead of dancing, you ask? Tom didn't want to go, and it was a bit of a drive...and I have to work tomorrow...so I was debating whether or not I should go. Trying to be a grown-up.

In the meantime, I went shopping for shoes to wear at my son's wedding. I should have gone prepared to meet my friends when I finished up, just in case, because shopping took longer than I expected (of course!) and by the time I got home, it was really too late to eat dinner, change clothes, and go back out.

Sigh and dang it.

Which just goes to show what I always tell my kids...if you don't make a decision, the decision is usually made for you. 

3. On Monday I had brunch with the sister and mother of a friend I've known since 2nd grade, Todd. They were traveling through a neighboring town and asked if I wanted to meet them. Of course!! 

 

That's me on the left. Beside me is Mrs. Scruggs - would you believe she's 81? She says 80 is the new 40. I love it! Across from us are Darlene and ... ah, I can't remember her husband's name!

(I'm sure my memory is directly affected by my lack of dancing lately!)

4. Jon Bon Jovi is coming to Austin in concert next month. For some reason, I wasn't that interested in him when I was younger and Bon Jovi first made it big. But now, I would love, love, love to see him, more than Eric Clapton or others who have been here recently. Love his music and his hair. Isn't that weird? Of course, I don't have money for tickets to see anyone. But if I did, now you know who I'd spend it to see!

5. In case you've been living in a closet with no access to a television, I'm please to inform you we have a new Pope! As a Catholic, I'm very hopeful about it. From all accounts, Pope Francis is a very humble, simple, but intelligent and courageous man.

I believe those are the qualities of a great leader of any institution, but especially for a church.

I hope you have a fantastic weekend. If you get the chance to do something you love, don't be wishy-washy and waste time trying to be practical like me - just go do it, for Pete's sake!

 

Linking up with

Make Good Art (Life)

Last night I stepped away from my computer before midnight for a change, set my alarm for 4:30 am, and before drifting off to sleep, asked God to remind me when it went off that I was excited about getting up so early because I would have time to write.

He did. And so, for the first time since the conference in February, I pulled out the critiques on my children's book, opened up the file, and began yet another revision in a silent house, well before the distraction of a husband stirring or a pink sunrise or a puppy's face hoping for a walk could distract me. 

I haven't given myself a deadline, other than to move forward every day, even if it's just to develop a character or backstory that no one will ever read.

On the wall of my office, right in my line of vision, is a placque, a gift from my friend Jill, that says "never, never, never give up" and on the other side is reminder from my friend Rae to "Find a passion and pursue it...never give up...do what you love...follow your dreams...make every moment count...be true to who you are..."

And who I am is a writer. Perhaps not the best, but I won't get better unless I write.

I even resisted glancing at my email this morning, because...

"There was a day when I looked up and realised that I had become someone who professionally replied to email, and who wrote as a hobby.  I started answering fewer emails, and was relieved to find I was writing much more."

Those are the words of writer Neil Gaiman from a commencement speech to a class of university art students in May of 2012. One of the women in my critique group sent the link of his speech to the rest of us.  

His words are aimed at artists, but since life itself is a form of art, I'm sharing it below with all of you, just in case I'm not the last person in the world to watch it. (That happens a lot!)

The speech is almost 20 minutes long, but every word is worth listening to. They were my wake-up call to re-focus on my book, but might be your wake-up call to re-focus on whatever gives meaning and satisfaction to your life. He has a lovely British accent, which makes it even better.

So turn it on, get up and stretch or do your nails or something while you listen. 

Okay, here's another little bit from it, if I haven't convinced you yet...

"Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do.

Make good art.

I'm serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it's all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn't matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art.

Make it on the good days too."

~Neil Gaiman

                 

Neil Gaiman Addresses the University of the Arts Class of 2012 from The University of the Arts (Phl) on Vimeo.

Five - ish Things on Friday

 

1. Today is my friend Debbie's birthday. I couldn't find the photo I wanted to post, the one of us dressed up like beauty queens, acting silly in her bedroom back in 1973. I've turned my house upside down and still can't find that photo anywhere! I used to be so organized...

That summer I was at Debbie's house more than my own. She lived right around the corner. We'd spend hours listening to her "Bread" album, watching and re-enacting "Ultraman" episodes, and talking on the phone to everyone we knew. Oh, those were the days.

Now forty years later, we're still friends. Even though there have been spaces in our friendship, this past year when my parents were having such a rough time, Debbie let me know she was there to pick up groceries or run them to the doctor or whatever they needed. Her mother volunteered, too. They both still live right around the corner. What peace of mind it gave me to know she was just a phone call from me and a few minutes from my parents. 

Friends like Debbie are such a blessing, so even though her card will be late (sigh) and I can't find that photo, I'm wishing her a beautiful birthday and a year full of her own blessings. She deserves them.

 

And I'll post this photo, probably taken at her birthday party forty years ago. That's her on the back row in the dark pink shirt. I'm the one with my chin in my hand.

I'm blessed to still be friends with almost all of those kids, and in my mind, that's still what they look like. 

 

2. I'm reading The Hunger Games series right now. It's a real page-turner...I'm already into the second book of the trilogy and that usually takes me months, not weeks. In fact, it's all I can do not to just blow off this post, settle on the couch, and read! 

But there's a see-saw love triangle that's driving me crazy. I'm sure there's a point, but it's making the story drag for me. Have you read it? Did you feel that way or is it just me?

 

 

3. I've been blogging for almost 5 years now! That's hard for me to believe. Along the way I've met so many fantastic writers and photographers, and made lasting friendships with people I've never even met in person. (Yes, that's possible!)

In general, bloggers are thoughtful, supportive, and generous, and I have two great examples: 

~Through a recent Valentine's Day Blog Hop, I met Vicki at LoNg OvErduE/BooK ReNewaL. She hosted a giveaway in honor of Valentine's Day and I actually won!  This beautiful Shappy Fabric pin she made from denim and silk arrived in my mail box early this week. (Did I mention most bloggers - except for me - are creative and talented, too?)

 

 

~Knowing I'm a wanna be drummer, my friend Bill ("A Few Clowns Short") sent me a link to a funny video: Mr. Bean playing the drums. It's hilarious!

~Thanks to another blogger/writer friend, Walker (A Woman's Page), I'm privileged to be a member of GenFab, a group "...for bloggers of a certain age looking for support, encouragement, information, blogging tips, and community." Many of these women have intimidating credentials and accomplishments, but on our Facebook page, we're all just "women of a certain age" who aren't finished yet, eager to help each other on our journeys. 

4. I watched two awesome movies this week, in the name of education. "A Man For All Seasons", about the struggle between Sir Thomas More and King Henry VIII which resulted in More's execution, won the 1966 Academy Award for Best Movie. It's so inspiring, learning about this man who stayed true to his conscience, even to death, and in these days of political corruption and rubbery conviction, I think it should be required viewing for all politicians.

The second movie was "Something the Lord Made", an HBO movie starring Mos Def and Alan Rickman about Vivien Thomas, a black man without a degree who partnered with a white doctor to invent bypass surgery, but didn't get credit for his work until years later. It's a very uplifting, inspiring movie as well. 

The students had to pay attention to characterization and conflict and all of that literary stuff while they watched, and even turn in a paper at the end, but I was pretty much able to just sit and enjoy the movies and get paid for it! I love being a substitute teacher!

5. Besides the funny drum video I mentioned in #3, two other friends (one of them a blogger!) sent me priceless videos this week. One will get its own post tomorrow, but I'll share the other here.

This will be me in thirty years, God willing. Be sure you watch it till the end. I dare you not to dance while you're watching! 

                                                

 

 So kids, the lesson for today is...

Don't stop dancing as long as the music is playing.

~me

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Linking up with

A Little Sister, a Shower, and a Salt Lick

I taught her how to drive a stick-shift - she caught on fast, much faster than my kids years later - and when her brother broke up with me, she wrote me poems to soothe my broken heart. She was barely a teenager back then, two years younger than me, and so in our split-high-school district, we never even attended the same school, so our lives went separate ways.

But score another one for Facebook! We recently reconnected. So when she came to Austin to visit her daughter this weekend, we made plans to meet up again for the first time in decades.

In a cool little restaurant within walking distance of her daughter's apartment (Fabi and Rosi) we sped through the years over wine and yummy food. The hours went way too fast. 

It meant missing a writing contest deadline and getting up at 5 a.m. yesterday morning to get my part of my future daughter-in-law's bridal shower ready, but it was totally worth it. Those are the moments that make life sweet!, and you have to grab them while you can.

Here are a few more sweet! moments from the past week...

 

 

Monday: writing before work; realizing you can still work geometry problems; a roaring wind on a sunny day; getting hooked by a good book

Tuesday: soft birdsong on your morning walk; a friend calling you with a job tip; your son's wedding invitation waiting for you in the mail; playing your drums after work

Wednesday: a puppy waiting patiently and hopefully outside the door for you to step outside and cuddle with her; devoting time to your book two days in a row; a long overdue hair cut and re-blonding; quick hugs from your daughter; remembering to pay some bills before they're late

 

 

Thursday: friends who make adorable favors for your future daughter-in-law's bridal shower; clearance racks; your husband still awake to help carry groceries into the house and help put them away at 10:30 pm

Friday: time to run before work; a refresher course in World Geography; starting the second book in the Hunger Games series, while getting paid; catching-up decades over dinner with an old boyfriend's little sister; experiencing another eclectic Austin restaurant

 

 

Saturday: a bridal shower for your future daughter-in-law; a Saturday night at the Salt Lick with your kids and great friends

 

 

Sunday: sleeping in and going to late Mass; the stories on CBS Sunday Morning

 

I don't watch much television, but CBS Sunday Morning is one show I try not to miss. This morning they featured the story of El Paso student Mitchell Marcus. Perhaps you've already heard it, but if you haven't, do yourself a favor and watch this video till the end. 

I hope you have a week filled with sweet! moments...and may we all be like this high school student and make life sweet! for someone else.

My Pencils are Sharp Enough

 

I slept a full eight hours last night. And I cleaned my bathroom this afternoon. Two things I haven't done in a long, long time. That's about all I've accomplished today, but I'm okay with it. It's my day off and I've relished it.

Middle son, Daniel, is home for the weekend, mostly because it was time for him to do laundry again, but I think he also enjoys the break from the city and helping his dad with projects around the house. 

He's picking up pizza right now. After we eat, he'll be heading back home. Well, to his other home. I feel I didn't get to see him very much on this visit. The weekends go by so fast when you only get one day off. But I'm grateful for all the days I've been able to work lately while waiting for that Perfect Job to show up and sweep me off my feet.

I've let my writing motivation slip a little - it seems to be proportional to the amount of free time I have. For some reason it takes me so long just to get started that unless I have a big chunk of time, I make no real progress. I just keep reinventing the wheel. I've got to learn to jump right in and get moving no matter how little time I have. 

As Ze Frank says below, I need to realize my pencils are sharp enough and just start writing.

 

 

 

Discovering Ze Frank on my friend Walker's blog was sweet! Here are a few other sweet! moments from the past week...

Monday: getting paid to watch wonderful National Geographic videos; a whiff of wild onions in the woods; 80 degree temps in February; discovering The Louise Log

Tuesday: a cardinal singing to you and posing for a few photos; your puppy's overflowing joy at your return from work; your mom's recent bloodwork and health screenings revealing no major issues

 

Wednesday: an email from a friend letting you know you received two Posts of the Week from Hilary at The Smitten Image; getting two Posts of the Week from Hilary!; the gift of rain in a drought

Thursday: seeing your future daughter-in-law in her wedding dress; visiting eclectic Austin shops with your daughter; not getting stuck in traffic; crying over mother/son dance songs and finally finding the perfect one

Friday: that first sip of coffee in the morning; discovering someone you've known for a long time attended your elementary school at the same time you did; an afternoon walk with your goofy puppies; plump robins; working on your book

Saturday: fitting in a work-out before, um, work; warm February afternoons; hamburgers fresh off the grill; a sweet love story movie with your husband and son, instead of the usual shoot-em-up; another episode of old Dark Shadows with your son

Sunday: eight hours of sleep; coffee on the back porch; visiting with friends after church; a clean bathroom; veggie pizza

 

What were some of your sweet! moments this week?

I'm planning on watching the Academy Awards tonight. Are you? 

I haven't watched them in years, but tonight I'm going to settle on the couch with some popcorn and see all the good movies I've missed. I'm rooting for Silver Linings Playbook, but that's because it's the only one I've seen. Who/what are you rooting for?

Even if your favorite movie doesn't win, I hope you have a week overflowing in sweet!

 

The Artist

 

I stand mesmerized, watching him consider the next space before choosing a rock from a collection he's gathered over, not just months, but years. That's how long the vision has been in his mind.

To me, the rock he chooses looks like a perfect fit, but his eyes see more than mine can. He oh-so-gently taps and chips at it until it truly is a perfect match. I can see that now. No mortar or concrete will be required to hold it in place. Only sand. And it will last forever. 

 

Before laying it in place, though, he carefully prepares its space with a small shovel and rake, using two levels to get it just the right angle and depth with the surrounding stones. Finally, he fills the gap between the new and old with sand. 

Then he moves on to the next space and starts all over.

This is my husband's latest project, creating a beautiful oasis near a little pond that was tucked away so deep in juniper trees and undergrowth when we first stepped foot in Long Hollow that we didn't even know it was there. That's hard to imagine now.

