Long Hollow

On to the next holiday

                                                                             
It was good spending time with my family...finally celebrating Mama's birthday...getting to hug on Tommy...meeting his girlfriend's parents, her grandmother, sister, and cousin. I met my nephew's fiance, walked with Tom around my childhood neighborhood (seeing it with my ten-year-old eyes), and drooled over the photos from my sister's recent cruise to San Lucia, San Juan, and other beautiful, tropical places. Kendall and I ventured out into the stores on Friday, but not in the mad, early hour rush - we waited until mid-morning. We're not cutthroat shoppers. Daddy went with me Saturday morning to take pictures of my old chemical plant and the old Capitan Theater, where I spent tons of other Saturday mornings when I was growing up.                           

     But it's good to be home again, even though it means laundry and grocery shopping. I'm easing back into it - I watched "Tropic Thunder" with Tom last night - he even laughed a few times- then church this morning, and a walk with Tom and 'the boys' - Charly, Max, and Frankie- after lunch. I wish I had taken my camera...there was this perfect shot of Tom with the dogs on one side and Frankie on the other, all lined up, walking down our dirt road.

    Kendall and Daniel are watching a movie together right now, then I'm recruiting them to help me carry the boxes of Christmas decorations upstairs. It's that time again. When the first Advent candle was lit at church this morning, I asked God to help me stay focused on the true meaning of the season, and not get caught up stressing over decorations, cards, and gifts. I think there's a place for all of those, but if they push you across the stress line, then you've lost focus. With my screenplay and class portfolio due date zooming up on me, Boy Scout treasurer duties popping up, and Christmas details to tend to, it will be VERY easy for me to cross that stress line this week. I'm determined to fit some time in each day for reflection.

 

   

  

Happy Thanksgiving...

My kids are all here under one roof again...there's bickering, teasing, laughing, arguing...I've had coffee with my parents, helped my mom get the turkey into the oven, and soon my siblings and their families will crowd into the small house with us. We'll eat, laugh some more, argue some more, go for walks, watch football. It's Thanksgiving Day in the USA, and I'm remembering all I have to be grateful for - which is A LOT!

Thanksgiving Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.


Melody Beattie
American writer, present day

A Time for Thanks, Prayers, and Hugs

    Email can seem impersonal at times, but it's actually good when it's delivering sad news, like the death of a friend. You have time to look at the words, step back away from them, roll them around in your head and let them ease down into your heart.

    You don't have to come up with words right away - your brain can focus on the face of your friend,  on the memories, and on offering a prayer for his soul and for the consolation of his loved ones - those who didn't just have distant memories, but a place in their heart that only he could fill, a place that will be empty and aching for days, weeks, months, years.

    The email I received this morning letting me know that Wayne had died wasn't a surprise - I knew hospice had been called this week, knew that the cancer had already been declared victorious in this battle - but it still hit me with a jolt. I appreciated being able to slip gently into the knowledge.

    Tom and I will be staying in my childhood home the next few days, celebrating Thanksgiving with my parents, siblings, and our children. I'll be giving thanks for my family, for another chance to be with them and create another Thanksgiving memory with them. I'll be giving thanks for my friends and the closeness we still share. And I'll be praying for Wayne's family  - he was just 51 and leaves behind his mom, sister, and two kids, besides all of his friends. As you read this, please send up a prayer for them, too.

An Anniversary of Sorts

    For the past few weeks, my mind has skipped back and forth from the present to the late 1800s...I've been separating my great-great-grandfather's memoir into fluorescent colors - green is his life from his first step across the Red River into Texas, through the Indian Wars and his cowboy days; orange takes over during the Civil War, Reconstruction, and his two years in prison, interspersed with pink for love and family; and yellow is reserved for the last chapter of his life, when he tried to piece it all back together, finally learning to accept things the way they were and make the most of it.

    I didn't think very much about the colors - except for pink, of course - but I realize there is some significance in my choices. Both green and orange are yellow plus another color, so yellow is a good color for the time in his life when he rids himself of illusions and extras, down to the essence of himself that was there all along, his true self....

    As I read and re-read the words he wrote in 1901, I try to decipher what he's really saying, what he's leaving out and why. I try to see what he describes through his eyes, and then from the eyes of his friends, loved ones, and even his enemies. It's tough...meaning, it's tough to imagine living through all of it. I have to take lots of breaks, pull myself out of it and think about what I'm reading, try and put it into perspective.

    The first time I read his memoir, I couldn't put it down. I read it straight through. I was pretty familiar with Texas history and the Civil War, had read a lot of books, visited the battlegrounds, watched the documentaries and movies, but his words brought it all to life in a way I couldn't have imagined possible. It was liking stepping through a portal into that time of violence. Through his words and descriptions, I could see it, and much of it broke my heart. That's when I got the idea to turn it into a screenplay.

