Long Hollow

Reading and Other Forgotten Pleasures

    Sunday, I sat down in my in-law's sunroom, put my feet up, and finished reading a magazine I started two months ago.  Four more are waiting their turn in my suitcase and I'm feeling really optimistic that I'll get through them this week, too.

    I'm also determined to read a book -or at least start one. The first one in months...maybe a year. I made a late night deal on the side of the highway Friday to snatch a copy of my friend Larry Waddle's new western, West to Trust. I bet two cars in a pull-off area after dark...with money trading hands and a square package passed over...looked suspicious. I'm sure no one would believe it was a "book" deal and not a "drug" deal, but I thought the long hours with no routine duties ahead of me would be the perfect time (and maybe only chance) to read his book. I'd meant to order my copy online and had just never gotten around to it, but thank goodness Larry and Conni had an extra copy in their car and were able to make the deal with me on their way back from town.

    Yesterday morning I stretched out on the nearby beach in Navarre, soaking up the sun (after applying tons of sunscreen, of course!), watching surfers and seagulls, and listening to the waves crashing on the beach. The sand here is like snow - not just because it's near-blinding white, but because it squeaks when you walk on it. The water is green-blue and the perfect temperature right now, and felt so refreshing I ignored the more-than-usual amount of seaweed all around me. 

    One thing I love about the beach is how it draws people together - small communities of towels, chairs, and ice chests, side by side, separated by just a few feet of sand. Just next door to us a mom about my age, her pretty blonde daughter and granddaughter played in the sand. There were retired couples and teenagers, tanned surfers and young families, all drawn to the same place for the same reason.

    I've spent hours and hours losing at 3-13, one of those card games that really depends on your last hand but takes a LONG time to get there, especially when there are six or seven playing with three decks of cards. But that's just more time for talking and catching up, in between the teasing and bickering back and forth, anyway. The Shallue's are a competitive bunch.

    Also this week I've gone "junking" with two of my sister-in-laws, swam in a real swimming pool, and watched a movie. I've gone over 24 hours without getting on the internet - a recent record for sure - and survived.  I've had to grocery shop, clean, and do some laundry, but you just can't get away from some things when you're a mother. Tom and I walked to a nearby track this morning to run - there are some parts of your routine you don't want to leave behind.

    This afternoon the youngest set of Shallue's arrive - youngest brother John from Arizona, with his wife and three kids, including my precious goddaughter Nicole. I haven't seen her since last year in Montana.  She's one pleasure I haven't forgotten. I just hope she remembers me!

   

A Break in the Routine

    Sometimes the days leading up to a vacation can be so stressful, so packed with activity trying to tie up loose ends and anticipate problems, that you wonder if it's even worth it to try to get away. That's how I was starting to feel this week, especially considering the number of emotional twists and turns this week's journey entailed.
   But my doubts dropped away with the miles we left behind us. Time on the road is like a spring-cleaning for your brain. There's nothing to do but stare out at the changing scenery, listen to music that triggers memories, and just think and think and think until the old thoughts are gone and your brain is swept spotless, ready for a fresh batch.
    I fell asleep soon after we pulled out at 5 am (I only had one hour of sleep Friday night...all those loose ends to tie up!) and woke to the tall trees of east Texas filling my window. They gave way to the bayous of Louisiana, and then, before too long, the alternating deep forests and rivers of Mississippi, Alabama and, finally, Florida. I love my Texas hill country, but I appreciate the green surrounding us now, and the other differences - the birds, smells, sounds, and even heat. 
    The faces are the best part - faces and hugs and voices I love and had missed because we let too much time go by in between seeing each other. Tom's parents, brothers, my wonderful sister-in-law, nephews, nieces...and more will be arriving every day, traveling from different corners of the United States.
    I look forward to soaking up sunshine on the beach, watching movies, playing cards, and shopping with my adopted sisters. We'll be crowded - it will get loud and hectic and I'll wish for a few minutes of silence and solitude. I'll worry about my critters back home. But I'll try to remember to hang on to the moment, soak it up, wrap it around me and enjoy it, not wish it away or trade it for anything else. I'll set the worry free like a balloon, and tell silence and solitude to go back home and wait for me in Texas.

It's On Your Property, But...