It's my favorite place in the whole world, especially when the waterfalls are flowing.

He works on it every bit of spare time he has between his job and working on our old cars. If I worked on my books so diligently, I'd be on my tenth by now.

He's a true artist, getting a vision in his mind that gnaws at him until he sees it through. I admire his focus, his drive, his attention to detail.

Every creator painfully experiences the chasm between his inner vision and its ultimate expression. 

~Isaac Bashevis Singer

 

 

a Celtic cross inlaid in the front walkway

 

cedar sprigs imprinted on our front doorstep

 

He never says "That's good enough." His perfectionism in general can drive me crazy, but when it's channeled into the right areas, it blows me away...and inspires me to raise my own neglected artist within to a higher standard. 

Art is when you hear a knocking from your soul — and you answer.

~Terri Guillemets

 

****************************************

 

Thank you, Hilary!

 

Surprise! and other sweet!s

 

I can't believe it.

I surprised my friend Darla with a Diva gathering in her honor at my house this past weekend. Ten women who graduated from high school with us piled into my house for a slumber party, one even driving from Louisiana to be here. Many more who couldn't attend still donated money for a Williams-Sonoma gift card.

It feels good to pay her back, even if it was just a drop in the bucket;  she has been a huge cheerleader for my writing and photography for years and has given me so many sweet birthday surprises I can't even count them anymore.

Her husband was in on it, of course, along with about 50 high school girlfriends who have been private-messaging about it for months. Considering that, it is truly amazing she didn't catch on, isn't it? (If she did, she needs to consider a career move to the stage!)

There were tons of tiny sweet!s while they were here, but I'm not going to share them all because...

 

 

 

Hehehe.

That little plate was a hostess gift from of those dear friends, along with the Diva wine coozie above and this cork holder below. Sweet!

 

And now for more sweet!s of the past week...

 

Tuesday: rain tap-dancing on my umbrella; finally completely cleaning out and organizing your old roll top desk after thinking about it for five years; finishing up an editing job for a recent photo shoot; the gratitude of outside puppies who are allowed inside on a stormy day; hanging out at home all day with your baby girl

Wednesday: a second day of rain during a long drought; working in a high school library with a view of the mist-covered hills; watching new episodes of Modern Family with your daughter

 

Thursday: a second day in the high school library but with a view of sunny skies; student dioramas of The Hobbit; plotting a surprise party for a dear friend

Friday: a day of errands with your daughter, even if it's just getting her flu shot, stopping at Chick-Fil-A, and grocery shopping; your daughter's help getting your house ready for guests

Saturday: your baby girl's smile lingering in your heart after you drop her back off at college; laughing in the kitchen with forever friends; pulling off a surprise birthday party for a dear friend; hostess gifts; pineapple martinis and mini-Monte Cristo sandwiches; a husband who will drop what he's doing to take a photo of you and your girlfriends; slumber parties, at any age

 

Sunday: hanging out in your pajamas for hours, yakking with girlfriends; chilling on a rock with your dogs and camera in the middle of the woods on a crisp winter day; writing groups; not getting upset when the edits to your blog post disappear, meaning you'll have to start all over

Monday: a glimpse of the Great Blue Heron just after dawn; working with special needs kids all day; a call from your sister and text from a friend; the fire in the wood-burning stove starting easily 

 

Despite the sweet! moments of my past week, there were some tough ones, too. Our community lost two awesome people in unrelated incidents. I considered both of them friends, but so did almost everyone else around here. I'm really, really going to miss their faces and still have a hard time believing they have passed from this world.

Rest in peace, Mary and Frank.

 

Why I Love "The Hobbit"

 

 

He was five, snuggled up close beside me on the loveseat for our ritual bedtime story, sucking his thumb.

"Are you sure?" I asked him. "There aren't any pictures in this book. Just a lot of words."

He nodded, so I opened the worn paperback and began reading...

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit."

Every night I'd quiz him on what we had read the time before, worried he was too young to understand, but he always knew every answer and wanted to continue.  Middle Earth had come alive for him, so night after night, chapter by chapter, we journeyed through it together. 

It was my second, maybe third, visit. My brother had introduced me to Tolkien and his hobbits almost two decades earlier and I became obsessed, buying ceramic statues of Bilbo and Gandalf, pewter wizards, and tiny castles. I had dragon bookends and calendars depicting beautiful Middle Earth-inspired artwork. I embraced my nerdiness.

It was the artwork that hooked my young son. He wanted to learn more about that beautiful, adventurous world.

I traveled there again with my younger two, and many years later we watched the Lord of the Rings movies together. So when I heard about The Hobbit movie, I crossed my fingers they would all agree to see it with me, once again journeying together into Middle Earth.

And they did. This past Sunday evening, my Christmas wish came true.

 

 

But sitting in that theater I got much more than my Christmas wish. Watching the movie, I was reminded of why I became a Tolkien nerd so many years ago and still want to share it with my kids.

There's the obvious...the adventure, the magic, the intricate world he draws us into. His genius still amazes me.

There's the theme of good versus evil...with good victorious, of course. And the characters, who forge friendships by focusing on commonalities rather than differences, a great lesson for all of us.

There's Bilbo's story itself, how he ventures out of his comfort zone and discovers strengths he never knew he possessed. Now I can identify with Bilbo even more. Like me, he is middle-aged, settled, comfortable, and doesn't believe there is anything special about himself ... but he sets out on an adventure anyway.

He sticks with it even when others doubt him, determined to help the dwarves even though he doesn't really know them. Compassion is the key to his bravery and loyalty. As Gandalf says...

  “I found it is the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk, that keeps the darkness at bay. Simple acts of kindness and love.” 

When you boil it all down, the elves and the magic and the battles between good and evil, that single message is what you're left with. It's the reason I love The Hobbit, and why I wanted my kids to know it and love it, too. Because even the smallest of us, the seemingly least remarkable, is capable of kindness and love to one another. And I do believe that is the greatest power of all.

 

 

 

Who can resist purr-ty faces like these?

 

A blogger friend of mine named Joan can't, and when she offered these cards for sale to support the work she does with strays in Greece, I couldn't resist them, either. The purr-ty faces you see are just a few of the cats whose lives she has made better in some way.

Read about them and her work at God's Little People. You can also find out how to get your own purr-ty face cards there. (They would make great Christmas presents!)

P.S. I'm not compensated in any way by plugging Joan's cards except for the good feeling I get in spreading the word about the work she does. And the cards are truly beautiful!

When You Know They're All Grown Up

 

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, 
and He bends you with His might 
that His arrows may go swift and far.

~Kahlil Gibran

 

Several weeks ago I was nearing the end of my rope...more frustrated, worried, hurt, and angry than I've been in a long, long time because others I thought I could depend on proved unreliable.

My son Tommy stepped forward without being asked, driving from San Antonio to Houston in the middle of moving to a new apartment and wedding plans and a new job to take over the care of his grandmama so I could run home two days for an important job of my own. He handled it all with ease, even making calls to doctors to coordinate Daddy's discharge.

This mother's heart inside of me overflowed with relief, pride, and gratitude. I know he was motivated out of love for them as much as a desire to help me, but that makes me even more proud and grateful. 

Degrees and jobs are great, but the proof of adulthood is an honorable, dependable, giving-back heart, and I knew without a doubt that what I had worked for, hoped for, prayed for, all of his life had come true: my smart, sensitive, loving little boy had grown into a man without losing any of those qualities, despite this harsh, materialistic, self-serving world we live in.

Happy 27th birthday, Tommy. Today my heart is still overflowing with gratitude to you for coming to my rescue and to God for blessing me - trusting me - with motherhood, beginning with you. May your coming year overflow with love and blessings and wishes come true!

 

Sweet Relief

I almost didn't publish this post.

Late this afternoon my sister called me at work to let me know Daddy was heading to the hospital via ambulance again. Another suspected stroke. Even if I had the time to post my collected sweet!s of the week, it just didn't seem right when I had such a heavy heart.

I made plans to leave for Houston early in the morning... and then Brenda called again with news I hadn't even dared to hope for: Daddy had checked out just fine and was on his way back home. Hallelujah! Talk about answered prayers!

I gave Mama and Daddy time to get home and settled before calling them. Hearing Daddy's voice on the other line was the sweetest sound ever.

So now I'll share what I had thought was the biggest sweet! of the week... 

I went dancing last night!

It was our annual church Adult Christmas party where we're one of the youngest couples, there's enough space on the dance floor that we're not getting bumped and elbowed all the time, and there's a group of ladies who love to dance as much as I do, so poor Tom is off the hook. (One of them, a spitfire in her 70's, did a full body shimmy to Proud Mary that would rival Tina Turner's! I have so much to learn!)

I also wanted to share a great quote I came across earlier this week...

Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

I can't help but believe Longfellow wrote it with me and my writing in mind.

And now for a few more sweet! moments I collected this past week...

 

Saturday: watching Princess Bride for the one zillionth time with your kids

Sunday: a Sunday spent at home, not out of town or at work; sleeping in and going to late Mass for the first time in months; finally having time to dust and vacuum your filthy house; your kids hauling your boxes of Christmas decorations upstairs for you before they head back to their own places; a call from a dear friend

 

 

Monday: getting paid to hang out in a library all day; finishing up a project (well, almost); dredging up the willpower to work out after work; an email asking about using one of your photographs in a newsletter

Tuesday: seeing deer dash in front of you on your morning walk; your old puppy running after the deer; finally making it to a doctor after rescheduling twice; getting your flu shot; helping your daughter shop for a tacky sweater in an eclectic resale shop; finding an authentic Scottish wool kilt for only $10 in the same shop; joining your husband and most of your kids for happy hour at Double Dave's; grocery shopping with your daughter

 

 

Wednesday: moonlight splashing in your kitchen when you first get up;  watching the moon set on the horizon on a chilly morning; the shimmer of frost; finally shushing the negative voices in your head and making progress on your book; dreaming about winning the lottery

Thursday: morning walks three days in a row; getting started on your book easier; helping your parents get the paperwork together to dispute the penalty for filing for Medicare Pard D "late" (why is there even a penalty??); saying to heck with to-do lists and deadlines and meeting friends for dinner

Friday: working on your book before heading to work; helping four-year-olds pick out books for their Book Fair wish list; hugs from four-year-olds; a check for one of your photographs waiting for you in the mailbox; a husband who doesn't make fun of you for crying in a movie about aging dogs

Saturday: french toast, a la Tom; time for a morning walk before work; slow dancing with your husband; teaching others how to do the Cotton-Eyed-Joe 

Sunday: sunlight through stained glass; talking photography with customers; answered prayers; your daddy's voice; Christmas lights on your tree, thanks to your husband

 

I hope you are remembering to keep track of, and give thanks for, your sweet! moments!

Taking a quick break to share this with you...

I'm writing. For the second day in a row!

Actually making a little progress, too, once I managed to ignore the voices inside my head who kept telling me to give it up, just quit, that it wasn't any good.

After staring at the screen and out the window and at the screen again, I finally said "Who cares?" and started typing. 

(Those first words after a few days away from my book are always the toughest. I need to stop staying away for days at a time.)

As if the voices weren't distraction enough, for some reason, I keep finding myself scrolling around on Facebook, but it's not toally a bad thing, because I came across the video below that a friend posted. (Thank you, Gina!)

It made me laugh so hard I just had to share it here with you. Ah, the memories.

And now back to my book...

(No, really. I mean it!)

(Well, maybe I'll watch it one more time.)

 

 

Transitions

My Uncle Bobby passed away this week. Daddy's younger brother.

Like Daddy and the other men in his family, Uncle Bobby had suffered from heart and vascular problems for years, but it was a slow battle with cancer that took him away. He was a sweet man. In my heart I will always see him smiling, ready to laugh about something. 

That's him in the photo below, wearing my sister's wig, flanked by his son, Jeff, and yours truly, the Tomboy in ripped jeans. 

 

I'm grateful that I got to speak to Uncle Bobby a few times recently and assure him of my love and prayers. He called often to check on Daddy after his surgery. I'm glad they got to speak to each other, too.

Jeff stopped by my parents' house on my mom's birthday with a satchel full of old photo albums he'd found at his parents' house that had belonged to our aunt and grandmother. We opened them and stepped back into the years when we were oblivious to time.

When you're young, you can't imagine standing where your parents stand. You never dream that someday you'll be one of those pillars holding up the family, trying to help make decisions about things you had been happily oblivious to just months before.

 

 

Now time is tick, tick, ticking in my head. I feel the weight of it on my shoulders. I see, more than I ever did when I first became a mother, that circle of life, and I know that one day my kids will be taking my place as the pillars. 

But I remind myself that, if my kids are as blessed with oblivion as I have been, that time is still years away, and that I need to live each of these days, these years, to the fullest, just as my parents still do, to the best of their abilities.

I can't let the tick-ticking or the weight on my shoulders keep me from noticing blessings like cool old red trucks on display along the highway...

 

I pass Timeless Texas Classics on my way to and from Houston. Usually I travel too early or too late, and it's locked up. The old cars are tucked safely to bed up near the building.

But this past Wednesday the gate was open and these beauties were lined up close to the road. They smiled and waved at me, but I drove on by, in a hurry and too caught up in all I needed to do once I got home.