    It has taken another five or six years now...maybe even more...for the next step - actually trying to write it. And as with most things, it's turning out to be a little more complicated than I thought it would be. But I'm optimistic and determined. His life was full of tragedy, but in writing his memoir he hoped to send a message, warning others not to make the same mistakes he made. I want to help him get the message out, and at the same time make sure his loyalty, love, courage and strength of character aren't buried beneath his flaws along the way in the telling. Wish me luck!

    By the way, today is the 114th anniversary of the day he was released from prison. In his words..."Freedom! Oh! Freedom is so sweet to a man!"

    Today I'm grateful for my freedom...that I live in America...that my cousin found this memoir so we could all finally read it...for my great-great-grandfather's willingness to share his story so many years ago...for the chance to finally try to turn it into a movie or book so others can learn from his life the way he hoped.

An Unlikely Walking Partner

    When I first moved here, I would head to the park by Lake Travis every morning to walk with a group of other moms for about an hour. It was therapy AND exercise, in a beautiful setting. But gradually, the group dissipated as our lives grew busier.

    Charly, and then Max, too, became my walking partners. They're pretty good as far as motivating me to get my butt moving goes - that guilt thing they can do with their eyes - and they're pretty good company - VERY good listeners - if they don't streak off into the woods after a deer or rabbit. But our conversations are pretty much one-way. Okay, all one way, unless you count joyful glances and tail wags that say "Oh boy, we're going for a walk! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" as conversation.

    This morning I had a new walking partner, one that chattered the whole way: Frankie, the guinea fowl. Usually he drops off about 100 feet down the road, but this morning he went with me almost the whole mile.  The dogs had disappeared into the woods early on, so I was glad for the company.

    I actually turned back before the half-mile point - I started worrying about him. But I shouldn't have - he kept up his quick trot all the way back to the house and didn't seem winded at all! In fact, he reminded me of one of those Secret Service agents that run ahead of the president's car - jogging along, looking left and right, left and right, keeping an eye out for danger.   My guard guinea in action.

Michael's house

     It's just a small white frame house tucked on a quiet residential street near downtown Austin. A small white house with a red door, surrounded by oak trees, just two driveways down from a busy street, but that's far enough to feel a million miles away from the world where everyone is rushing to get somewhere else.

    This little house where Michael works is like an eye in a storm, an oasis in a desert...an indulgence I am going to cling to after years and years of not caring and not pampering. Good music plays in the background, the soft scent of candles fills the rooms, and Michael REALLY looks at my hair, plays with it, listens to me...I can tell he's focused on me and my hair, what will look the best, how he should cut it.  It helps that the shampoo by Clint includes a five-minute neck and head massage.   

    For almost twenty years, friends cut and colored my hair. Sometimes I let them experiment with different products or fit someone in ahead of me in exchange for free or discounted cuts.  The problem with friends cutting your hair is that you start taking each other for granted. It can turn into another chore or errand, something you have to fit in - not something you look forward to.

    To save even more money, Tom cut my hair for a few years. I got a lot of complements - he did a good job - but he only knew one style, and my hair and I finally got tired of it. And it was really hard to schedule an appointment!    

     The first time I went to Michael, I felt guilty spending so much on my hair. I mean, I'll be the first to admit I don't have great hair - I never have - but as I age it gets thinner and thinner (just like my grandmother's - she resorted to tight little perm curls to make her hair look thicker.) In a way, it seemed like a waste of good money, although from what I hear, I'm paying about the same as my friends on their cuts. It just seems like a lot after all those years of cutting corners.

     Anyway...it only took one or two visits (and shampoos) to convince myself that it's even more important now than ever before to get a really good cut and color treatment. I've got to take care of the little bit I have left. Besides, everyone deserves to be pampered every once in a while. In my case, every seven to eight weeks...

(Thanksgiving is coming up. This week I'll think of five things every day that I'm grateful for...today I'm grateful for Michael, Clint, Kimmy who gave me Michael's number, my new job that pays more so I feel less guilty about my haircut, the fact that I still have hair, and for the beautiful golden and red-leafed trees decorating the hills right now making it a pleasure to drive anywhere.)

Finally!

    A new first for me yesterday - instead of zooming past with my good intentions still tucked in my purse because I'm already late for a soccer game or something and just don't have time, I finally visited the organic vegetable farm stand in Jonestown. Angel Valley Organic Farm has been operating this stand every Saturday morning for about five years, and for about that long, I've been intending to visit it. But if I'm not sticking close to home on Saturdays, I'm in a rush to get somewhere.

    I have to admit...up until a couple of years ago, I wouldn't have appreciated these gorgeous veggies, anyway. I wasn't as concerned about my health and nutrition, and my taste buds were numb from too much sugar and salt. I preferred my veggies deep-fried, dipped in ranch dressing!  