    In the grand scheme of things - especially considering this week of life and death - the sickening, helpless frustration I have felt over the the massive wall of dirt that now towers above our pond, threatening its existence, seems like a minor problem. But our friend Jim reassured us that it isn't insignificant; he pointed out that just because our neighbor bought this property, in a sense it also belongs to everyone, because whatever he does to it can have a major impact on everyone else that lives around here and along the Colorado river. It's all connected. When you buy land, you are taking on the responsibility that comes along with it - it's a stewardship more than an ownership. And if we have reason to believe it's not being done properly, it's our responsibility to do something about it. So I'm proud to be a tattle-tale. I realize that after all my phone calls and emails to different agencies and officials, there's a chance that he IS doing everything properly or within his rights after all, and we'll just have to learn to live with it.

    But still...when I look at it, I just have to ask...WHY?

 

Can you see Tom standing in front of the wall?

 

Playing "Where in the World is Leslie?"

    I'm stepping from the swirl of extreme emotions that have marked this week to think of my friend Leslie. Today is her 50th birthday and I hope she's having a wonderful day, despite the deluge of sadness flooding both the headlines and our friends' Facebook pages lately.

    I'm sure she is. She is off with Clive, celebrating in style in California...or somewhere...my memory has reached over-capacity levels again and I'm having a tough time with those little details. Keeping track of Leslie's whereabouts on any given day is a little like playing "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?"

    But there's no way I can forget Leslie's birthday...or the past thirty or so years that she has been a constant in my life. Other friends drifted in and out and back in again, but Leslie is one who has stayed within talking distance, despite leading very different lives. On those long ago nights when I was reading to my babies or making rounds through the chemical plant, she was zipping around downtown Houston on inline skates. She is a career woman...intense, organized, knowledgable, always on the move. She travels constantly. She volunteers. She's crazy about professional team sports, has a great collection of autographed memorabilia, and makes my head spin spouting teams and statistics. Just recently she went to a car racing class! Still, we made time for each other and I was so glad when she followed Darla and I to the Austin area.   

    The most important things in her life are her friends and her family. She never lets too much time pass without calling to check on me, see how things are going, maybe invite us to a baseball game or to dinner, and hers is usually the first phone call I receive on my birthday every year. For MY 50th birthday party, she put together little goody bags of bottled water, flower seeds, candy, and confetti. It was her persuasive logic that finally convinced me to get on Facebook, knowing I share her desire to reach out and re-light all of those friendship candles. I'm so grateful ours has never gone out - I can't wait to see her in person to tell her so.

Happy, happy birthday, beautiful Leslie! Hurry home so I can celebrate you with you!

Near the beginning at the 5 year reunion, 1982...Denise, Leslie and Tom... 

A get-together in Pasadena sometime in the 90's...Leslie styling on the left in her boots...

With Clive at my birthday party in April...

Slowing Down for a Second Glance

Keeping an eye out for beauty at the University of Texas yesterday, while I wandered...and finding it, of course...

 

 

 

 

Focusing

"It is the familiar that usually eludes us in life. What is before our nose is what we see last." ~William Barrett, American philosopher and professor.

Relevant words, especially for these days...celebrating fathers, remembering a friend's son, and looking ahead to when I really take Kendall to college...in only a few short weeks.

These are hectic, heartbreaking, busy days and I can't write much tonight, but I spent the day with Kendall...sorta...trying to remember not to take this time and these opportunities for granted.

She went her way with the other incoming freshman for orientation and I went mine with the other parents who were facing an emptier nest come August. I felt like an old hand at this - I skipped most of the sessions - mostly I wandered around campus (but not too far from shade and air-conditioning!) taking pictures or just sitting and watching people. I also grabbed the opportunity to visit the Harry Ransom Center, home of a Gutenberg Bible and the very first photograph. An awesome photography exhibit of the works of Fritz Henle took up most of the first floor, inspiring me to hone my limited skills with my camera.

I crossed paths with Kendall three times during the day...once, to sign for her to get her new ID...once, purely by accident in the Student Union...and last, at the barbecue held in the shadow of the Texas Memorial Stadium. That's where I left her...she'll be spending the next few days getting acquainted with her future new home, and I returned to a house empty of kids - both of us getting a taste of what's waiting just around the corner.