Then I realized the gift of the moment and made a U-turn. I spent several minutes walking up and down, snapping their photos, relishing that bit of suspended time.

Old cars and trucks make me smile - especially old trucks painted cherry red like the beauty above. And when you're a pillar - no, especially when you're a pillar - you need to do things that make you smile.

 

It really made me smile to hang out with a bunch of twenty-somethings that same night in honor of my soon-to-be daughter-in-law's 25th birthday. 

 

 

 

It was a little over six years ago when Tommy went to a friend's cousin's high school graduation party and fell in love. It's hard to believe Kirby was just eighteen when we first met her (and fell in love with her, too.)  

I love that all of my kids are living in Austin now, close enough to wish them happy birthdays in person.

 

Despite the challenges of the past few months, I'm still loving this season of my life.

I haven't been dancing as much as I'd like, but I can still dance. I can still walk down my dirt road and climb hills with my sweetie and puppies. I can hop in the car and meet friends for dinner... when we have time.

Time is the biggest challenge.

I haven't had time to finish my photography website or post new samples to sites where I can sell my photos or a dozen other things I need to do for my business, but this afternoon I get to photograph a beautiful family for the second year in a row. Last year the weather didn't cooperate and we had to take a few shots inside, so this year I'm going prepared with lights I borrowed from a friend, and I've been brushing up on how-to's of indoor portraits. Just in case.

I can still learn.

I'm also preparing for my writer's group meeting tomorrow evening. Thursday I was gloriously stranded at home alone for hours because Tom's car is out of commission and he needed mine to get to work so I spent them working on my children's book. Despite all that time, I barely eked out one short chapter, but I also overhauled my outline and fine tuned previous chapters, things I couldn't have done without several undistracted hours.

The next few chapters should come easier, and that's good, because I'm holding on to my goal of finishing my book by December 19, so I can submit it for critique before February's conference.

 

I hope whatever season of life you're in right now, you live it to its fullest. Let's make a pact not to waste a single moment of this sacred time we've been given... and especially the time we have with our loved ones.

 

 

Nothing in the world is permanent, and we're foolish when we ask anything to last, but surely we're still more foolish not to take delight in it while we have it.

~ W. Somerset Maugham

 

Lesson #81 (Thank You, and Happy Birthday, Mama!)

Today is Mama's 81st birthday. I get to spend the whole day with her, and for that I am very, very grateful.

A few years ago, in honor of her 77th birthday, I started compiling a list of things she has taught me. Each year since then, on her birthday, I've added to it. 

I wish this year the lessons weren't so plain.

The past few months haven't been easy on her. Her legs went on strike and she spends most of her time in a wheelchair now.

After being so independent and active all of her life (chin-up champion of her elementary school, softball player, bowler, pregnant roof-climber when her 5-year-old son wouldn't come down, main caregiver of her 6-foot-tall adult quadriplegic son, square- and line-dancer, playmate of her grandkids) and being the one all of us depended on, physically and mentally, I can only imagine how frustrating it has to be for her now, unable to do even the simplest things without someone's help.

But, as usual, she's got a great attitude about it. She laughs more than she complains. She expresses appreciation for the help even as I'm sure, inside, she mourns her independence. And she still focuses on others more than herself.

This year my mother is teaching me grace.

(with a few of her grandkids at Daddy's birthday party last month.)

 Happy birthday, Mama, with much love and gratitude!

 

Things Mama has taught me...

1. it's never too late to learn something new
2. if you have a choice between laughter and tears, choose laughter.
3. don't let anyone mess with your babies!
4. only give advice when asked for it (I'm still working on that one)
5. pray every day
6. pray some more
7. reading a good book might not solve your problems, but it's a nice escape from them
8. bend but never break
9. some people are just takers
10. be nice whenever possible, but sometimes nice doesn't cut it
11. take care of family
12. we're all individuals - let your kids blossom into themselves, not "mini-me's"
13. be there
14. Johnny Weismuller is the best movie Tarzan
15. don't be in a rush to be older than you are - you're only going to be this age once in your life
16. if you like something, and you'll use it, and you can afford it, then buy it, or you'll regret it later
17. quality over quantity
18. never think "can't"
19. people will stand in line for a dead skunk if it's free
20. roll with the punches
21. have fun
22. laugh often
23. believe in yourself
24. don't let others change who you are
25. be honest
26. don't steal
27. forgive yourself
28. God loves me
29. don't judge
30. just do it!
31. inside matters more than outside
32. don't use God's name in vain
33. you can learn anything if you put your mind to it
34. you're never too old to dance
35. it's okay to ask for help
36. show appreciation and express gratitude
37. use my manners
38. consider the source
39. an office or position of authority should be respected, but the individual in that position has to earn your respect
40. sleep is good
41. take advantage of opportunities
42. keep your eyes open and your wits about you
43. people aren't always nice
44. things can't make you happy
45. use your imagination
46. just get started and the rest will be easy
47. don't be intimidated by anyone - we're all the same, all human, we all have strengths and weaknesses
48. you can love someone even if you don't like them
49. forgive but don't forget
50. learn from others' mistakes
51. there are times for being patient, and time for putting your foot down
52. speak up
53. stand up for what you believe in
54. admit your mistakes and expect others to do the same
55. persistance pays off
56. let your kids be kids
57. love unconditionally
58. take lots of pictures
59. kids grow up fast
60. your kids need a mother, not another friend
61. pets are family
62. help others
63. a sense of humor is essential for sanity and survival
64. if you look close enough, you can find something to love about everyone
65. coffee is good anytime
66. messes can be cleaned up
67. prayer works
68. God is strong all the time - let him carry you
69. if you say you're going to do something, do it
70. be nice to yourself in case no one else is
71. you have to show respect to get respect
72. girls are tough
73. don't put up with temper tantrums
74. listen to your body - doctors don't know everything
75. don't say everything you're thinking
76. asking questions is the best way to learn something
77. your babies are always your babies (and their babies are your babies, too!)
78. God is. 
79. Just listen. 
80. people are more important than things
    
81. there is a time to help others, and a time to let others help you

 

An Inadequate - but Sincere - Thank You to Veterans

"Lord, if your people need me, I will not refuse the work. Your will be done."

~St. Martin of Tours

 

 

My big brother Buster was headed to Viet Nam, saying his goodbyes, when I stood beside him in this photograph and smiled. I had no idea what was ahead of him. This was probably taken before his first tour of duty and so he had only a vague idea himself what to expect.

When he volunteered for his second tour, however, he knew full well what he was stepping into...but he did it anyway. 

 

 

My dad was in high school when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. He joined the Navy soon after high school graduation because his country was at war and "it was the thing to do." In the next twenty-two months he traveled a long way from Texas aboard the U.S.S. Geneva...to places like the Philippines, the Marshall Islands, China, Burma, Japan.

Before he turned twenty, he had seen cities that had been destroyed by war and piles of dead bodies waiting to be buried. 

A few years later, his little brother Bobby followed his lead and joined the Navy, and many years later, so did my brother Donnie and two nephews.

 

Pop, my wonderful father-in-law, missed out on World War II, but joined the Air Force in time for the Korean War. He worked base supply in Okinawa, supporting bombers flying missions to Korea...about 100 aircraft every day.

He re-enlisted, got married, and hopped around the globe...living in England, Germany, and over a year in Pakistan, separated from his family (the other heroes - Mom had 8 teenage and younger boys to deal with by herself!)...visiting a dozen other countries...eventually staying put for awhile in Maryland, working with NSA (and a second job at the bowling alley to make ends meet), until his retirement.

A lifetime of service and sacrifice for this country.

 

 

My husband Tom was raised in a military family. For him it was normal to move every few years to someplace completely different...by the time he was eight or nine years old, he had lived in three countries!

He grew up on a tight budget - hand-me-downs, powdered milk and only two cookies a day...period! And yet as soon as he could, he joined the service...the Coast Guard. Among other things, he helped rescue fisherman off the coast of Alaska.

Four of his brothers also joined the service (three career Air Force, just like their dad, and another Coast Guard) and the youngest joined the Army Reserves. Now the next generation is following in their footsteps: two Air Force and one Coast Guard...and even marrying other service members!

I think it's very fitting that Veterans Day shares November with Thanksgiving, a day when we slow down to remember and be grateful for things that we usually take for granted, because veterans, despite the sacrifices they make for all of us, probably don't even make it onto our Thanksgiving thank-you list.

That's how much most of us take them for granted - as well as the freedoms they protect for us. Even when our country isn't at war, they go where they are needed to unfamiliar places, away from extended family, often living on a minimum salary. To many, they are a symbol of war, not peace, and sadly become targets of derision, scorn, blame... and even violence, like the sad incident at Ft. Hood a few years ago.

They deserve to be thanked every day of the year. A friend of mine says that when he's in a restaurant and sees a man or woman in uniform, he secretly pays their bill. What a wonderful idea! I think more of us should go out of our way every day to show our appreciation, but I'm glad there is at least one special day where we shine a spotlight on them, remember their sacrifices and make clear our gratitude.

Thank you Daddy, Tom, Pop, Buster, Donnie, Uncle Bobby, Uncle Howard, Kenny, Steve, Joe, Robbie, John, Sheila, Michael, Tom, Lynn, Robbin, Evan...and all of the other Veterans, past and present, out there! Because of you, we're free to go about our daily lives, without a thought in the world to how much that freedom costs or how much you've given.

But let's hope we do remember the price, as well as those who, through their actions, say "Don't worry. I got this."

(If this sounds familiar, it's a re-post from last year and the year before and the year before, with just a few tweeks.)

What would I do...?

 

As she has for more than ten years, my sister joined me and my girlfriends at the beach this past weekend.

From my earliest memory, Brenda has been my closest friend, and, along with my mother, my role model and inspiration.  Despite the eight years between us and my bratty personality, when I was little she often let me tag along with her. She drove me and my friends places, and as I got older, was there whenever I needed support or just someone to laugh or cry with.

When we were younger, we spent lots of time together (she was the best big sister ever!) but eventually husbands, kids, and my move to another town made it difficult to have more than brief visits. So I really looked forward to these annual trips to the coast and long hours to relax together.

However, this year I was torn. Brenda's Parkinson's disease hasn't been an issue, but a hip injury isn't healing as well as we hoped and, as much as I wanted to see her, I worried the trip would aggravate the injury, that she would overdo it between sitting in a vehicle for hours and walking too much, even with her cane or walker. She had taken several trips the past year and always seemed to have a setback and be in pain afterwards. 

On her part, she worried she would be a burden on everyone, that her mobility issues would prevent her from doing any cooking or cleaning.

That's when my friends proved they've embraced her as their sister, too...

"Does anyone think this woman would be a burden?  Should I just go get her & force her into my vehicle? Is there a rule that she HAS to shop or cook?  Wouldn't we all take care of each other?  Brenda.....PLEEEZ come with me!"

"Absolutely no rule that says she has to do a thing, Brenda we need you there. there are plently of us to take care of the grocery stop, the preparing of food. You just come relax."

And Mary Kay pointed out that she needed someone to stay and watch movies with her while the rest of us went dancing.

So once again, Brenda joined us in Port A, and I'll be eternally grateful to those wonderful friends who helped soothe her fears and mine so I could have another great weekend with my big sister. 

Although she's always looked forward to taking that drive alone, this year Brenda hitched a ride with Patti, my sweet Deer Park Diva friend who joined us this year. And everyone stepped up to help her with whatever she needed, whether it was a drink, a steady hand, or just company.

Brenda has always been independent, always been the one to step up and help others, never worried about what anyone thought about her. She's stubborn and doesn't take crap off of anyone, but no matter what hurdle or trial she faced, her Pollyanna spirit shone through and helped her find a bright side. 

So I know it was tough for her to admit her limitations, but even tougher to ask for help. To accept that help. But as usual, she faced that fear. By voicing it, she zapped it of its strength and found a way around it. And I'm glad.

What would I do if I were not afraid?

~ Martha E. Manglesdorf

 

I thought of Brenda when I read that quote yesterday, then I asked...What am I afraid of? What am I letting fear keep me from doing?

In the past, the fear of failure kept me from trying new things. While I'm no longer afraid of rejection slips, they still make me wince.

Too often I've let the fear of other people's opinions guide my steps instead of being true to myself and having faith in my own opinions. I've been afraid of speaking in public or standing in front of large crowds. (It kept me from taking part in my senior class play.) Now it doesn't bother me. Much.

Fear for my kids - for their health, happiness, work... heck, their very souls -  hovers in the recesses of my heart, but I'm much better about turning that fear over to God and trusting Him to take care of it and show me how to help. I've found handing fears over to God is a great way to get rid of them.

A little harder to let go of is my fear of sinking deeper into debt. It's that fear - and the fear of Tom keeling over from the stress of it - that keeps me from diving headfirst into my writing and photography, buying equipment and books and attending all the conferences and courses that are "recommended".

But I've torn free from it enough to keep moving forward with those dreams, finding my way along the old, slower (free!) highways instead of the faster tollways. 

So... what would you do if you weren't afraid? 

 

My beautiful sister and our beautiful friends. To read more about how awesome my sister is, click HERE and HERE.

Reunion, Part 1 (and back to reality with a thud)

 

"Are you someone's grandmother?" he asked as soon as I walked into the classroom. I had to have him repeat it before I understood. My hearing isn't so great anymore plus he was missing his two front teeth!