    But still, I always wanted to stop and see what they had to offer. Yesterday, I was on my way to the grocery store when I spotted the stand and realized I finally had the time. They were about to close it down for the day, and a lot of the produce was already gone (romaine, broccoli, and orange cauliflower), but I found plenty to buy - some butterhead and green leaf lettuce, arugula, sweet turnips (she talked me into these, swearing they taste nothing like regular turnips - and she's right!), and a sweet green pepper with a name I can't remember.

      Now my refrigerator is overflowing with healthy green stuff. I just wish I wasn't the only one in the house who'll eat it...I'll feel like a rabbit before it's all gone!

Frankie and Others, Up Close and Personal, by Kendall

    Kendall borrowed my camera the other day, something to do with an assignment in Environmental Science, and zoomed in on our little world...she took the best close-up picture of Frankie I've seen yet (how did she get him to stay still long enough?), a good one of our old Charly gazing up at her with adoring eyes, and also some good shots of a couple of green-spotted beetles that were probably doing damage to my loquat tree, but, oh, well...they looked really cool - I love that combination of green and black. There were also some pictures of a moth (also dining at the Loquat Cafe), but it was just your average gray moth...so I didn't include those.

    Kendall rarely uses a camera, but I think she has a natural eye for a good shot. I'd be jealous but she's my daughter, so instead, I'm proud and bragging! Enjoy!

 

 

 

 

Evolution of a Spanish Teacher

    I can feel myself changing as I get closer to fifty - I think a lot about what to do with my time once my nest is really empty in a few months. That's not so unusual. I think it happens to most of us, men and women, when we hit this Midlife Adventure.

    When my kids were small, most of my time was spent volunteering in one way or another (or actually several ways all at once.) As we all got older, I worked more and more (for money!) and volunteered less and less. And now, when I think of what I'd like to do with my time, most of my ideas are centered around ME - finishing MY degree, writing MY book/screenplay/short stories/articles/essays, playing MY drums...

    In contrast to my self-centered empty-nest plans, about a year ago, my kids' high school Spanish teacher took an early retirement to become a missionary in Honduras. Now every month she emails a newsletter detailing her trials and achievements, prayers and blessings (here's the latest edition...Download november_2008_honduras_newsletter.pdf)

    This month she talks about the village of San Lorenzo and shows pictures of the girls carrying water in large buckets on their heads and a ten-year-old boy driving an ox cart. I can sense the self-confidence and joy she's gained from her time in Honduras, her knowledge that she's making such a huge difference in the lives of those she is there to help.

    I'm thinking I need to add a few goals to my Empty-Nest List...some that don't have the words ME or MY in them...

Thinking of Annie K.

    Every morning when I sit down with my coffee and Pepperidge Farm Cinnamon Swirl toast, I'm transported back to the front porch of this quaint Victorian house in Weston, Missouri...

    Suddenly, it's not 5 am in my quiet, chilly kitchen, but midmorning on a sunshine-filled day in spring - still a little chilly, though, because it's Missouri, and the sun doesn't reach me where I sit with Ann K., enjoying our breakfast (Cinnamon Swirl toast and coffee, of course!) and reminiscing about high school and who knows what else we talked about during those days in 1995 when I was lucky enough to stay with her. Our friend, Ann L., was getting married that weekend on a hillside next to an old farmhouse at sunset. I overcame my fear of flying and missed Daniel's kindergarten play to be there. I HAD to be there.

    The wedding was wonderful, but staying with Ann K. was definitely a highlight. She and her husband Bob had renovated the old house (that used to be a dream of mine, but I'm WAY over it after building this one!) and Ann had decorated it beautifully with antiques and artwork. Here's a picture of us in Ann K.'s house, toasting Ann L.'s upcoming wedding in 1995 (left to right, Rhonda from Phoenix, Ann L., Ann K., pregnant with baby #3, and me.)

    When Tom and I were in the middle of our own building project, Ann K. sent me lots of encouraging emails, helping me believe that there really would be an end to the building frustration and madness someday,  and that one day I'd even look back on the experience and laugh...about parts of it, at least.

    We were friends in high school, but grew closer in the years after graduation, like so many others. I can't remember the last time I saw her, though - it's been WAY too long. She's a gypsy - she and Bob left Weston and have bounced between Texas and Colorado for several years, with a stop in Hawaii stuck in there somewhere. Right now she's in Glenwood Springs, Colorado - the proud owner of a little shop (go here to read all about it and see pictures in my other Ann's blog. She spent a few days there helping Ann get it ready to open for the first time.)

    She turned 50 this week - she reported back that it was a wonderful birthday - she and Bob escaped to a hotel in Denver. I can't wait to see what she has up her sleeve for the next 50 years - no doubt about it...they will be filled with art and adventure.  Happy birthday, Annie!

The Odd Couple in My Kitchen

    I don't claim to be a decorator. My house is filled with an odd assortment of things...things that I just like, sometimes for sentimental reasons (LOTS of photos and souvenirs), but sometimes, just because. Think extreme eclectic.