 

The Unimaginable, and Praying

    The minute I set eyes on my firstborn, I felt that fear...that pain of imagined loss. Until I was a mother, I didn't have an inkling of the kind of fear a parent lives with every day - the death of your child. But it is born along with your baby and you carry it with you long after that baby grows and ventures away from the safety of your arms.

   A friend's son died this morning. It was supposed to be a happy day...a Father's Day spent together, celebrating the love between this father and his son. This was a father who was devoted to his kids, who would have given his own life in a heartbeat for any of them. In the end, there was nothing he could do. And that's another curse of parenthood - that helpless feeling when you realize there are limits to what you can do for your kids; there are just some things that are out of your control.

    The heartbreak I feel for this man is just a splinter of what he's feeling, I'm sure. I've been lifting him and his family in prayer all day, and I'll continue to do so - praying for peace, for acceptance, for strength...although just as the pain they feel is unimaginable to me, so is the idea that it would be a pain that could ever heal. But I also know that with God, all things are possible. Please join me in praying for them.

"My strength and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." Psalm 73:26

Weird Al + the Doors + Craig's List = Funny

    Something fun for a Saturday morning - dedicated to all of those Craig-Listers, especially Darla and my sweet Tom, who might be headed out to gather up new treasure...

Another Week of Silver and Gold...Lost and Found

  "Make new friends, but keep the old. 
One is silver and the other is gold.
A circle is round, it has no end.
That's how long I will be your friend."
                           -from the Brownie Friendship Song

  

    In 1977, we had no cell phones...no email...no Facebook. After high school graduation, I stayed in touch with a handful of people via corded telephones, handwritten letters, and occasional face-to-face encounters, but with those old-fashioned methods of communication, it was inevitable that I lost track of a few along the way.

    But, thanks to reunions, emails, free long distance, and now Facebook...especially Facebook...I'm finding them again! Even some I never even had back then. In that way, Facebook has been a true blessing - in this frantic, fast-paced world, I've been able to rediscover lost friends, find new ones through my 'gold' ones, and get to know all of them in a way I never did before. This big old world feels a lot smaller to me now.

     When I was three, before I had any idea just how big the world really was and "around the corner" seemed a long way off, Randi was one of my best friends, despite the three year age difference. Her backyard connected to mine, and even now if I close my eyes, I can step through the sliding doors, find my way through her kitchen (where her mom Ginger offers me a homegrown cherry tomato exploding with flavor) and into her bedroom. One wall is lined with shelves crowded with dolls I know are NOT to be touched, much less played with...I think they were gifts from her grandfather - a merchant marine, perhaps? But I'm probably stretching my memory out over too many years to remember it accurately.

    We drifted apart about the time boys became more interesting than Barbies. Her parents moved from the neighborhood, but our parents still kept in touch. A few years ago, my mom discovered Randi was living just one town over from me and urged me to get in touch with her. I had good intentions, but life kept getting in the way - and also all of those years in between "now" and the last time we talked. Would she even remember me?

    But the older I get, the more sentimental I am...and also more willing to stick my neck out and take a chance. All it took was a few minutes to find her on Facebook and send a quick message..."Do you remember BeeBee...?"

 Randi and me, not saying "good-bye" at the end of our two-hour lunch today, but "see you again soon"...and knowing we will...

 Also this week...I made more new friends from the class of '79, hanging out with Shari...Darlene, me, Shari, Audrey on Tuesday, then Shari, me, Darla (one of my "golds"), and Nancy on Wednesday...

 

"Craving Pizza" and other perks of my job

    Like any job, mine can get tedious - coming up with fresh new names can strain anyone's creativity and then staring at a computer screen for hours and hours, screening the potential new names for trademark hits, puts a definite strain on your eyes and your "sitting" muscles.

    But learning something new is always exciting to me, and I've had the opportunity to learn something new almost every day since October, when I started this gig.

    However, one of the real perks has been working with creative people like Ricky Russ, who built the new NameStormers website and edited the videos that either he or I filmed. This one for Pizza Cravers by Doritos (a name NameStormers came up with) is brand-spanking new and definitely my favorite video to date. He gets all the credit and my thanks for making me laugh!

Hoodrat?

Confession...I spanked my kids. And I don't regret it. Especially after watching this...