"No, I'm your substitute teacher." I could feel the air fizzling out of my bubble...the 1977 fantasy world I'd been living in the past few days,where I'm perpetually 18.

High school reunions, surrounded by classmates and memories, can do that to you.

And all it takes is one little toothless cutie pie to send you crashing back to menopausal reality. Thanks a lot, kid.

I've been hanging out with second-graders the past two days, and before that, I was hanging out with a 50+ crowd who mostly behaved like teenagers. No better way to stay feeling young - even if the second graders like to remind you you're old enough to be their grandmother!

My high school reunion was a blast - at least in my opinion, and as far as I could tell, everyone else agreed with me. There weren't a lot of us, but we had enough fun to want to do it again soon. To heck with waiting every five years.

A few of us started it Friday night with a tour of our old high school. OMG! It was huge when we went there, but it's doubled in size since then. There's actually a branch of a credit union in the lunchroom, a coffee shop (run by students, I believe), a police department, and a culinary arts program with its own chef. Street signs mark hallways - I would surely get lost without them!

After the tour, a bunch of us watched the first half of the homecoming football game. The Fighting Deer were winning when we left, right after the new Homecoming Queen was crowned. As a former HQ, I felt obligated to stay at least that long before heading off to the big Pre-Reunion Party at my friend Rae's house.

Bless their hearts, this is the second time Rae and her husband Keith have opened up their home to all of us old renegades for a little casual ice-breaking before the dressier event the next evening. Another friend ordered matching t-shirts for all the women, making us official Deer Park Divas. 

At one point during the evening, Rae led me and Tom outside. The other Divas were already gathered there, and knowing how sneaky they are, I wondered what they had been up to now.

Turns out they pitched in and got us a paving stone decorated with the Air Force symbol, in honor of Pop. They knew Tom would appreciate that much more than flowers.  Ah, those sweet friends.

I'm embarrassed to say Tom and I were (again!) the last to leave Friday night... er, Saturday morning. We just hate for those nights to end!

 

 

No more worries about forgetting your lunch money!

 It goes on and on and on and on....

See the splotches of white-out? Those are guys who popped their 'Stud Duck' hats on just before the camera clicked - after being told to take them off. The white-out comes right off. Isn't 35 years long enough?

(That's me on the bottom front row, the brunette between blonde Larry and brunette Gina-tay.)

 

Chef Reggie

Alumni who have made the school proud. (I'm not on there.)

 

That's okay. I'm part of this special group! 

(For more images from the Homecoming football game, go HERE)

Deer Park Divas!

 

They are so sweet and thoughtful!

Photo-bombing!

 

 

Thanks again to Cindy for arranging the tour, Rae and Keith for opening your home,  Gina for ordering the t-shirts, Debra and the other Divas for the paving stone, and Sandy for taking over my camera so I could photo-bomb with Rae and Gina-tay! 

Oh, and happy 31st-anniversary-of-the-day-we-met to Tom! Thank you for asking me to dance!

1977

Tom and I are off to immerse ourselves in 1977.

In other words, we're going to my 35th high school reunion. (That number just slips through my brain without even registering - I can't be old enough to be out of school that long!)

Tonight I'll go on a tour of my old high school to see the changes (I hope there's something I still recognize!) and sit in the stands talking to classmates while a football game plays on the field far below, just like the old days. I get to relive my glory days of a Homecoming halftime (yes, I was Homecoming Queen - save your jokes, I've heard them all!) then head to a friend's house for a huge reunion warm-up party. 

Tomorrow night is the official reunion - a hotel ballroom, catered dinner, DJ, and dancing! Whoo-hoo!

There will be people attending this one who have never attended a reunion before. Facebook has closed the gaps we perceived from our high school days, and helped us see beyond whatever images we projected on each other back then. Now our similarities and shared past bind us together.

Best of all, I'll be seeing my Mama and Daddy, and (I hope) my sweet sister, and my kids are old enough to house-sit so we don't worry about it or the puppies. It will be a great weekend!

 

That's me, 35 years ago. I never realized they spelled my name wrong. Well, I probably did and just forgot. I'm 53, you know! This brain can only hold so much.

And look... once upon a time I wore a tiara...

Then came real life. 

Actually, as honored as I am to be  DPHS Class of '77's perpetual Homecoming Queen, I think tiara-less real life is pretty dang awesome, too, as you can see from my week of sweet!s  (I've anticipated a few as you can see...)

 

Monday: progress on your book; finally starting to learn Photoshop Elements; a friend knowing you will help them; a paycheck for your photography; friends who have stuck around for more than 40 years; another beautiful sunset

 

Tuesday: watching your old puppy run after a rabbit (extra sweet - he doesn't catch it!); water in your pond again; a puppy who is happy just to have you in sight; more progress on your book; a productive meeting

Wednesday: a haircut from Michael; your zoom back home, safe and sound and working again; grocery shopping and dinner with your baby girl; warm focaccia bread dipped in olive oil; a crescent moon hanging above a purple horizon; the detailed medical records you kept when your kids were small coming in handy now that they're grown and buying their own life insurance

 

Thursday: a pedi/mani and the massage chair you get to sit in; sales racks and 20% off coupons when you need new clothes; friends stepping in when you need help with a project; finally finishing the book you need to review; the birth of new Shallue... Kaitlyn Rose (Congratulations, Tom and Lynn!)

 

Friday: a road trip with your sweetie; an afternoon with your Mom and Dad; a tour of your old high school; your hometown homecoming football game, surrounded by classmates; a party at Rae's, seeing friends you haven't seen in decades

Saturday: your 35th high school reunion and all of the wonders and joys that holds; dancing; your children taking care of your puppies so you can party and dance without worrying about them

 

I hope you have a week full of sweet! moments!

P.S If you have a chance to get-together with longtime friends or classmates, even those you didn't know well in high school - or perhaps thought you knew and didn't care for - I hope you grab that opportunity to discover shared memories and rekindle (or plain kindle) friendships!

DPHS Class of '77 ROCKS! 

Daring Greatly

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

~ Theodore Roosevelt, "Citizenship in a Republic,"
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910

 

I had never heard of this speech of Teddy's before reading Dr. Brene Brown's book, Daring Greatly, but now it's one of my favorite quotes. 

The title fits because the book deals with learning to live life Wholeheartedly... being engaged with the world around us, feeling joy and contentment, realizing the value of at least stepping into "the arena". It's about being vulnerable.

It reminded me of Kahlil Gibran's poem, On Joy and Sorrow...

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight..."

Unless we "dare greatly" and risk failure, unless we continue to challenge ourselves, how will we ever experience true success? How will we grow? 

But it's about so much more than that. This is a tough book review to write because there is a lot to wade through in Daring Greatly... sex, marriage, parenting, leadership, shame, bullies...  

It's written for everyone - business leaders, politicians, teachers, parents, students... anyone who wants to lead effectively or live passionately and joyfully - and parts of it are a bit too academic for me. It would be a good book to take in small bites. But most of it is very personable, as if Brene (I feel we're on a first-name basis now) sat beside me, sharing her stories.

(I happened to catch her on Katie Couric's new talk show last week, so I even know what her voice sounds like.)

This isn't a textbook or a self-help book or a touchy-feely Chicken Soup for the Soul book... it's an inspirational, motivating eye-opener and I recommend it to each and every one of you, and not just because this is a paid review for BlogHer Book Club. The opinions are totally my own.

 

63 Years Ago...

...these two youngsters joined hands and hearts and said "I do."

 

 

They were young, but Daddy had been to the other side of the world and back on a Navy ship in World War II. He had been to college and now worked as a Highway Patrolman. Mama already knew from experience that marriage was more than a fairy-tale romance - she was a now a single mom, working to take care of her young son. 

They knew life had its dark side, but I guess they saw a light in each other that they knew would help them get through whatever darkness awaited them. 

I'm grateful that God led them to each other, crossing their paths in that little restaurant so many years ago, and for the stubborn love in their hearts that has refused to let life tear them apart... that has instead grown ever stronger, finding more joy and laughter than tears.

Mama and Daddy, I wrote this last year, but it will be true forever...

Thank you for the love you have for each other, a love that has survived life's firing, its ups and downs, joys and heartbreaks.

That looks past each other's idiosyncrasies and irritations into your hearts where love lies, releasing it to color everything you do with affection and patience.

Thank you for your strength, your humor, your honesty, your compassion, your generosity and unselfishness that reaches out to each of us and holds us close no matter the physical distance.

I am blessed.

 

Happy 63rd Anniversary, Mama and Daddy! 

 

"Our wedding was many years ago.  The celebration continues to this day."  ~Gene Perret 

Lessons

Lord, take me where you want me to go;
Let me meet who you want me to meet;
Tell me what you want me to say; and
Keep me out of your way.

- Fr. Mychal Judge, FDNY (died 9/11/01)

 

 

Every year in late September, early October, I head to the coast with a group of friends for some beach therapy. Our annual adventure is coming up soon, in fact. We've gone every year since 1999 - except one. 

That September of 2001 we were counting down the days until we could wave goodbye to our families, ready for some alone time.... a few days not having to do anything for anyone but ourselves.

But on the afternoon of the 11th, we changed our minds. We no longer wanted to wave goodbye to our families - we wanted to wrap them around us, so close and tight we could feel their breath and smell their familiar sweetness.  

It wasn't a decision driven by fear. We knew the odds of some terrorist targeting our little Texas Hill Country town, or the little fishing town on the Gulf where we sought some peace and quiet, were slim to none.

But as that day progressed, we were reminded not to take our loved ones or the time we have with them for granted. Not to let a day go by without making sure they knew they were our whole world. Not to forget that every morning we may be opening our eyes to our very last day on this earth.

So that autumn we soaked up our families instead of the sunshine. We stayed close to home, pondered the changes in our country and our world. We prayed for peace.

But the next year we packed our swimsuits, sunscreen, magazines, Bloody Mary mix, and vodka, and headed for the beach. We've done so ever since. We continued our lives, relished our freedom, refusing to let fear mold our lives, for that would allow the terrorists to win. 

But we haven't forgotten the lessons we learned on September 11, 2001 and the days that followed, about the things that truly matter and the steel-strength of this nation. We haven't forgotten how we overcame our differences, although some days (especially around election time) it's hard to believe. We haven't forgotten those ordinary citizens who were called to be heroes - and accepted the call. We haven't forgotten that by going about our lives, speaking our minds and sticking up for one another, we are fighting a war - and winning.

 

 

 

 

"This day and every day. Tear us down and we WILL rebuild. Knock us down and we WILL arise. We are people of diverse faith, ideologies, and color. We may be distracted or divided by internal matters, such as politics, but we are America and we will remain." 

~Johnny "Happy" Valentine, veteran and teacher

Sweets...Sorrows

Pop passed away early Thursday afternoon.

Those words are so hard to type; I couldn't do it here before today.

Thank you for all of the prayers and light sent his way, and ours. We believe his passing, and the way he passed, was an answer to prayers, probably even his own... so peaceful, his sons and beloved wife of 60 years by his side, holding his hands, whispering their love, letting him go to the next life, painfree and joyful.

These fragile bodies of ours aren't meant to last forever - what more could we ask?

I have heard about the Angels of Hospice, but this was my first experience with the loving care, consideration and respect they pour upon patients and their families. If you ever doubt there is goodness in the world, spend a day in a hospice center and your faith will be restored. I believe every member of the staff of Covenant Hospice in West Florida Hospital in Pensacola, from the doctor to the woman who mopped the floors, is an angel.

This week has been a blur, but moments of sweetness still swirled through the sorrow... 

.....arriving in time to whisper your love and say goodbye to your dear father-in-law; listening to childhood stories of your husband and brothers that trigger a laugh from their dad; supporting your husband, his brothers, and your mother-in-law when their hearts are breaking; the loving care of hospice workers; calls and messages of love and prayers from friends and family; the fierce love of sons for their father and mother

Thank you again for your sweet messages and prayers, and please keep them coming as Mom, Tom, and his brothers adjust to life without Pop.

Kenneth Peter Shallue, beloved husband and father, passed from this life on Thursday, August 9, 2012. Born on September 9, 1929, he is survived by his wife of 60 years, Mary (Janie) Shallue and nine sons, Kenneth (Cathy), Randall (Mary Lou), Thomas (Barbara), Steven (Kim), Joseph (Erin), Russell (Laura), Michael (Lisa), Robert (Joan), and John (Yadira), as well as siblings Dorothy Place (Greg), Mary Jane Andrastik (Ron), Patrick Shallue (Judy), Larry Shallue (Cathy), Michael Shallue (Paulette), Danny Shallue (Cathy), and Charles Shallue (Mary). Twenty-seven grandchildren and four great-grandchildren will also miss playing cards and fishing with their Pop-Pop.
MSGT Shallue retired from the USAF in 1972. He was an active Knight of Council 7027 and a 4th Degree member of Assembly 2823 with the Knights of Columbus of Milton.

To read more about Pop, read The Leader of the Pack I wrote in honor of his birthday three years ago.

Rest in peace, Pop. I love you and I'm going to miss seeing that twinkle in your eye.

O my God, fill my soul with holy joy,
courage and strength to serve you.
Enkindle your love in me and then walk with me
along the next stretch of road before me.
I do not see very far ahead, but when I have arrived
where the horizon now closes down,
a new prospect will open before me,
and I shall meet it with peace. Amen.