    On my kitchen window sill I've lined up some things I just like to look at...handpainted Easter eggs from my mother, a handpainted bottle from my friend Cheryl, a gnome lady I bought somewhere thirty years ago in my Elves, Gnomes, and Wizards stage, some antique teacups my wonderful mother-in-law gave me. And then there are garage-sale treasures like you'll see below...something about them caught my eye and I had to have them. I just thought I'd share them and see if anyone else sees what I see in them...

    My little French wino and his cat corkscrew and bottle opener set - for one thing, it's just so kitschy! But he has such a joyous expression on his face! He reminds me to relax and enjoy life. I think I found him at the Lion's Club garage sale for a quarter several years ago. I snatched him up right away. I didn't even drink wine back then!

    This Mary and Baby Jesus flower pot is "new" - I bought her last month at our church Oktoberfest garage sale for a dime (everything is so cheap at our church garage sales!) I actually passed her up the first time - I'm trying to break my "junk" habit - but I had to go back and get her. Her face is so peaceful. And I loved the soft colors and lines. But what to do with that holder thing in the back? I'm not one for flowers in the house - fake ones are...fake, and real ones die too soon. Then it hit me - what a perfect place for Frankie's feathers!

Ready for a Texas Winter

    Tom was busy on his days off last week...cutting, splitting, and stacking our oak woodpile. I helped a little - a VERY little - with the stacking. I had lots to do inside, but the sky and sunshine called me - it was just too pretty to stay indoors.

 

 

    The first fire of the season...Tom designed the house and the position of our wood-burning stove just right - all we need is this stove to keep the house toasty warm (sometimes sweatin' hot!) We haven't used the house heater in two or three winters. Maybe it wouldn't be enough farther north, but for us, it's perfect.

Book Babes and Kirby's 21st Birthday

    I think I have a new favorite blog - Book Babes. I admit I haven't read that much of it, but how can I resist a blog about BOOKS and MIDLIFE? Granted, I don't have much time to read, but that makes their blog even better - they do the screening for me and pick out books that I'll probably like, because...let's face it, I'm almost 50 and about as midlife as a woman can be.

    It's been a full day...early Mass so I could fit the grocery store in before Kendall's soccer game (they beat the Pumas for the first time, 3-1!! And yes, I lit a candle...) A beautiful sunset in the hills, grilled pork chops from Tom, the first fire of the season in our wood-burning stove, an exciting Desperate Housewives episode, and now a new favorite blog! A very good day, indeed...

    It's also Tommy's girlfriend Kirby's 21st birthday. He drove to Lubbock this weekend to help her celebrate and is now on his way back home to Dallas. So HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KIRBY!

 

She sent me this picture of them at the University of Texas vs. Texas Tech game a couple of weekends ago...Texas Tech (her school) won. Normally, I'd be rooting for UT, but Kirby's enthusiasm is contagious, so I'm happy that Tech won, for her sake. Sort of like an early birthday present, right?

Lighting Candles for More Than Birthdays

    Monday after work I made a beeline to the church to light a candle. I normally light one after Mass every Sunday, but this past Sunday I was at Mama and Daddy's Baptist church.  No candles.

    I like the Catholic tradition of lighting prayer candles - the idea of a continuous flame pointing up to God, carrying my prayers to him 24/7, even when I get busy or distracted or fall asleep. And by lighting a candle, I recruit the whole congregation to pray with me for whatever is in my heart - sorrow, worry, or gratitude. It seems the older I get, the more there is to pray about. Perhaps I'm just finally learning to turn to God for everything.

    It would have been easy to just skip this week...but on Monday morning I learned that a friend's son had been rushed to the hospital over the weekend with necrotizing fasciitis - flesh-eating bacteria. He was in really bad shape. Then I learned that another friend's cancer had returned.

    There were some up moments, too...lots of birthdays. I couldn't be with my mother on hers, but I'm grateful I got to spend time with her on Sunday, and see her again on Thanksgiving. There was my friend Howard's, which made me think about and give thanks for those friendships from the plant that I've been able to hang on to for so long.

    My thoughts about those friendships must have sent out some kind of wavelength - I heard from two more of those guys this week. Larry sent me Halloween photos of his granddaughter Sophie. I do hear from him pretty often. But the other one, Cliff, I haven't heard from in years. He sent me pictures of his family, their new house, and his 'mid-life crisis' car - a 2007 blue Mustang. Cliff is one of the funniest guys I've ever known - deadpan delivery and perfect timing.  

    Another friend celebrated her 81st birthday this week...Jean was my 8th grade English teacher. I learned so much from her about writing that year - she took the time to offer real critiques and comments - encouragement rather than discouragement. I still have the papers! She goes to church with my mom, and that's how we were able to become friends after all this time. Life is funny! I got to see her this past Sunday, too. 

    One of my high school friends turned 50 - he is living my dream - after years of working at a chemical plant, he went back to college and got a double degree in English and  History, and now he's a graduate student working in a Creative Writing program. He totally surprised everyone! I don't begrudge him - I'm glad someone is able to fulfill my dream! And it inspires me that I'm not too old to keep trying.