Drifting to the End of a Rollercoaster Week

    Like a rollercoaster ride, this week has had highs, lows, and white-knuckle moments. There were times when all I could do was close my eyes and hang on, waiting for the weekend, optimistic it would be another good one.

    The week started on a definite high - Kendall's graduation...a house full of family and friends helping us celebrate...worshiping Sunday surrounded by all three kids...a relaxing, delicious dinner with neighbors Sunday evening...and a free ping-pong table. I love ping-pong, and I love free stuff!

    But Monday the week took a stomach-flipping dive, followed by near-whiplash-inflicting twists and turns - the whole mess with the property next door...phone call after phone call after phone call...a trip to the vet with Max for his sore foot...tornadoes too close for comfort...my van going on strike Friday...

    It wasn't all bad, though. The Daddy-Long-Legs are back. Some people might not think this was a good thing, but I like Daddy-Long-Legs...I like the bouncy way they walk, the way they huddle together on the porch ceiling, and the way they eat other insects. They are so unique - I just like to look at them.  

  

    And it's baby deer season. I saw two or three on my way home from work this week, and Daniel surprised one in the woods. There's hardly anything cuter than a baby deer, so tiny and speckled with white spots. You can't help but smile when you see one, no matter what else is going on your life.

    Friday night the ride turned into nothing but fun when our new/old friends Shari and Robert rolled into our hollow for the night. We talked for hours and hours - Friday night while out on the back deck, listening to music and watching the distant lightning, and Saturday while trekking through the woods, eating at Sonic and driving around Lago Vista (well, half of it, anyway).

    Saturday evening it only got better - listening and dancing to Driftwood Moon, Shari's brother Andy's band. They played everything from America to Motown on the tree-covered patio of I'noz, a quaint little restaurant in Wimberley with a view of Cypress Creek...it was yet another Deer Park High School mini-reunion with members from the classes of '77, '79, and '83 - a perfect way to wind down a wild week. Now I only regret it ended so soon!

 

 

 

Whew! Too Close for Comfort...Again!

    If I had my druthers, I wouldn't be in a grocery store checking out at 8:15pm. But that's the only chance I had to go this week, and we were down to slim-pickin's in the pantry. So as soon as the pork tenderloin was done and I had eaten, I grabbed my list and headed to my Cedar Park HEB.

    It wasn't until half of my loot was scanned and bagged that the lights flickered and I overheard "tornado warning" from somewhere nearby. Huh? My cashier nodded, continued scanning, and told me "a tornado had been spotted heading our way, sirens had sounded, clouds were twirling directly overhead, it was pouring down rain...oh, now it was hailing..." and sure enough, I could hear it roaring down on the roof right above me.

    Immediately, I pictured the intersection of highways 183 and 1431, just outside of HEB, the way it looked on the afternoon of May 27, 1997, after a tornado passed through. Traffic lights dangled, signs were smashed, debris littered the roads, and the Albertson's across the street from HEB was demolished. The kids and I had been to the movies, stopped by a pet store (cheap entertainment for little kids), and I planned to stop at HEB on my way home. We heard there was a tornado warning, but I wasn't very worried. I mean, it's not like we live in Kansas or anything. 

    Back on 183, the black sky dropped low, the rain started and suddenly we were in a traffic jam. "I want to see a tornado!" Tommy said, searching the sky through the window. Be careful what you wish for, right? A tornado appeared on our left, swirling through a neighborhood - we could see the debris twisting and twirling as it got sucked up into the clouds. Tommy said "cool" but I reminded him that what we were seeing were bits and pieces of people's houses and belongings. I hoped that was all, anyway.

    It seemed to angle closer and closer to us, but there was no where to go! I was stuck in traffic, just inching along - no where looked like a safe place to take cover. I still had it in my mind to stop by the grocery store - I didn't want to have to come back to town the next day! And HEB seemed a lot safer than any of the places we were passing.

    But one look at the intersection and Albertson's convinced me to head home. Wind, rain and lightning followed us the whole way - at one point the sky turned green and hail peppered us - but we made it home safely. I flipped on the television and a gigantic tornado filled the screen - it had just crossed through Jarrell, a small town just up highway 183 from Cedar Park where it's so wide open and flat it's easy to believe you're in Kansas, wiping out a good portion of the town. It just scraped some areas clear, as if the homes had never even existed.