- St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross

 

Fathers-in-law, prayers, and other blessings

Tom was sitting on the porch swing when I came home late last night after a double shift at the winery.

The look on his face let me know something was wrong, but several long seconds went by before he was able to tell me what it was: his father had suffered a stroke that morning, and the prognosis wasn't good.

This morning we received some positive news, but much prayer is still needed. Would you mind stopping a moment right now and saying one for our sweet Pop, Ken Shallue? While you're at it, please slip in a few extras for Tom, his mom, and eight brothers.

Thank you so, so much.

 

Just a fraction of the Shallue clan gathered in Florida last week, related by birth or marriage to that wonderful couple in the middle. 

 

And now, here are a few of the sweet!s I listed from the past week...

 

Tuesday: your mom and dad finally finding a good doctor and getting treatment of their summer colds; being able to stay home all day and move closer to getting caught up on things

Wednesday: getting re-blonded; watching your son try to lasso a stray cow in the brush at night; a beautiful full moon right at dusk 

Thursday: horses and new friends on your country road; an offer to ride a neighbor's horse; a 5-hour lunch with a friend at a restaurant overlooking the lake; your stray cow watered, fed, and taken to a good pasture; your puppies in the house for hours with no accidents

Friday: running into neighbors you rarely see on your morning walk; a block of time for writing; putting out the fire you started on your grill before it has a chance to spread (whew!); watching two more episodes of Breaking Bad with your hubby

Saturday: time for a walk with your puppies before heading to work at a winery on a beautiful morning; a couple celebrating their 10th anniversary dressed in their wedding clothes; another couple celebrating their 60th wedding annniversary at the winery, even if they're not dressed in their wedding clothes; tons of prayer for your father-in-law, who you discover had a stroke earlier in the day, but your husband didn't let you know because he didn't want to upset you while you were at work

Sunday: positive news about your father-in-law; love and prayers from friends for your family; attending Mass with your husband and son

 

Thank you again for your prayers. I hope you have a week full of sweet!s and remember not to take the blessings in your life for granted.

"That's the smell of money..."

I was born and grew up in a town nicknamed Stink-a-dena on the Houston Ship Channel. In December, the blue northers pushed the scent of the paper mill onto our street.

I still connect that smell with Christmas.

The plants lining the ship channel paid tons of property taxes, so we had great schools. That's one reason our parents moved there. The other was money.

Good wages. Good benefits. Good schools. What more could you want?

I'm not complaining. I'm really not. I'm grateful, although it's a conflicted feeling inside of me. I lived in a great neighborhood, went to exceptional schools, have priceless memories, and treasured lifelong friends.

I eventually went to work at one of the new chemical plants myself, which, along with his GI Bill, provided Tom the means to get his degree.

But I quit as soon as I could and we found a way to move from the area. I wasn't homesick a day, except for the sight of my parents and siblings and many friends we had there.

The best thing, besides the change in scenery? My kids' asthma faded away like a wisp of steam from a boiler stack.

"That's the smell of money." It's a common phrase in my hometown, and it's true. The trade-off wasn't worth it to us, even right now when we're so broke.

But I would never criticize my friends and family who still work in those chemical plants, or others around the world, because the truth is, all of us depend on the products they're producing, and we should be grateful to them. 

My niece shared a song on my Facebook wall today about chemical workers.  It's what triggered this post - she said it reminded her of me. In some odd way, it makes me proud. Thanks, Carol.

Without further ado, here's The Chemical Worker's Song...

 

 

A Father...

A father gives advice 

A father nourishes the body 

and the soul 

 

A father encourages

A father reads

A father lends a hand 

A father plays 

 

A father offers support 

 

A father sticks close by your side

 

A father makes memories

A father teaches 

A father laughs 

 

A father is gallant

 

A father proves age is just a number

 

A father reaches out 

A father hangs on tight

 

A father helps you aim high

A father shows pride 

A father sets a good example to follow

A father relaxes

A father listens

A father works

 

A father helps out

 

A father loves

A father dances 

A truly rich man is one whose children run into his arms when his hands are empty.

~Author Unknown

Happy Father's Day to all of you fathers.

 I'm traveling today, making a one day trip to spend Father's Day with my Daddy, so this was a repost from last year featuring my three favorite fathers - my sweet Daddy, my remarkable father-in-law and my wonderful husband Tom, father of my children.

 I'm blessed to still have all three in my life.

For those of you who can no longer wish your daddy "Happy Father's Day" in person, I'll give mine extra hugs and whisper a prayer for you and yours.

I'll also send you over to read Jennifer's beautiful words on love and fatherhood and imperfection at Ripplespeak... "there you are... i see you."

On Martha and Friendship and Tomorrows

I heard Garth Brooks sing "If Tomorrow Never Comes..." on the radio the other day. It was the same day that I heard about the unexpected passing of one of my mom's closest friends.

Mama and Martha went to the same high school but didn't become friends until they worked for the same company years later, when I was little more than a baby. 

Martha's face grew familiar to me from family campouts, weekends at the Comal River, wedding and anniversary celebrations...but also during times of sadness.  She was a friend my mom could count on to be by her side, no matter what.

This photo of Martha and my mom was taken just three months ago at my cousin's funeral. I wasn't surprised to see her there, and I sure didn't think it would be the last time I saw her.

I'm so glad something urged me to pose them together.

But we weren't the only ones Martha stood by. Mama voiced concern to me just a few weeks ago that Martha was doing too much for everyone and not taking care of herself.

"It makes her happy, Mama," I told her. And Mama had to agree. That's what Martha lived for, helping others. She was in her 80's and suffered from back pain and other ailments, but she didn't let it keep her from doing what she loved, being a friend.

"...Cause I've lost loved ones in my life 
Who never knew how much I loved them 
Now I live with the regret 
That my true feelings for them never were revealed." ~Garth Brooks

I doubt if Martha lived with any regrets, at least none regarding letting others know how important they were to her. I'm going to try to live that way myself.

Martha, thank you for all the years of steadfast love and friendship and laughter you gave my mom. You will be missed.

To my kids (and myself)

     ".....I urge you to do whatever you do for no reason other than you love it and believe in its importance.  Don’t bother with work you don’t believe in any more than you would a spouse you’re not crazy about, lest you too find yourself on the wrong side of a Baltimore Orioles comparison.  Resist the easy comforts of complacency, the specious glitter of materialism, the narcotic paralysis of self-satisfaction.  Be worthy of your advantages.  And read… read all the time… read as a matter of principle, as a matter of self-respect.  Read as a nourishing staple of life.  Develop and protect a moral sensibility and demonstrate the character to apply it.  Dream big.  Work hard.  Think for yourself.  Love everything you love, everyone you love, with all your might.  And do so, please, with a sense of urgency, for every tick of the clock subtracts from fewer and fewer; and as surely as there are commencements there are cessations, and you’ll be in no condition to enjoy the ceremony attendant to that eventuality no matter how delightful the afternoon.

            The fulfilling life, the distinctive life, the relevant life, is an achievement, not something that will fall into your lap because you’re a nice person or mommy ordered it from the caterer.  You’ll note the founding fathers took pains to secure your inalienable right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness–quite an active verb, “pursuit”–which leaves, I should think, little time for lying around watching parrots rollerskate on Youtube.  The first President Roosevelt, the old rough rider, advocated the strenuous life.  Mr. Thoreau wanted to drive life into a corner, to live deep and suck out all the marrow.  The poet Mary Oliver tells us to row, row into the swirl and roil.  Locally, someone… I forget who… from time to time encourages young scholars to carpe the heck out of the diem.  The point is the same: get busy, have at it.  Don’t wait for inspiration or passion to find you.  Get up, get out, explore, find it yourself, and grab hold with both hands.  (Now, before you dash off and get your YOLO tattoo, let me point out the illogic of that trendy little expression–because you can and should live not merely once, but every day of your life.  Rather than You Only Live Once, it should be You Live Only Once… but because YLOO doesn’t have the same ring, we shrug and decide it doesn’t matter.)

            None of this day-seizing, though, this YLOOing, should be interpreted as license for self-indulgence.  Like accolades ought to be, the fulfilled life is a consequence, a gratifying byproduct.  It’s what happens when you’re thinking about more important things.  Climb the mountain not to plant your flag, but to embrace the challenge, enjoy the air and behold the view.  Climb it so you can see the world, not so the world can see you.  Go to Paris to be in Paris, not to cross it off your list and congratulate yourself for being worldly.  Exercise free will and creative, independent thought not for the satisfactions they will bring you, but for the good they will do others, the rest of the 6.8 billion–and those who will follow them.  And then you too will discover the great and curious truth of the human experience is that selflessness is the best thing you can do for yourself.  The sweetest joys of life, then, come only with the recognition that you’re not special.

 Because everyone is."

 

I didn't write this.

I wish I had. It was written by English teacher David McCullough, Jr.of Wellesley High School in Wellesley, Massachusetts and given to the graduating Class of 2012 as a commencement speech.

I wish someone had given this to my kids at their graduation. Heck, I wish someone had given it to my class at our graduation.

You can find the speech in its entirety HERE in the Swellesley Report (yes, really) and I urge you to go read it. And then I urge you to print it out and hang it on your wall and read it over and over and over.

Because his words don't just apply to graduating seniors but to everyone. Each morning we wake up to a new day full of moments waiting to matter and make our own... full of slippery opportunities, experiences, and chances... full of places to explore. 

Thank you, Suldog, for posting the link on your blog and making me aware of it!

"Climb the mountain not to plant your flag, but to embrace the challenge, enjoy the air and behold the view.  Climb it so you can see the world, not so the world can see you." 

Amen, Mr. David McCullough, Jr. Amen!

Dinner Theater (starring Max)

I sit on the back deck, glass of red wine in my hand, rocking back and forth, back and forth. Tom has to work late, so I'm covering the evening meal for him. 

Max is stretched out in front of his food bowl. Belle is just a few feet away near hers. The sun has dropped below the trees, leaving a smudge of pink on their tips. From there the sky deepens to a rich blue with only tiny wisps of cloud marring the perfection.

The air pulses with the beat of the cicadas, a back and forth, up and down, see-sawing song that drowns out everything else.

But Max somehow hears something else through the din and he's up on his feet in one fluid movement, despite his dysplasiatic knees and hips, bounding to the end of the deck in Tigger fashion, barking, barking, barking, assisted by his sidekick Belle, who isn't quite sure what they're barking at, but she's got his back, nonetheless. 

I praise his ferocity and courage. Satisfied I'm convinced he protected me from imminent danger, he stops barking and wanders back down the deck to eat, but bending down to the bowl hurts his elbows, so I set down my glass and hold the bowl up off the ground for him, braced against my knees, ignoring the pain in my lower back until he finishes the last morsel. 

That's the least I could do for someone who just saved my life, isn't it?

Ah, sweet Max.

 

 

 

Aren't you through yet, Mom?

Just one more, Maxey, I promise. Now smile!

 

Okay, how's this?

Good boy!

Thinking of another Memorial Day Weekend (plus my Sweet!s of My Week)

A day with our kids and other families, swimming in a cold river, eating fresh pineapple, grilling burgers... a night spent laughing and dancing to Johnny Dee and the Rocket '88s... and then a phone call early on that Tuesday morning afterwards that made me realize how much I had been taking for granted and how quickly life can change directions.

That Tuesday was fourteen years ago today. Tom left for work, expecting it to be like any other day, but it wasn't.  He didn't expect the other car to come into his lane, didn't expect to spend a week in the hospital or the summer trying to heal and recover instead of building our home. He didn't expect to live with pain for the next fourteen years.

But that's what happened, whether he expected it or not. And the thing is, we got through it. We built our home... not that summer, but there were other summers, and I'm grateful for that. We've spent more days swimming in cold water with family and friends, and evenings laughing and dancing. I don't think a day goes by when Tom isn't in some degree of pain, but somehow he moves on and doesn't let it stop him from doing what he needs, or wants, to do.

(I took notes and turned them into an essay as therapy... click "In the Aftermath of a Car Crash" if you want to read more about it.)

It wasn't the last unexpected detour in our road we've encountered, and I'm sure there are more waiting for us. I can't say I'm grateful it happened. I'd love to tell you something positive that came from it, but honestly, I haven't been able to see that ray of light yet. Perhaps it's shining where I can't see it. I can only hope so.

But I'm still grateful, period, that whatever roadblock is in front of us now, we're approaching it together.

Life is just too short for grudges and regrets that burn holes in your heart, for dwelling on the past or the future so long that you miss your today.

It's too short not to pursue your passion even if you only have a few seconds free each day to do it.

Too short to sit back and wait for things to happen, or for someone else to do it, or to make excuses.

Too short not to love with your whole heart, leaving no room for pride or selfishness, always trying to understand, listen, forgive, and ask forgiveness.

Too short not to take care of yourself and those you love.

Life is just too short, period, and too wonderful to take for granted.

(I've spared you the most graphic images of Tom. His face was split open. You're welcome.)

And now for a few sweet! moments of my week...