    I had some more sad news last night, though. One of my high school friends lost their mom this week. I feel so bad for him, and even more grateful and fortunate that I still have mine with me.

    I haven't heard any more about my friend with cancer - but every day my other friend continually reported good news about his son. He finally made it out of intensive care before this weekend.

    Last night I went shopping with Kendall and we shared spinach quesadillas at a Mexican food restaurant - good relaxed time together that we don't have very often anymore, just the two of us. And this morning I woke to a beautiful autumn day - brilliant blue sky and tons of sunshine. I'm sure this coming week will have its share of worry and sorrow, but today I'm optimistic.

    I'll still be lighting a candle tomorrow.

    

Mama Taught Me...

   There is no doubt in my mind that, given the right circumstances, my mother could have been anything she wanted to be - teacher, doctor, lawyer, CEO, President of the United States - and she would have been the best. Instead, she chose to be my mom. For that I am eternally grateful. And of course, she is the best.

     In honor of her birthday today, I started compiling a list of things she has taught me...sometimes in words, but also from watching her. It's in no way complete...she's still teaching me! So I'm stopping at 77 (you can guess why...)

 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!)

I love you, Mama!! Happy Birthday!! ...and thank you...

 

 

 

 

 

 

Connected by Catwalks - Remembering a Previous Life

Today is my friend Howard's birthday. I have no idea how old is he, except that he's older than me. Everyone I worked with at the chemical plant was older than me, at least for the first half dozen years.

    (Here he is at a shift picnic back in 1980...look how young he is and I was younger than him!!)

I'll always be grateful to Howard - he supported me when I refused to run certain tests in the lab on the residual oil unless we could do them under a ventilation hood. I was pregnant and no job was worth the potential risk to my baby. I caught some flak for my concerns, but Howard sent me a note letting me know he thought they were legitimate and he appreciated me speaking up on behalf of the lab techs.

Howard and I also shared the same taste in books, mostly historical fiction it seems. That was back when I had time to read...

I was lucky to get that job, to work with the people that I worked with. While most of my classmates were coming-of-age away at college, I was learning about life while working twelve-hour shifts with an eclectic, colorful, international group of all ages and backgrounds...men, women, gay, straight, Texans, Yankees, Catholic, Protestant, Buddhist, whites, blacks, Hispanics, Native Americans, Vietnamese, Chinese...with educational backgrounds ranging from high school to not-quite-doctorate...and all of us doing the same job.

Now that was an education!

It could be fun, but danger always lurked just under the surface. Howard got knocked off his bicycle during a huge explosion in 1985. I wrote about that and what it was like working at the plant in my first essay, A View from a Catwalk, published in 1991. 

Holidays at the plant were great - an international smorgasborg! My recipe box is full of names from the past..."Terry Boer's Chicken and Rice Casserole," "Larry Corona's Manicotti," "Hoi Tran's Butterfly Shrimp." If we begged him, Oscar would bring in homemade tamales, but I really regret now that I never tried Hien Huynh's homemade eggrolls. I just didn't appreciate Asian food yet.

I've kept in touch with many of those friends/brothers, although I rarely see them. In my mind, they all still look whatever age they were when I walked out of the plant almost eighteen years ago, right after my youngest was born. My husband Tom had graduated and gotten a job and I wanted to stay home with my babies.

One friend, Scott, recently sent me this picture of him with Jim and Hien in the control room. It didn't even hit me at first that it was a photo from the '80's, because this is the way I still picture them... 

The last time I saw Howard was about six years ago at his daughter's high school graduation (she was in my niece's class.)

But I saw another friend, Ky Tien, last year at his son's wedding outside of Austin. He hadn't changed much in fifteen years... well, maybe a little more gray hair.

Now I get photos of grandkids. Ky, a father of seven sons, is grandfather to a half dozen granddaughters and just one grandson. I wonder if he's told them all that story about how he learned English from Reader's Digest magazines?

There was talk of a reunion a few years ago, but it never happened. Since then accidents, cancer, and heart attacks have taken some away - I wish so much I could have seen the ones who have passed just one more time. 

Many of the original group have just disappeared, but one thing's for sure...they're all safely tucked away in my heart and my memory, along with gratitude that my life intersected theirs, at least for a little while.

Salute a Veteran Today

    For an hour this afternoon I sat on the hard bleachers of our high school gym listening to speeches by high school students, patriotic music from the elementary school choir and high school band, and tales of heroism and service summed up in thirty words or less for dozens of area veterans showcased in folding seats of honor on the gym floor. Each is honored individually and given a carnation - a small token in consideration of their sacrifice, but, sadly, probably more than they get the rest of the year.

    This is one thing our small district does right, and each year I'm so impressed by the program, organized by students, and by the respect that the students crowding into the bleachers across from me show the veterans and the speakers.   