    So last night, driving home in the wind and rain, with the light show flashing all around me, I had an eerie feeling of deja vu. But I thanked God that this time the television screen didn't fill with an image of a huge tornado and a destroyed town. It was just another wild night in Central Texas.

    I wonder if Tom will get me another "Tornado Chasin' Barb" bumper sticker?

Reluctant Fences in the Hollow

       

     It was love at first sight -Tom knew the minute he saw these 5+ acres that it was the property for us. I agreed and we bought it without looking at anything else. It was the pond and creek that did it - our original dream of a lake view just floated downstream like a leaf caught in the current. 

    We spent weekends clearing dead branches and trees, and a few cedars that were encroaching on oak trees, mostly with machetes and small hatchets. The kids loved that! They did their share, considering their ages (10, 7, and 4 when we bought it), picking up rocks, erecting erosion control fences from the cleared cedars to keep the dust out of the creek, helping dig the trenches for the septic drain field...later, they hammered, shoveled, painted, swept, spackled, bagged construction trash, whatever they were asked to do, to help our dream home become a reality.

    This house is literally baptized with blood, sweat, and tears - and plenty of all three. It took eight years from the time we bought the property until we moved into the still-far-from-finished house. Tommy finally had his own bedroom...for the last half of his senior year of high school, anyway.

    Tom's accident delayed the building, but not for long - he worked through those aches and pains and around the subsequent migraines. He took a short break from working on the house to have a stent inserted into an artery in his heart, then got right back to it. He's had three, maybe four, hernia surgeries. I've lost count.   

    And it's still not finished - but we try to do what we can without stressing about it. We balance our "working on it" with our "enjoying it". The pond has cycled through drought and flood - mostly drought the last few years. The small waterfall isn't running right now, but the creek is still wet and trickling to the next pond.

    But...now we're starting to wonder about the 'enjoying' it part. Our new neighbor appears to have a different building philosophy than we do - bulldoze everything, rip it up, shift it all around, with seemingly no consideration of the land as part of a whole...no consideration of the boundaries or the effect his actions have or might have on the adjacent properties...pond...creek...lake. Have they never thrown a pebble into a pool of water and watched the ripples roll, on and on, away from the center? The very existence of our pond and the continuation of a creek that has flowed over a bed of fossils for hundreds of years is at the mercy of a person who seems to dive before checking the depth of the pool.

    We cherished the years we had this section of the hollow to ourselves, and if we could have afforded it, we would have bought up the land on either side of us. We knew eventually others would decide it was worth driving a mile down a dirt road to live down here, and they did, but ironically, not until the property values and the price tag skyrocketed to match nearby gated property on paved roads with lakeviews - people are so funny! 

    Until now, we've been blessed with neighbors who slipped quietly into the woods, not wanting to change anything, loving it as we love it. Until now, there have been no fences in the hollow. The old cedar posts and barbed wire that remain from its ranching days just add character, not limitations. However, an invisible fence now runs along one side of our property...a wall built from inconsideration and lack of respect. Now I understand the necessity of some fences.

    My heart aches for Tom, a man who lives to be a good neighbor and would do anything to help someone, who shed the most blood, sweat, and tears of us all out here to build something of beauty for his family- a legacy for his kids - who has spent years trying to maintain the natural beauty of the area. He overcame so many obstacles to get this far - financial, physical, and mental - but  these new ones are tougher because he can't understand them: destructiveness, selfishness and thoughtlessness. These bother him just as much as the idea of our pond or the creek being irreversibly damaged.

   But we'll hang on and continue working for our dream, fighting for the pond, grateful for the years we had it all to ourselves, untarnished. I'll remind myself that God can bring good from all situations, and I'll pray that this is no exception.

Then (you can see the original creekbed running down the middle)...

Now (currently in a drought, but we're do for a big rain...as in flood..and only pray this wall of dirt doesn't come tumbling down into our pond)...

   

   

$150 later...