Sunday: chunks of time for writing; sitting in a dark theater, laughing at Dark Shadows with 2/3 of your kids, flashing back to watching the series with your dad; theater popcorn, courtesy of your son; giving my time for a friend

Monday: being asked to critique a high schooler's short story; friends pulling together to support another friend; a framed photo of you and your daughter from more than a decade ago sitting on your desk while you work, a belated Mother's Day gift from your baby girl

Tuesday: a songbird greeting you first thing in the morning; a day with your daughter, running errands, grocery shopping, meeting her new roommates; a funny movie with friends; popcorn for dinner twice in one week

Wednesday: Texas farmland and wide open spaces; supporting a dear friend as she says goodbye to her mother; catching up with long-time friends; your husband taking care of a mama mouse and her babies that he found in the garage, rather than put them outside where they'd surely be eaten by a snake 

(but now what do we do with them???)

Thursday: working out for the first time in a week; hours free to work on your book; two walks with your dogs in one day; friends who send you links to freelance jobs; not having to drive anywhere all day! 

Friday: turtles and yellow-crowned night heron sightings, even if you forgot to bring your zoom lens on your morning walk (do you spot it up there in the drying-up pong?); your puppy pouncing through the tall grass after lizards; scratching things off your to-do list; a call from your sister; sigh-evoking engagement photos of your son and his love; your baby girl home for the weekend

Saturday: having your husband by your side, through good days and bad days

Share your sweet moments with me! I think sharing makes them sweeter.

I hope your coming week is full of sweet, magical moments and that you remember not to take a single one for granted!

This world, after all our science and sciences, is still a miracle; wonderful, inscrutable, magical and more, to whosoever will think of it.

~Thomas Carlyle

Ah, Mother's Day...

For the first time in years, I actually saw my mother on Mother's Day instead of telling her how much I love and appreciate her via a card and a phone call.

It meant missing church and spending hours on the road Sunday morning, but Daniel (middle son) awoke early enough to send me off stuffed with my traditional Mother's Day eggs and bacon breakfast. He even offered to feed the dogs for me, but I treated myself to those few relaxing minutes on the back porch with my coffee.

I got to see the other 2/3 of my kids on Saturday at my future daughter-in-law's sister's college graduation party in San Antonio. Tommy gave me a beautiful card and TG surprised me with a cup she decorated with sparkly beads and a note that begins "To my closest friend, my role model, and my rock..."

Add the breakfast Daniel made me, and what more could a mother want?

To see her own mother, that's what.

It helped that I had today off, so after dinner at Sudie's Catfish House with my mom, dad, sister, brother-in-law, and niece yesterday afternoon, I was able to relax and visit awhile last night, and then sleep late and enjoy bacon and eggs a la Daddy this morning before jumping back on that highway headed home.

(Speaking of Sudie's... we were sitting there in one of the side dining rooms when I noticed this older woman enter. Her face looked so familiar, a memory drifting out of my childhood, but I couldn't place it. Then her husband entered, and her daughter, and the memory was anchored. Ginger, Buddy, and Randi who used to live behind us, who used to call me BeeBee. I spent hours and hours at their house, played in their backyard, coveted Randi's doll collection and loved Ginger's cherry tomatoes.

How fitting, and what a wonderful surprise, to see one of the moms from your childhood on Mother's Day. Randi actually lives near me and we met for lunch a couple of years ago, so it was good to see her again and meet her husband and daughter.)

My gift to my mom...I gathered most of my flower photos from the past few weeks into a printed bouquet... a book of my flower photos, accoompanied by sentimental but fitting quotes about mothers.

And another gift, although I'm not sure it's one she noticed... although I glanced at my email on my phone, I didn't touch her computer. Not once. It'll take me a couple of weeks to catch up on Facebook and email and blog reading, but I feel it was a good trade-off to focus on time with her and Daddy while I had the chance.

I have to admit I was busy snapping photos out the back door again. Two green parakeets (which are actually about 10 inches long) and a white dove visited their backyard, along with the regular menagerie. I'll post those pics later on the photography blog.

I hope all of you had a wonderful weekend, too. If you weren't able to be with your mother, I hope memories of her filled your heart and brought a smile to your face.

And if the week ahead of you looks as crazy and rushed as the one ahead of me, don't forget to breathe and focus on each moment! 

"If you have a mom, there is nowhere you are likely to go where a prayer has not already been."

 ~Robert Brault

Tenacity

Tomorrow will mark four days in a row I didn't have to report to one job or another. That's a record. When I say "job", I'm not talking about working on my book or photography, but at one of those hourly paying gigs that help feed our bank account.

When I envisioned these four wide open days, I saw myself up early, typing away at my book, filling dozens of pages even before heading out for my morning walk with the puppies. I would then edit some photos, write a blog post or two before lunch, followed by making a major dent on my to-do notebook (it's expanded way beyond a list.) I would still have time to work out, and take the pups and my camera on an afternoon walk to the pond. 

Well, of course, in real life it didn't work out that way. I had so many odds and ends to take care of that it felt like my days just kind of piddled away.

I did manage to  work on my book a couple of times, edit some photos, and publish a blog post, but there are some major to-do's I still haven't tackled.

There's always tomorrow...

I say that too often these days.

The thing is... and I hate to put words to the phantom thoughts drifting through my brain.. but I'm beginning to think it's impossible to be a writer, photographer, blogger, personal historian, mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, waiter, substitute teacher, and.... um, I think that's it.... all at the same time.

But that doesn't mean I'm giving up. 

On one of my recent walks, I noticed new grapevine twisting around an old limb. Clinging, climbing, intent on moving ever up and up. I was first struck by the bright red color, but its tenacity is what mesmerizes and inspires me now. Tom cleared out as much grapevine as he could this winter - it tends to choke the trees - but grapevine is one stubborn, headstrong plant.

 

I want to be like that.

Last Wednesday night I attended a photography workshop by Clay Blackmore, a professional portrait photographer about my age who started with film thirty years ago. He had to make the switch to digital - and to edgier, artsy photos - to stay on top of his business.

The guy next to me and I started talking. He also was about my age and had been a film photographer who only recently picked up a digital camera, trying to get back into photography and make some money from it. I can't remember now what he asked me, but in answering him, I mentioned that I was writing a book as well as doing some portrait and art photography.

That's when the woman sitting in front of us, also about our age, turned around. She asked me about my book and how I found my critique group. Seems she started writing a romance novel twenty years ago herself, but set it on a shelf somewhere along the way. It had been gnawing on her lately to dust it off and finish it, but she just hadn't done it yet.

When we said good night a little later, I told her "Get back on that book tomorrow!" And she promised she was going to. I believe she did.

I like to think I inspired her. But she also inspired me.

So tomorrow, I'll be working on my book. And my photos. And my blogs. And transcribing an interview, scanning some old photos...

Tomorrow has arms wide open, full of possibility, don't you know?

 

I hope you've had a great week that included at least a few minutes of doing something you've dreamed about, something that makes your imagination soar and your heart beat faster.

If not, there's still time. What are you waiting for?

"Success is the sum of small efforts, repeated day in and day out."

~ Robert J. Collier

 

Earth Day and an Apology to my Puppies

The dogs' bowls were empty. Max had wandered around the corner of the house, probably on down to the doghouse, calling it a night. Belle lay near me, gnawing on a bone. 

I had a few hours left in the day after seven hours (on my feet) at the winery and a long walk with the puppies. Potential to-do's flipped through my mind like cards in a rolodex...

And yet there I sat, butt frozen to my rocking chair, mesmerized by the rhythmic chirp-chirps of the crickets, the bass croaking of the frogs, the steady singing of the little waterfall below me.

I rocked and watched the blue of a cloudless eastern sky deepen... watched a blink of a crescent moon appear in the west... tried to think of a way to describe the color of the sunset...

No clouds. Nothing dramatic. Just a golden, pinkish, blue...

...and that's when I heard it, the buzzing in my ear. Mosquito. Time to go in.

But despite the mosquitos and other bugs, Earth is a great place to live, isn't it? 

Happy Earth Day!

Now, the apology... 

In yesterday's post, I mentioned a dead armadillo we discovered on the property, and that we suspected our puppies, trying to protect us from great danger, had something to do with its demise.

Well, I think everyone knows armadillos are pretty harmless. 

But coral snakes aren't, and we're pretty sure the dogs also had something to do with the demise of this one pictured below...

Red and yella kill a fella. Yep, coral snake. 

We found it dead and decaying on the side of our driveway back in March, and yet I never once posted about it. Oh, I intended to, but there's that time thing...

But that's no excuse. I should have bragged about my ferocious, courageous, heroic puppies at the time, so that's why I'm officially apologizing to them now.

Will you forgive me, Belle and Max?

Pretty please?

Pretty, pretty please? We'll take an extra walk tomorrow...

Whew. I think I'm forgiven.

Sweet dogs.

Sweet Earth. 

 

Love, Life, and The Fault in Our Stars

I hesitated signing up to review The Fault in Our Stars by John Green for the BlogHer Book Club. The blurb said it was about a teenager with terminal cancer, and quite honestly, I wasn't sure if I could handle another book about death and dying. It feels like that's all I've been writing about lately.

But I did sign up for it, because I've enjoyed all of the other books I've read in the BHBC. I trusted them that this one would be just as good.

Well, I'm so glad I did. Green's characters - Hazel, Augustus, Isaac - are so real and fresh and funny that I totally fell in love with them. I could hardly put the book down.

Green tells their story without letting it muddle into a melodramatic tearjerker. Oh, I cried plenty of tears - it's a book about kids dealing with cancer and facing death, after all - but mostly I laughed and cheered and rejoiced.

The characters came to life for me, more than any other characters I've ever gotten to know and love. They felt genuine, and I think I'm qualified to judge, having raised three teenagers of my own in recent history.

Where other teenagers dream of their future, Green's characters wonder if they'll have a future beyond the next year... week... month. They realize the importance of the "here and now" because they know that may be all they get. And it reminded me that none of us is guaranteed more than the "here and now".

So, even though the main characters are teenagers, this book isn't just for young adults. The story goes straight to your heart, making it ageless. 

It's also a love story more than a cancer story. Love doesn't know anything about cancer, or oxygen tanks, or prosthetic legs - it's a straight heart-to-heart connection. And when so much in your life is out of your hands, it's a relief to have some sense of control over even a small aspect.

As Augustus says, "You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you."

This is a paid review for BlogHer Book Club, but the opinions are my own. I really do love, love, love this book and its characters. If you've ever loved, loved, loved a book, join the discussion, "Which Books Do You Love?", HERE.

A Celestial Evening (Celeste Krenz and Harley's Angels)

Friday night, Tom and I joined 38 other sets of ears in our friends' living room to listen to Celeste Krenz, an singer/songwriter we'd never heard of before, even though her amazing voice has been singing for audiences for a couple of decades.

Her songs are unique, yet familiar somehow... her voice lyrical, soothing, and angelic... even when she's singing "If I Had a Gun"... 

And nothing beats listening to music like that in the intimacy of a home concert.

These particular friends, Bob and Lisa, have hosted several concerts in their home, including the Shake Russell concert a few years ago that inspired us to have our own (because we couldn't make it to theirs!)

Two years ago Bob and Lisa decided to add a purpose beyond entertainment to the concerts. Each artist who performed in their home signed a a Venture V3 acoustic/electric guitar that was later auctioned off. Last year it went for $2000 in a live auction at the Flight Against Breast Cancer fundraiser.

The fundraiser benefited Harley's Angels, a non-profit organization comprised of a group of "women motorcycle enthusiasts dedicated to promoting breast cancer awareness, research and education." 

Bob, a motorcycle enthusiast himself, lost his sister Karen to breast cancer a few years ago. This is his way of celebrating her life and helping to fight the disease that took her life.

The Shake Russell Trio and Michael Hearne will be the featured performers again this year at the third annual Flight Against Breast Cancer fundraiser on September 29.

Celeste Krenz kicked off this year's concert series and fundraising: a portion of her CD sales went to Harley's Angels.

Susan Gibson plays in May. I'm not sure who else Bob has lined up this year, but I'm sure he'll gather some other great musician/artists. Last year's guitar was signed by Tavana, Chuck Cannon, Klaus Oglesby, Jeff Senour, Joe McGinnity, Shake Russell, Doug Floyd, Mike Roberts and Michael Hearne.

As you can tell, Bob isn't one of those people who sits around wishing other people would do something. He just does it.

Bob holds the guitar steady while Celeste signs her name.

Celeste with representatives of Harley's Angels.

 

Celeste with hosts, Bob and Lisa.

 

I just love this pic of Bob and my sweetie! They've been friends since their Coast Guard days. 

If you're interested in learning more about the Flight Against Breast Cancer concert series and auction, let me know and I'll be sure to keep you posted on the details.

Beauty in the Midst

Last week I helped celebrate my cousin Ronnie's life. 

Looking through the photos afterward, Claire Bidwell Smith's words kept coming back to me...

"Even in the midst of all this pain and sadness I see something beautiful."

 

I snapped this one of Ronnie's sister Cindy surrounded by her daughters, grandkids, and great-granddaughter because of the palpable feeling of support they gave her, as well as the sweet hug and kiss of comfort from a grandson to his grandma. I had never even met some of these generations before, my own cousins once or twice or three times removed.

 

I had to capture this smile on my mother's face as she met her great-great niece, Khloie, and the proud smile on Khloie's grandma's face.

 

Representatives of the Veterans of Foreign Wars paid tribute to Ronnie's military service with a few words at the graveside ceremony. 

The man in overalls on the far left was Ronnie's neighbor, a good friend who drove Ronnie to and from his many doctor visits. 

 

 

 

Charles and Howard are brothers, my cousins. 