   Something brings me to tears each time. This year it was a speech given by a student whose Marine father was killed in Iraq three years ago. She eloquently described the challenges of growing up with a patriotic, demanding Marine father (ever see "The Great Santini" with Robert Duvall?), and the difficult transition from military to civilian life after his death. This girl has a future as a writer, that's for sure.

    Another student, on ordinary days dressed in tight skater jeans, today wore a new suit and quoted both Robert E. Lee and Winston Churchill. And yet another told the story of her grandfather who was killed in the Viet Nam War, on a mission that he knew he probably wouldn't survive.

    Each year the band plays the Armed Forces Salute - the veterans stand during their respective branch's song while we all applaud. Taps, today played by a fourteen-year-old redhead, brings the program to a close, and signals the guests to move to the foyer for refreshments served by more students.

    That's what I like most about this - the students and veterans coming together for a moment - the students having a chance to see beyond the gray hair, potbelly, or cane of the veterans, and realize they were young once, too. For their part, the veterans get a chance to see the students in their world, see that the future is in good hands...hands and minds that won't forget the sacrifices that were made to retain the freedom we all enjoy.

    Each year I think, Dang it, I should have gotten my dad or Tom or his dad to be here today. My dad was in the Navy; Tom was in the Coast Guard; his dad was career Air Force, along with three of Tom's brothers. Another brother was also Coast Guard and one Army Reserves. Both of my brothers are veterans - one Navy, one Army. Two nephews were in the Navy; Tom's godson - another Tom Shallue - is an officer in the Air Force, his sister is enlisted, and their cousin is in the Coast Guard.

    I'm ashamed to say I never tell them thank you. I never think of it until Veteran's Day, and I think most of us are that way. Good thing we have a special day to remind us.

 What a cruel thing is war: to separate and destroy families and friends, and mar the purest joys and happiness God has granted us in this world; to fill our hears with hatred instead of love for our neighbors, and to devastate the fair face of this beautiful world...Robert E. Lee

 Never, never, never believe any war will be smooth and easy, or that anyone who embarks on the strange voyage can measure the tides and hurricanes he will encounter. The statesman who yields to war fever must realize that once the signal is given, he is no longer the master of policy but the slave of unforeseeable and uncontrollable events...Winston Churchill

Ye Olde Renaissance Festival 2008

    It's been almost thirty years since my first trip to the Renaissance Festival north of Houston, and I've been back just about every year since. It's changed a bit over the years, but then, so have I... 

    I have dozens and dozens of photos from past years...starting with my pre-Tom life, my early-Tom days (including the day he proposed), and on through each of our kids at stair-step ages. So of course, I had to take lots more this past weekend...  

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Delicious Autumn

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it.

~George Eliot British writer, 19th century

    What a beautiful weekend! And what a perfect way to spend it...wandering the streets of medieval Europe, even if it's really just a make-believe village set in the thick woods north of Houston, and the buildings are really only thirty years old. Music, wine, art, entertainment, fireworks. Pictures will come later.

    Today I had my parents all to myself - first church, then lunch at Applebee's, then lots of coffee and conversation before I had to head back home, driving due west, straight into a glorious pink, purple, and orange sunset. Delicious autumn!

    

Another Last

     Tonight I watched Kendall in her last marching band performance. I felt a mixture of relief and wistfulness...I've spent most of my autumn Friday nights and Saturdays the last few years helping the band. It's a lot of work. My heart went out of it last year, partly because of school district politics, and it just hasn't been the same. But watching them tonight, I remembered all the time spent with her, and I'm grateful I was a part of it.

    Last week MIGHT have been my last Race for the Cure (Kendall says she might do it next year.) She took off with her friends, and I was left to wander through downtown Austin alone in a crowd of thousands. It was wonderful.I stopped at Starbucks (and ran into Kendall!) for coffee to warm and wake me, then enjoyed strolling and taking photos of the buildings along Congress. But I think next year I'll pay the extra ten bucks and Sleep in for the Cure.

 

 

 

    Tomorrow is my last trip to the Renaissance Festival outside of Houston with the high school history club. This will be my sixth or seventh year in a row. I managed to get out of shuttling kids this time, so I'll be free afterwards to head to my parents' for the night. I'm taking advantage of every chance I get to see them.

    Have a beautiful weekend!

I Have a Similar Dream

Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. (Martin Luther King Jr., letter from Birmingham Jail 1963)    

    When Daniel was a high school senior, he applied to five or six colleges, public and private. He had worked hard and was accepted into all of them. He received large academic scholarship offers from each of the private schools...except for one. His first pick. He was disappointed, because there was no way we could afford it otherwise, and at this particular school, academic scholarships are only offered to incoming freshman. If you don't get it then, forget it.

    His disappointed turned to frustration and anger, though, when through the grapevine of our small school, he discovered that two of his friends, both smart and gifted, but without Daniel's level of academic achievement, had each been offered large academic scholarships to this same college.