    I just returned from the vet with Max. I gained two new bottles of pills, a huge anti-lick collar, and some "Yuk" ointment in case the collar doesn't work. I lost $150. Well, $180 when you count Charly's thyroid medicine. Yes, thyroid medicine. We also give Charly and Max daily fish oil capsules and Glucosamine; Charly gets them for arthritis (according to the vet's chart, he's about 75 in human years) and Max for a genetic joint problem. Max also gets special (which means "expensive") food.

    When it comes to dogs, "free" as in "free dog", ain't necessarily cheap. No wonder Tom and I are always so broke!

    Last week Max lost his appetite and didn't want to go on our morning walk. I started checking his legs and feet, and when I got near his left front paw, he curled his lip (he's not a good patient like Charly!) I gave him one of Charly's "happy" pills for pain, held off on the walks, and he seemed to get better.

    But on a walk Saturday afternoon, he started to limp again, and would often stop to lick his paw. Tom and I agreed it was time to let the vet look at it. Sigh. We could picture our money sprouting wings and flying away...

    The vet isn't sure what's wrong...Max might have a small fracture...it could be a snake or scorpion bite...maybe a thorn. All that is clear is he's licked it raw, which has just added to the pain.

    Max is lying quietly in the laundry room right now, surprisingly not trying to rip the collar off of his head. It won't fit through the door to his dog house - that's why we let him in the house. He looked so pitiful trying to force his way in through the small opening. Daniel is sitting on the floor down there reading, keeping Max company, keeping an eye on him. We'll have shiftchange in a little while.

    We gave Charly the option of coming inside, but he walked in, looked around, and headed back out. He's an outside dog, a country dog, through and through.

Poor Max...

 

 

Chapter 13...Saying Goodbye to LVHS

    

    Wasn't it just yesterday I stood in this colorful classroom serving cookies and punch and celebrating Kendall's graduation from kindergarten? She was so ready for 1st grade - for sitting at real desks, for skipping naps, for moving one chapter closer to this past Friday, when she and her classmates accepted the final diploma the Lago Vista school system has to offer.

    And just like back then, she is so ready for this new chapter - for moving into a dorm, for navigating the huge campus, for moving through another exciting chapter of her life.

    Even though I'm excited for her, and relieved we're through with these school days, I expected to choke up a little at the ceremony, watching her cross that stage looking so grownup and confident. But I surprised myself - I didn't feel even a teeny bit weepy! How could I cry when she's radiating relief, happiness, excitement, anticipation? This has been one of my goals for the past 17 years, and I've succeeded! I know there's so much more waiting for her out in the big world, and I know she's ready to take it on. That makes me feel so good.

    Now come August...and I've dropped her and her junk off in her dorm and Tom and I are heading home to a REALLY empty house...well, there might be some tears shed then, because I know I'm going to miss her. But I'm not going to think about that now - we have the whole summer together ahead of us, to prepare for that day and the next chapter. And that feels good, too.

Leaving the house for the last day of high school...recognized for graduating on the Distinguished Plan...diploma in hand...three up, three down...celebrating with cake (thanks, Mary Kay!)

 

 

 

 

The Battle Continues: Barbara vs. Green Screen, 1-1

    I was attacked by a Chroma-Pop Green Screen at work today - it popped me in the eye! It hurt enough that I applied ice, worried about walking into Kendall's graduation tomorrow night with a black eye.

    I was trying to fold it up to put it away in its neat little carrying case. According to the video on the website, this is a very simple procedure and only takes seconds. Two or three moves, and this 7' x 5' rectangle becomes a compact circle that slips right in to the bag.

    I've done it before, but it took more than a few seconds or a few moves...it took a lot of patience and calm, cool, confident determination. I was all out of patience and calm today, and somehow this screen sensed it - somehow it knew that my chi was off balance. It made its move while I was weak.

    It soothes my pride a little to know I'm not the only one out there who has struggled to fold these. Just watch this video to get an idea of my morning...

Lasting Impressions

    Confetti is flying out of my calendar and littering my kitchen counter from all of the recent birthdays! Besides my mother-in-law's, last week my friend Gina partied her way into 50 (well, every day is a celebration with Gina, anyway. She IS a party!) Another friend, Scott, turned 54, and yet another, Larry, turns 60 this weekend. (I remember when Larry told me he was 29...I made him show me his driver's license - I didn't believe he was that old! How can he be turning 60 already?)