I had good visits with both of them on this day. 

I can't remember the last time I saw either one of them. Perhaps it was at a funeral.  It makes me sad to think the next time I see them will probably be at another funeral.

 

 

Martha and my mom's friendship goes all the way back to when I was a baby. (They went to high school together, but weren't friends then.) Martha's sweet face always appears in those times when Mama needs support, reminding me of my own longtime friends. (I wonder what they talk about when I'm not around?) 

 

Tex-Mex for lunch afterwards with my parents and sister, Brenda. 

Mama and Daddy aren't often this dressed up. I used this opportunity for a photo shoot. Daddy made me work for it, though.

"Well, that's okay, but Daddy, this time remember to look down just a little so the flash doesn't bounce off of your glasses. And smile!"

 

"Hmmm... better, but Daddy this time don't take a bite of food before I take the picture and really smile! You know I'll keep taking them until you do what I tell you."

 

 "That's it! Perfect!" (He knew I meant it!)

The Rules of Inheritance: a journey through grief

 

 

It's somehow fitting that I've been reading Claire Bidwell Smith's The Rules of Inheritance for the past few weeks.

Last night I dove into the final chapters, my mind still swirling with sorrow and joy that lingered from a quick trip to Houston for my cousin's funeral. Sorrow for friends and family wrapped tight in grief for the recent loss of their loved ones, including a dear friend whose husband just died, and joy from time spent with my parents, sister, and cousins I rarely see. 

I arrived home just in time to attend Ash Wednesday services, where Father Don reminded us of our mortality, of the importance of not squandering the gift of life we've been given, but to find a way to give back. 

Through all of this, Smith's book was on my mind, because it deals with life and death and grief. Mostly her own grief. When Smith was fourteen, both of her parents were diagnosed with cancer. Her mother died when Smith was eighteen and then, just seven years later, she watched her father take his last breath.

Smith takes us along on her heart-wrenching and courageously candid journey, but as tragic as it is, underneath is an unspoken glimmer of hope that kept me turning the pages. I knew she survived this dark passage of her life... I could tell that she was writing it from a patch of light that gave her strength to venture back in, in order to share her story with us.

But I couldn't imagine how she did it. I wanted to know. I needed to know.

How do you face the grief without letting it swallow you? How do you continue when you've lost your "most important person"?

I've felt grief and loss. Two sisters-in-law. My oldest brother. All of my grandparents. Aunts, uncles, cousins. Close friends.

But my parents and my husband's parents are all still alive... still voices on the other end of the phone... still just a hop in the car and a few hours' drive away.  Except for my brother, we have all ten of our siblings. All of our children.

Mostly, we still have each other.

But life is so fragile. In little over a year, six of my friends have become widows. Several of my classmates from high school, former co-workers, and now my cousin have died in the past year as well, while others have lost their parents. 

Smith was young when she lost her parents, but is there ever an age when you're prepared for that void in your life?

I feel blessed. Grateful. And lucky. But I also feel a twinge of guilt that makes me stumble over the right words. Smith says "If you haven't been through a major loss, then the truth is that you just don't know what to say to someone who has." 

She talks about the friends that gathered around her in her father's last days. Just their physical presence, their touch, helped her get through it. I remember how much it meant to me when I looked up at my brother's funeral and spotted my girlfriends.

Even if I don't know what to say, I'll try harder to be physically present.

I also won't pass judgement. I won't tell anyone it's time to get on with their lives, but will try to just listen. "Our grief is as individual as our lives," Smith says. 

Simone Weil said "All sins are attempts to fill voids."

Smith's reactions to her parents' illnesses and deaths certainly proves this to be true. She relates with raw honesty her futile attempts to fill the void. I'm amazed she not only survived, but managed to settle her father's estate, get her degree, and hold jobs while traveling the dark and gritty path of her teens and twenties.

I recommend this book to anyone who is actively grieving, but also to anyone who has struggled with depression, loneliness, bad relationships, trying to find the right path, or just trying to figure out who they really are. They'lll be able to identify with her story, too, whether or not they've suffered loss such as hers.

It's not until years later that Smith allows her grief to bubble to the surface or is able to recognize Elisabeth Kübler-Ross's five stages of grief in her dark journey.

Now a grief counselor, Smith used the stages of grief as the framework for her memoir. It isn't a linear story, but jumps from one episode in her life to another, back and forth, but told in the present tense, allowing us to experience the moment through her eyes. 

Some of the episodes are repeated with slight differences; I didn't understand this until near the last chapter when she explains the stages are just a frame to work with. "You may never experience all of them. You may go through them out of order or sometimes find yourself in more than one of them at the same time." 

Life and death go hand in hand. Personal loss is waiting for each of us around one of the corners, just ahead. I believe reading Smith's book will help anyone prepare for the inevitable grief that comes with life... and to believe that it's possible to eventually get to the other side of grief and continue on.

At the end of the book, Smith describes walking in on her husband and young daughter having a tea party. She wants to freeze that moment, but knows she can't. She knows time will pass, along with many others, that they'll all grow old and die. 

But her father's words, spoken shortly before his last breath, resonate through her words. I know she believes them and I do, too:

"Life is worth living."

 

 

 

 

This is a paid review for BlogHer Book Club but the opinions expressed are totally my own.

 

 

 

"Girl...We SO Crazy" (a Diva weekend in Long Hollow)

 

This tiny naked baby, arms opened wide for a hug, sits on my kitchen window sill, a sweet reminder that just two weeks ago my kitchen was overflowing in love and friendship and hugs from women who have known me almost forever.

 

 

 

The baby came hidden in an authentic King Cake, carted all the way from Louisiana (along with some genuine boudin sausages) by my friend Sandy.

I'm not sure who found the baby in their piece of cake, but I love that they plopped him down where I would spot him and be reminded of them every day.

The Diva weekend started on a Friday night, two weeks ago tomorrow, when half of the women braved my dirt road in the dark of night just to get together with friends they've known since high school. 

The rest rolled in on Saturday.

The beauty of these get-togethers, though, is that we weren't all friends in high school. It took a few decades, but we're grabbing this chance to connect in ways that are impossible when you're a teenager. 

I didn't start snapping photos until Saturday morning, though, when some of us ventured out on a walk to wake up my husband who had escaped to his tent across the creek soon after grilling us a delicious fajita dinner the night before.

 

 

What a sweetheart! 

We thought about jumping in on him, then realized he might be as naked as that King Cake baby, so we just talked to him through the canvas, instead. 

 

Look! I wasn't the only one swinging a big camera that weekend! 

Love this one of Rae and Max, just chillin' by the creek...

Max and Belle love Rae - she always brings them treats. 

This time she brought puppy Valentines, of course...

After a morning spent hanging out on the porch talking and eating more fajitas, we piled into SUVs and headed to Flat Creek Estate for a wine tasting and tour. 

It was fun being a customer for a change!

We even talked Chef Sean into posing for a photo...

Back at the house, we continued the celebration of our friendship with tons of food, including the King Cake below...

...and a toast (I knew that one day all of those souvenir shot glasses I collected would come in handy!)

And that's why I feel this photo says it all...

I cannot even imagine where I would be today were it not for that handful of friends who have given me a heart full of joy. Let’s face it: Friends make life a lot more fun.

~ Charles R. Swindoll

What Electrifies You?

Author Gayle Brandeis posed that question on SheWrites last month. “What electrifies you? What gets your heart pumping? What takes your breath away? What makes the hair on your arms stand up on end?”

I answered...

Dancing, which I do as often as possible, even to the extent that I missed talking to a lot of people at my high school reunion because I couldn't leave the dance floor. Also playing my drums. I'm not any good. It will never make me any money so no matter how hard I try I can't justify the time I spend on them, but I play anyway, because playing them makes me feel alive. (But only when no one's around. Unless I've had a few drinks.)

And guess what? My answer was the Grand Prize Winner! What a sweet surprise when I saw my name in a SheWrites newsletter yesterday, especially since I had totally forgotten about it. I won a copy of Brandeis' The Book of Live Wires, along with a copy of her Bellwether-Prize winning novel, The Book of Dead Birds.

Yay! Books electrify me, too! (Also winning Grand Prizes and getting things for free!)

Something else that electrifies me is seeing my friends follow their dreams... and trying to help them along the way. Here are a couple who inspire me...

 

Walking the Walk

When I first met Jimmie Jackson, he was a tow-headed golf-loving teenager, rarely speaking up in the Confirmation class I taught. Now he's all grown up with a degree in Electronic Media, living in Nashville, and preparing for the experience of a lifetime: a solo 2,178 mile long journey along the Appalachian Trail, from Georgia to Maine.

Only Jimmie isn't just walking it... he's going to film a documentary as he goes, focusing on the spiritual aspect of the walk as much as the physical. "Why do people hike? What is the connection between being outdoors and leading a spiritual life?" He hopes to find the answers to those questions along the way.

Go to his website, Walking the Walk.org to find out more, and please consider making a small donation to help him see this dream come true. He really is a sweet kid (and I'm not just saying that because I was his Confirmation teacher!)

 photo from WalkingtheWalk.org

 

Indie Friendlie 

Indie Friendlie is my friend Byron Tully's 'baby'. With his beautiful wife, Darlene, and friend, Weathorford Bradley, he created this site to support and promote great filmmakers and great films, the ones without huge advertising budgets, the ones that get stomped on by the bullies with huge marketing campaigns, the ones left shivering in the cold outside of the theaters.

If you love independent film of any kind, go to the site and watch the clips from wonderful movies, documentaries and shorts they're spotlighting in their effort to give them "a voice, a face, an opportunity."

I've only watched one or two, but they were great. "Validation", a full length short, just made me smile and "The Inside Out Project" made me want to stand up, cheer and grab my camera.

Also, if you're a filmmaker, you can submit your own film to be showcased on Indie Friendlie. Click HERE for how-to's and guidelines.

Tully's a sweet kid, too, although I guess "kid" is a bit of a stretch since we went to high school together. He's also very, very funny.

(Full disclosure: Tully promised me one free margarita for every 1000 visitors his site receives from mine. So what are you waiting for? GO! And tell your friends to tell their friends!)

Oh, wait, before you go... What electrifies you? Share in the comments below...

 

Loving Me Some Pooh

“What day is it,?" asked Pooh.
"It's today," squeaked Piglet.
"My favorite day," said Pooh.”

 

 

The calendar says it's Tuesday, but it's Monday for me.

I'm already a day behind.

I arrived home late last night after a long, unplugged weekend, overflowing with friendship, laughter, tears, food, fellowship, sorrow, family, wine... (okay, and maybe a little tequila, too)...

There was my Diva gathering, a joyful experience.

Then Sunday morning a quick trip to Deer Park for the memorial service for another friend's husband who passed suddenly last week, a bittersweet time of memories, tears, hugs and laughter.

Afterwards, dinner on Clear Lake with another friend and her husband... sweet fellowship, delicious food and a glorious sunset.

The evening and the next day, hanging out with my parents (and a quick jaunt to see my sister)...a relaxing, heart-enriching time, just soaking up the sight of them.

But now, back home, back to "Normal", I'm drowning in laundry, unread emails, unread blogs, and unwritten words.  

So I'm going to take Pooh's attitude and be happy for today, just as it is. 

It's my favorite day!

Happy Monday, er, Tuesday!

(Thanks to Pete and Katie and others who reposted this on Facebook so I could see it!)

 

God Bless the Late Bloomers!

Those things, good Lord, that we pray for, give us the grace to labor for.

~St. Thomas More

 

It's inside of me. I can feel it pushing, trying to stretch and uncurl its petals, this flower of mine. This flower of Me.

Some days it's stronger than others and I feel it's almost there, almost free, but then it grows still, frozen by doubts. 

What will it look like, this composite of seeds blended together over a lifetime? Will one color dominate, washing out the others, or will they all be in there, a mish-mashed rainbow?

Will you be able to see the writer, who can't help but try to capture and direct the flood of words constantly streaming through her brain? The photographer who always has a camera pointed at the world, hoping to freeze what her eye sees? The re-awakened business person who sold lemonade and knick-knacks on her childhood curb? The personal historian who loves to ask nosy questions... who finds true life stories as fascinating as fiction?

I don't care. Just bloom, already!

These late-bloomers inspire and encourage me to keep trying...

Mary Wesley was in her fifties before she published her first book, one of several for children she wrote. She went on to write a novel, "Jumping the Queue," published in her seventies. It was rejected several times before MacMillan Publishers took a chance on it. By the time she died at ninety, she was a widely popular, successful writer.  

Harriett Doerr went back to college in her sixties, after her husband died. She published her first novel at seventy-three, "Stones for Ibarra," went on to write many novels, short stories and essays... and win the National Book Award.

Mary and Harriett make my 52 years feel younger than ever, God bless them!

Other late-blooming authors include Frank McCourt (60's), Richard Adams (50's), James Michener (40's - a spring chicken!), Laura Ingalls Wilder (60's) and Raymond Chandler (50's).

Although I started writing years ago, it's taken me until now to believe in myself enough to make it a priority over other parts of my life. Not necessarily a belief in any talent I might or might not have, but in my doggedness and desire to write, and the belief that those are the keys to success as much as, or maybe even more than, talent.

I'm just too stubborn to give up now. 

Ripped Apart and other Sweet!s of the Week

A collection of colorful bags and pieces of luggage grows beside me. Today's the day I take TG back to campus to start the spring semester. Wasn't it just a few days ago that we carried all of those bags down from the car?