    At the urging of the boys' moms, friends of mine, I contacted the admissions counselor. In a nutshell, she conceded that the boys' African-American heritage played a big role in the scholarship offers. They ended up offering Daniel a smaller scholarship (they had run out of scholarship money), but by then he had a bad taste in his mouth for the college. Instead, he went with his second pick - UT - which he absolutely loves. So it worked out.

    Except...I grew up in the sixties and seventies witnessing the Civil Rights struggles, sympathizing and getting angry about injustices, gaining inspiration from Martin Luther King, Jr.'s speeches, agreeing that all men (and women) are created equal and should be treated as such.

    I read The Autobiography of Malcolm X. I angrily castigated some welders years ago for bragging about harassing African-Americans they saw walking down a sidewalk. I worked with and made friends with people of all different nationalities and ethnic backgrounds. I had worked hard to bring my children up to be color-blind, and had done a good job. 

    But this experience left a mark on all of us. Obviously, there was still discrimination and racial injustice in our country, and not just against minorities. My son became a victim of it, too, only how could we protest without being labeled racists ourselves? 

    And then, after this election, I was reminded of it again when it became obvious by the news coverage and interviews that many (not all) voted for Obama because of his skin color. I'm sure many voted against him for the same reason (although obviously not as many), and it just makes me sad, either way, especially when King's "I Have a Dream" speech was being quoted along with the admissions...

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."

   I have a dream, too...that someday soon everyone will be judged on a level playing field, with no consideration at all of the color of their skin, their religion, their gender, their heritage, their eye color, height, weight, or anything else. I hope Obama's election helps make this come true, somehow.

   I don't think King's dream will be fulfilled until mine is.

Chasing Ghosts, Texas Style

    Saturday night I wandered through dark Austin streets...the old parts, full of history...quite often tragic history. I was on an Austin Ghost Tour, Halloween version. It wasn't a BOO! type of ghost tour, although it did feel a little creepy at times, just standing near spots where murders have occurred (Austin is the proud home of the VERY FIRST SERIAL KILLINGS!) or ghosts have been seen. There's the funeral parlor owner who still hangs around his building, now a photography studio...the little girl who is seen and heard playing ball in the bathroom near the bar in the Driskill Hotel...the package-laden woman who committed suicide in the Driskill just a decade or so ago. Ghosts love the Driskill...our guide told us it ranks nationally!  (For more about the stories or how to go on a ghost tour yourself, click on this link for Haunted Texas.)

    I had wanted to do this for a long time...but, of course, never got around to it, and probably never would have if those wonderful teenagers hadn't thought of it and TG didn't agree it was okay if I tagged along. I'm going to miss school field trips.

    It figures that when I finally make it to Sixth Street on a Saturday night, I'm chaperoning a group of high school seniors.

   So here are a few photos from Saturday night, hanging out with the history club (and maybe a few ghosts!)...

At the Driskill Hotel...the history club members, their guide and a portrait of Col. Jesse Driskill keeping an eye on them...The Driskill is absolutely gorgeous and I'd still risk seeing a ghost to stay there sometime...just not Room 429! 

Sixth Street on a Saturday night, at last!

The front of the Driskill...according to our guide, Nathan, one of the ghosts likes to sit in a rocker on one of the balconies...

Yes, He Did!

    It wasn't really a surprise, Obama winning the election. I'm curious to see if things change as promised...I've already heard him say something about 'maybe next term'...

    I also wonder how long this honeymoon period (when everyone in the media wants to be his best friend) will last?   

    But life goes on...one change for me is I'm playing my drums again...two days in a row for about five minutes each. Yesterday it was to Boston's "Don't Look Back" and today to "Sandy" by Bruce Springsteen. That's more than I've played in a good six months.

   (I use the term "played" very loosely - mostly it's just a lot of noise. If someone listened from outside, they'd think "construction project", not "rhythmic music." That's why I can only play when I'm alone. But it's a GREAT stress-reliever!)

    Another change for me...with any collection, there comes a time for culling, and that 's what I've done with my job collection. I'm down to just two - I had to let my subbing jobs go, at least for now. It's one of those weird things...I'd go months without working at either one, but now that I have an almost fulltime job, I'm getting called all the time.

    Ah, Brucie's singing "Rosalita" right now...I know what I'll be playing to tomorrow...

Election Day AT LAST!

    First of all, if you haven't voted, DO IT NOW! I was an early bird this year - I didn't want to take any chances. My day can take twists and turns I never anticipate, and I couldn't afford to procrastinate on this.

    That being said...I am SO glad election day is finally here. By this time tomorrow we'll know who won. No more campaigning for at least a few months.

    I'm an independent - a liberal conservative or conservative liberal, I haven't figured out which. I voted McCain-Palin because of the issues...not because of race as I've been accused (as a group, not individually.) I would have voted for Condoleeza Rice in a heartbeat. 