    If you're lucky, you will have friends like these three who enter your life with such an intensity that their image, their very essence, is pressed upon your heart, shaping you. Even if your paths only head in the same direction for a little while, you are never the same afterward.    

     If you're really lucky, your paths will join back up down the road, and you no longer have just the memory and impression of the friend - you have the real thing once again. That's how it is with Gina. She is woven into my earliest memories, elementary school through junior high - slumber parties, wrapping houses, boys. Even back then, Gina was lively...vivacious...mischievous... full of ideas...a natural leader...FUN! In high school, our separate interests led us mostly in different directions: she was a cheerleader, through and through, while I worked on the yearbook and, uh, kept my options open. For a few years after high school, I didn't see her or talk to her, but little by little we've come back around full circle, making new memories: slumber parties...wrapping houses...and even boys (the same ones, only just as friends and a little older now.) 

     When I went to work at the DuPont methanol and Syngas plant, I was just nineteen - the youngest technician by several years and one of only a handful of women. I had a few semesters of college under my belt, a couple of months' experience as a welder's helper, and had only been out of my parents' home, in my own apartment, for about two whole months.

    How lucky for me...no, what a blessing for me...that I landed on the same shift as Larry, working with him in the Methanol area. Despite my youth and gender in a traditionally male world, he always treated me with respect and as an equal. I looked up to him for his gentleness, wisdom, patience (despite the red hair) and moral strength. And...he made me laugh! I have so many great memories of working with him, talking to him (poor Larry, I told him everything!) and sharing lots and lots of popcorn.

This was taken in 1980 in the Control lab, when I was twenty...me, Larry, and Ken, who lives in Panama now. (Look at that hair! Where did it go?? And by the way, that's some kind of syringe in my hand - my note on the picture says "0500 running %H2O in MeOH by Karl Fischer method" - whatever that was!)

    By the time I quit to stay home with Kendall, Larry had become a supervisor and was working at the new Ethanol unit. I've only seen him a handful of times in the past eighteen years, but we keep in touch by e-mail and I love getting pictures of his granddaughter Sophie...with her red hair and big smile, she looks just like her grandpa Larry to me.

This is an old one of her, but the most recent I have of him!

    And then there's Scott, who just turned 54. It doesn't matter that I only hear from him once in a blue moon by way of an e-mail ...I'll always consider him one of the best friends I've ever had.  We not only worked together - 12 hour shifts - but he and his wife, Belinda, let me tag along with them on our rare days off.  We'd go dancing, camping at Canyon Lake, and tubing the Guadalupe. We watched street races in Houston and played cards or watched movies at my apartment. But mostly, we just talked, confided, joked, and teased. Of course, there were rumors about us, but the fact is, we were just friends. Well, not just friends...best friends. 

    I'm not sure when we drifted apart, or why, but I won't lose hope that one day our paths will come together again. Until then, I'll look for the occasional e-mail, keep my fingers crossed for pictures of his grandkids, and be grateful for our friendship, the difference he made in my life, and the impression he left on my heart.

Scott, Belinda, and me tubing the Guadalupe River 1981...

 

 

Happy, happy birthday wishes to Gina, Larry, and Scott!    And thank you!

A Man and His...Bird?

    Tom and I are trying to slow down a little. We've been hitting the trails on our property the last couple of days, taking advantage of the sunshine and sub-100 degree temperatures while they both last. This evening, Charly, Max and Frankie all went with us, but yesterday the dogs wimped out and just Frankie tagged along. He came trotting up when we called and tagged along close behind Tom, making sure we didn't get out of his sight. It seems so strange, and yet so normal.

    We waded through Mexican hats and under an arching tunnel of lush green grapevine that cover the land bridge to get to the other side of the creek, then took a trail down to the little pond. It's my favorite place - a quiet green oasis, draped in ferns. No water runs down the upper creek, dropping as a miniature waterfall into the pond right now, although it does happen, and when it does, you couldn't imagine such a little waterfall could make so much noise - even on our back deck I've closed my eyes and could easily imagine I was sitting next to the gulf shore, listening to the surf. But it's still glorious when it's quiet. I envision myself...someday...sitting there on a little bench under the trees next to the pond, listening to the waterfall (this is a dream, after all!), typing away on a laptop.

 

 

 

Can you find the guinea in the pictures below?