Christmas break went by so fast. At the beginning of it I had two kids at home; soon it will be just me and Tom again. Sweet, yet bittersweet.

Sweet because, luckily, Tom and I enjoy being together - we easily fall back into our pre-kids selves. Bittersweet because I enjoy having the kids around, too, and not only for all the help they give us with dishes, dog care, laundry... although I do miss that, too.

This might have been the last long break TG spends with us. By this time next year, she'll be living in an apartment, probably working near campus through the break, coming home for a weekend every now and then. Sigh.

I'll take it a semester at a time, though, and right now I just pray this one will be the best ever for her.

Well, while I wait for her to finish packing, I'll tell you a little about my day yesterday, spent in the World of Writers.

I finally made it to a meeting of the Austin Chapter of the SCBWI (Society of Children's Book Writer's and Illustrators) held at BookPeople, a wonderful independent book store in downtown Austin. I don't think I've every met a friendlier group of strangers in my life - the support and encouragement was palpable!

I sat in the only open chair I spotted,  After introductions, I discovered the woman beside me, as well as the two directly behind me, all live just a few miles from me and are eager to form a writer's critique group.Talk about serendipity!

The first session of the meeting was a presentation by author Brian Yansky on plot, character and structure of your story. Some of it was knew to me... some I already know but don't necessarily put into practice... and that's why I need reminders like this, especially from successful authors who are willing to share what has worked for them. Judging by the others who were scribbling notes, I'm not the only one!

Next, a few of us went to the third floor for the open critique group... the part I had been most eager for! I passed out copies of my first two pages, cleared my throat, took a deep breath and read out loud while they followed along.

When I finished, I could see they were hesitant, not sure if I wanted brutal honesty or encouraging pats-on-the-back.

"Rip it apart!" I told them. I've read too many books lately that began with seeds of great stories, but because of neglected pruning, had grown into huge distracting messes. I don't want mine to end up that way!

So with my blessing they ripped it apart, so to speak. Some of what they mentioned I had already wondered about myself, but needed another opinion... which is why I was eager for the critique group. Other things were surprises, and so even more helpful.

A critique can be painful if you take it personally, but I look at it as a really good workout... tough to get through but so invigorating and energizing when it's all over... and the only way to get stronger.

We took turns reading and critiquing, everyone offering concrete constructive comments. Writer heaven!

After a quick break (I walked to Whole Foods and enjoyed a cup of tomato basil soup at a small table outside, great for people-watching!) we gathered on the third floor again. Two of the members had attended a recent Story Masters Workshop where they took pages and pages of notes, all of which they shared with us. 

Spending a day with such a great group of talented writers (many published authors in the group) who encourage and support each other... very sweet!

And now for some other sweet! moments of the past week... 

 

Monday: a fire in the woodburning stove on a cold, rainy day; cedar pollen that's been attacking your nose and making you want to scratch our your eyes washed from the air by the rain; finally meeting a previously only 'online' friend in person; loose ends neatly tied up; joining a writer's group, at long last, to help you with your book 

Tuesday: the moment when dark clouds break apart to reveal blue sky; frogs singing in the distance, grateful for the recent rain; watching "The 10th Kingdom" with your daughter; cell phones that allow you to talk to your mom and your dear friend, despite the miles between you

 

 

Wednesday: $300 worth of free jewelry, thanks to your party!; a Post of the Week award from Hilary for one of your photography posts; that sparkling-clean-teeth feeling you get after a trip to the dentist; a jingle-jangle in your pocket for stuff you didn't want anymore anyway  

Thursday: getting word that a sweet kid you know was found before you even knew he was missing; scratching things off of your list; finally fulfilling a months-old promise to a friend

Friday: a "Happy Anniversary" first thing in the morning from you sweetie before you even realize it's Friday the 13th; puppies stretched out comfy and warm on the laundry room floor on a below-freezing morning; shopping with your baby girl; getting $17 for from a local resale shop for things you were going to toss out; any Ryan Reynolds movie

Saturday: a day spent with writers; getting honest feedback and suggestions on your children's book-in-progress; tomato and basil soup outdoors on a gorgeous day; a walk at dusk beside a running brook; home-brewed beer; watching Harry Potter movies with your daughter

Sunday: a friend thinking of you when a job comes open; watching more Harry Potter movies with your daughter; a call from your mom

What were some of your sweet! moments in the past week? (I know you can come up with at least one!) Please share them here!

Ben's Story... When the Fantasy Ends and Heaven Begins

Ben Breedlove, an Austin teenager, died Christmas night. 

I didn't know him personally; in fact, I had never heard of him until this week. 

But after watching the videos below, I know I won't forget him or his sweet smile.

Ben had a heart condition called Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy; according to his videos, he had cheated death three times. The first time, when he was 4, he says he saw a bright light and felt a peace he never forgot. The second time...

...well, Ben tells it much better than I can. I urge you to watch these - the total time is less than 8 minutes, but if you're like me, it will be 8 minutes you'll carry with you the rest of your life, whether you remember the name Ben Breedlove or not.

(You can read Ben's obituary HERE.)

God's Little People

The world is a much smaller place than it used to be for me, thanks to blogging. I've connected with amazing people in so many different countries.

Through one of them  - Joan at God's Little People - I've become aware of the overabundance of stray cats in Greece. Joan is devoted to rescuing them, and her stories and photos both break and warm my heart.

After many of her readers asked how they could help with her rescue efforts, she came up with a fundraising idea: 

I am delighted to introduce these quality cards made from a selection of my favorite images of the cats that I have rescued and I love the idea of them now being part of raising funds for themselves. These cards are now listed in my Etsy shop and ALL proceeds goes towards food, neutering and medical care for all the cats (and the dumpster cats I daily feed). Winter has set in and feral cats just keeps dropping into the garden and I've finally given up counting the numbers! But I now daily feed approximately 45 cats and as you can imagine the cost constantly rise and I won't compromise on the quality of food. Many of the cats that live in the wild desperately needs a proper food to keep them warm. 

You can donate/purchase in the following way:

One large blank card with a colored image mounted on carton (that enhances the colors in the image)for $5  or a set of three small blank cards with black/white images mounted on black carton (and a white paper slip inside for your message) for $10. 

Whether it's one large card or a small set of three cards - they all come with white envelopes and a label on the back with the  Pythagoras quote I use under my blog title: "We share with animals the privilege of having a soul." Cards and envelopes are neatly tied with a burlap string and carefully wrapped in tissue paper. 

 

Visit Joan's Etsy Shop HERE and read more about Joan and her cats (including precious images of them) HERE.

(I'm not compensated for this post in any way except for the good feeling of potentially helping Joan help those sweet kittens.)

The Glad Game

My sweet sister, the very one who is still recovering from hip surgery and lives daily with Parkinson's, found out this week she has glaucoma. To treat it and save her eyesight, she'll need to put drops in her eyes every day for the rest of her life.

Listen to what she told me about it: "I read that if you have blue or green eyes, the drops might turn your eyes brown! I've always wanted brown eyes! And another side effect is that it will turn your eyelashes dark and thick. So now I'll have beautiful dark eyes!"

That's my sister.

She lives her life playing "The Glad Game". Like Pollyanna, (which we call her!) she is always able to find something good in every situation.

It took awhile, but her optimistic attitude finally started rubbing off on me, and oh my gosh, what a relief it is to recognize those blessings that are tucked into bad news.  

Playing the Glad Game isn't just about helping ourselves get through tough times, though. The best thing about it is how your joy and gratitude is contagious. It might be just the inspiration - the shining light - someone else needs to find their way out of personal darkness... pain, illness, loss of a loved one, discouragement, anger, financial problems...

There's so much potential darkness in this world trying to blind us to all that we have to be grateful for.

"...give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for us in Christ Jesus." 1 Thess. 5:18

I remember groaning when I read Corrie Ten Boom's description of the flea infestation in the concentration camp bunkroom, enough to turn their skin black when they entered the area to sleep, and I agreed with her that there was nothing about fleas to be grateful for. But urged by her sister Betsy (another Pollyanna-type, obviously), Corrie reluctantly told God thank you for the fleas.

When I read a little further how she realized it was because of the fleas that the guards wouldn't step foot in the bunkroom, allowing them freedom to hold prayer sessions and Bible readings and comfort each other through those dark days, a little light went on in my mind.

I'm grateful I was able to read their story - I'm grateful for that little light that now reminds me how, when something bad happens (and there are bad things - those fleas were bad!) God can squeeze something good out of the worst of things.

I'm reminded to give thanks in all circumstances, even if, like Corrie with the fleas, I'm not sure exactly why.

I'm still not as good with the Glad Game as my sister is, but I promise to keep practicing. I hope you'll play along. I think you'll like it.

Hope you have a blessed Thanksgiving!

 

Mama Taught Me... (Lesson #80)

Today is my mother's 80th birthday. 

A few years ago, in honor of her 77th birthday, I started compiling a list of things she has taught me. Each year since then, on her birthday, I've added to it. 

This year, I've had trouble with #80. Not trouble coming up with something - if my mother lives to be 1000 I could come up with something every year because I'm still learning from her. My problem has been narrowing it down to one thing.

I thought of Keep it simple when she insisted on celebrating with a quiet family dinner at Sudie's Catfish House, followed by cake at the house, instead of the big celebration with friends and extended family that my sister and I wanted to throw her.

I thought of Be someone others can depend on when I opened my eyes this morning in what used to be my grandmother's room in my parents' house, remembering how she moved in with us when I was two and, except for a few years, lived with Mama and Daddy until her death. It wasn't always an easy situation, but my mother was willing to make the sacrifice because she knew her mother needed her.

The colorful cards standing in formation on the sideboard, proclaiming happy birthday wishes from her kids, lifelong friends, nieces and nephews reinforced that one, reminding me of all the times over the years family dropped in unexpected or called for her advice. She never hesitated helping anyone.

She isn't a pushover - woe to anyone who tries to take advantage of her.  If someone is in need, they can count on her. I can't begin to count the ways or times she's caught me from falling. And after my sister's hip surgery this year, sheer love and determination gave Mama the strength to care for her.

I thought about how she has a way of seeing through a person, an ability to overlook flaws and see the good, and I remembered this quote:

“A friend is one to whom one may pour out the contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that gentle hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.” ~ George Eliot

That's my mother. She's been hurt and disappointed by people, but she doesn't hold one person's sins against another, and she's quick to forgive (if there's sincere repentance.)

The thing is, my mother is all of these things. She's dependable. She's forgiving. She loves with all her heart.

In essence, she knows people are more important than things. Her actions, her life, have always reflected this.

Thank you for all you do and for who you are, Mama! Happy birthday! I love you!

 

Things Mama has taught me...

1. it's never too late to learn something new
2. if you have a choice between laughter and tears, choose laughter.
3. don't let anyone mess with your babies!
4. only give advice when asked for it (I'm still working on that one)
5. pray every day
6. pray some more
7. reading a good book might not solve your problems, but it's a nice escape from them
8. bend but never break
9. some people are just takers
10. be nice whenever possible, but sometimes nice doesn't cut it
11. take care of family
12. we're all individuals - let your kids blossom into themselves, not "mini-me's"
13. be there
14. Johnny Weismuller is the best movie Tarzan
15. don't be in a rush to be older than you are - you're only going to be this age once in your life
16. if you like something, and you'll use it, and you can afford it, then buy it, or you'll regret it later
17. quality over quantity
18. never think "can't"
19. people will stand in line for a dead skunk if it's free
20. roll with the punches
21. have fun
22. laugh often
23. believe in yourself
24. don't let others change who you are
25. be honest
26. don't steal
27. forgive yourself
28. God loves me
29. don't judge
30. just do it!
31. inside matters more than outside
32. don't use God's name in vain
33. you can learn anything if you put your mind to it
34. you're never too old to dance
35. it's okay to ask for help
36. show appreciation and express gratitude
37. use my manners
38. consider the source
39. an office or position of authority should be respected, but the individual in that position has to earn your respect
40. sleep is good
41. take advantage of opportunities
42. keep your eyes open and your wits about you
43. people aren't always nice
44. things can't make you happy
45. use your imagination
46. just get started and the rest will be easy
47. don't be intimidated by anyone - we're all the same, all human, we all have strengths and weaknesses
48. you can love someone even if you don't like them
49. forgive but don't forget
50. learn from others' mistakes
51. there are times for being patient, and time for putting your foot down
52. speak up
53. stand up for what you believe in
54. admit your mistakes and expect others to do the same
55. persistance pays off
56. let your kids be kids
57. love unconditionally
58. take lots of pictures
59. kids grow up fast
60. your kids need a mother, not another friend
61. pets are family
62. help others
63. a sense of humor is essential for sanity and survival
64. if you look close enough, you can find something to love about everyone
65. coffee is good anytime
66. messes can be cleaned up
67. prayer works
68. God is strong all the time - let him carry you
69. if you say you're going to do something, do it
70. be nice to yourself in case no one else is
71. you have to show respect to get respect
72. girls are tough
73. don't put up with temper tantrums
74. listen to your body - doctors don't know everything
75. don't say everything you're thinking
76. asking questions is the best way to learn something
77. your babies are always your babies (and their babies are your babies, too!)
78. God is. 
79. Just listen. 
80. People are more important than things.