    If Obama wins the election, I'm not going to wail and cry and pull out my hair and leave the country. I think it's great that so many Americans are passionate about this election and seem to be embracing their role in the government by voting, but I worry about tomorrow. I hope the passion stays in the right place, and it isn't wasted on anger, hatred, or fear. We should be passionate about being Americans and draw together, move forward no matter who gets elected, because it doesn't end with the election. I hope everyone continues to stay involved and be informed and passionate and outspoken on all levels of our government - from local to national. 

    The President isn't the government. We, the American People, are the government. It's in our power to make this country great...or not.

Mapping Our Lives and (not quite) meeting Moose

    Maps are of time, not place. Maps show not only where we're headed, but they show us where we've been. Without them we would not only lose our way, but our past as well.

    No, I didn't write that. I stole it from the home page of the Save Texas History link from the Texas General Land Office Archives and Records web page . They give credit to English poet Henry Reed.

    I went to the Texas Book Festival in downtown Austin this afternoon (picking Daniel up from UT along the way), but instead of coming home with books, I carried copies of historical maps...Texas in 1874 and Austin in 1895. There were two or three others that I wanted as well, but I tried to exert a LITTLE control and common sense. One was an 1851 map for German immigrants - I was SO close to getting that one, too (a family history thing) but I can go to the website later and order it.

    I've been wanting a large framed early map of Texas for a long, long, LONG, time. This one isn't framed, which is why I could afford it ($20 for each map.) I succumbed to my greed because my purchase is helping to SAVE TEXAS HISTORY! It's part of an historic preservation program of the Texas General Land Office. I will also use it as reference for my screenplay...the 1895 Austin map, too, which is really cool - it isn't just a road map...it's a "bird's eye view" with sketches of the buildings ON the roads.   

    I could never really explain why I'm drawn to old maps - I think they're beautiful...pieces of art...but I knew that wasn't the only reason. Finally, thanks to Reed, there are words for my feelings.

    However, I didn't go to the Book Festival for the maps - that was a bonus! I went to listen to a panel about writing memoirs which included Stephanie Klein, author of Straight Up and Dirty, and Moose, and the blog, "Greek Tragedy." I hoped to meet her afterward at the book signing, but Daniel hadn't eaten yet, and I was already hungry again. By the time we found something to eat and made our way to the book-signing tent, Stephanie and the other panel authors - Jeannie Ralston, Stephanie Elizondo Griest, and Robert LeLeux - were already gone.

    Their inspiration lingers...I feel little idea seeds for a couple of memoirs sprouting in my brain. But first there's this screenplay, and my children's book, and a couple of short stories...

Matewan Revisited and Another Saturday

    Last Saturday, I slept until 11am and got nothing else done. That was okay. But this week my to-do lists are weighing heavier and heavier on my shoulders. I'm sinking...DROWNING...

    So this Saturday I'm kicking into high gear, pencil out, ready to start scratching things off and burning the lists.  Heck, I'm so pumped, I didn't even wait until today. I skipped job #2 yesterday and got started early. This feeling doesn't come around that often (for the mundane little details that start filling in space on my lists...those things that don't have deadlines and so keep getting shuffled from one list to the next until I feel that if I have to write them one more time I'm going to SCREAM...) so I have to take advantage of it when it hits. I had been trying to decide whether to drive to Florence for the high school football game - the band got to dress in their costumes - or go to a friend's Halloween party/bonfire. I was leaning toward the party, but Tom came home wiped out and went to bed.  So I just kept working on my list...

    I was so energized, I even tried watching Matewan again last night (I need to return it to Netflix before they send a cop around,) armed with a big bowl of popcorn to keep me awake. But...once the popcorn was gone, that foggy feeling hit me and I gave up.

    This morning I feel revved up again about attacking the list.  It helped that Kendall had to be up early to take the SAT Math Subject test.  Now it's not even 10 am and my list is already considerably shorter. Some of these things don't really take very long to do...it's the getting started part that's tough for me.

    Today is it, though. Looking at the calendar, it will be awhile before I have another big chunk of empty, unscheduled time. Tonight I get to go with Kendall's History Club on the Austin Ghost Tour! I'm SO excited about that! I love history...especially odd, personal history that I'm sure we'll hear about tonight. Maybe even something I can use in my screenplay.

    Tomorrow morning I'll be back downtown bright and early for the Susan B. Komen Race for the Cure - a VERY good cause, but I wish it wasn't so early in the morning. I hate missing church.

    Then, fingers crossed, back downtown AGAIN in the afternoon for the Texas Book Festival.

    Next weekend is another History Club field trip to Houston for the Renaissance Festival, and, I'm hoping, a visit to my parents (just us, not the whole History Club. My parents aren't THAT old!) Then the next weekend is Kendall's CAYSA tournament - two full days of soccer. Then Thanksgiving, Tommy's birthday, Christmas, New Years's...WHOA, SLOW DOWN!  I'm not ready for 2009. I still have too much to do in 2008.

    I guess I better get started...