Long Hollow

Oh, it's you again, Monday...

It's not a good idea to stay up late, late, late Sunday night working at the computer when you need to get up early, early, early Monday morning for work.

So now you know how my Monday started...with bloodshot eyes and plenty of yawns and scrambling to be on time.

When will I learn?

I wasn't even working on my book or any other kind of writing. I'm trying to "redecorate" my blog but I'm getting very, very frustrated. I've already spent more time on it than I really wanted to, or could afford to, but I've designed a new banner that I love and I'm bound and determined to finish what I've started. Eventually. I need to learn when to give up and call it a night, though, that's for sure.

All things considered (bloodshot eyes and yawns) it wasn't a bad Monday...for me, anyway. The puppies and I (and my camera, safe and sound at home again) took a walk in an un-wintery balmy breeze under a blue gray swirly sky. Max is still limping, but not bad. Belle is still bouncy Belle.

Then I ran 3 miles on the treadmill in just over 30 minutes (good riddance, cheesecake!) and got to spend most of my work day researching and writing about autism.

I received a few sweet comments on yesterday's blog post, including one from Suldog pointing me in the direction of his blogger friend, Running in the Yard Next Door, who posted something about Advent yesterday, too, only much better than mine. (Read it HERE.)

Tom, on the other hand, although his back was enough better to go to the office, got hit by a bad headache mid-morning that stubbornly held on until this evening, all through a day of meetings. I had already planned to grill pork chops, but then had to eat alone because I didn't want to wake him. (I was supposed to grill them last night, but had a full day of running around with TG and ended up eating my first yummy Black Bean Burger at Dirty Martin's, while Tom made due at home with frozen taquitos, poor guy.)

And also today, I got a phone call from someone dear to me who was being bombarded by one thing after another on a day when he couldn't afford the time or mental effort to deal with anything extra. Isn't that the way it goes, though? That's when you learn to take baby steps and breathe and not look at the big picture because it's just too damn overwhelming. On the up side, you learn you can deal with just about anything, and you really, really appreciate those days when everything is easy-peasy. (And dear one, those days will come, more often than days like today, I promise!)

I spent a lot of time praying today...

I also thought about this past weekend, when I did something I love to do but rarely get the chance... Swing. As in up and down, back and forth, on an actual playground swing.

We passed near these on one of our walks through the old neighborhood, and Daniel and I couldn't resist; we jumped right on. Besides being just plain fun, swinging is great exercise; I think I had really skinny legs up until I quit swinging regularly, around age 10.

Perhaps just coincidence. But perhaps not. 

Anyway, I try to make up for lost time when I come across a sturdy swing set... there's something about flying up into the air, back and forth, that is so relaxing...you can feel those troubles just dropping to the ground below, like so many marbles out of a kid's pocket...

"How do you like to go up in a swing, up in the air so blue?

Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing ever a child 22-year-old-man or 51-year-old-woman can do!"

~from The Swing, by Robert Louis Stevenson (slightly modified)

Did you notice the smiles? You just can't help but smile when you're flying through the air on a swing...

Hope you made it through Monday with a smile or two intact!

 

 

 

 

Back home, and thinking of a few "firsts"

Home again late last night, after a family-filled Thanksgiving - one of the best ever - and a wide loop to see dear friends on the way home and drop Daniel off at his apartment downtown.

Happy to be home, of course...happy to see Belle and Max and just be home. But Tom did something to his back. Again. When TG and I made our way into the house, I found him stretched out on our bed. Any slight movement made him gasp with pain. He said this was the worst it's been in a long time. Maybe ever.

I gladly fed the dogs for him, in between unpacking, starting laundry, loading 300 photos on the computer (between his trip to Florida and Thanksgiving)...

While I worked, the last few days at my parents' house crossed my mind...lounging on the couch watching one football game after another, switching to another room, another couch and another television to watch "Pretty Girl" with TG and "Pay it Forward" with Daniel, or just sitting at the kitchen table taking pictures of the newest family member, chatting with the older ones and drinking one cup of coffee after another, while just a few feet away my Daddy loaded the dishwasher...made yet another pot of coffee...carried towels through to start washing.

I really missed my Daddy last night.

Now, I didn't just lounge around being lazy the past few days at my parents' house. It so happens I cooked half of our Thanksgiving dinner...the ham, the green bean casserole, the rolls...I even took Pioneer Woman's advice and added cream cheese to my mashed potatoes. (Some of the best advice I've ever taken. You should try it!) I told you I can cook when I want/need to!

Granted, none of it was difficult - the rolls I just had to heat up, but still...it was a first for me. Not a "first" cooking Thanksgiving dinner - last year I did it all at my house for a fraction of Tom's family...only 13 or so...

...but a "first" banging around unsupervised in Mama's kitchen for an extended period of time. When I was growing up, my grandmother would come scurrying anytime she heard some pots clanking, and more recently, I only followed my mother's directions, helping her prepare the meal in her kitchen. This was the first time I was in charge and all alone in the kitchen of my childhood. My sister and I insisted it was time Mama just relax and enjoy the day and let us do the work for a change. Funny...I figured everything out, found just what I needed. I'd spent enough time in that kitchen, I guess.

We made a good team, me and my sister, Brenda. She contributed the turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, fresh apple cake and pie, pie, pie. Besides all of that, my niece-in-law made more scrumptious pies and my niece made a pumpkin cheesecake that was simply Aaaaaah!! I ate half of it - I should know!

A few pounds heavier, thanks to that dang cheesecake, I was reminded of another "first" today - the first day of Advent, a time when we (as in Christians) reflect on what we need to do to prepare for the second coming of Christ while commemorating his first coming - Christmas. A season for reflection of the past and the future. 

I Googled "Advent" and found a description on SpiritHome.com that I thought was perfect. I've chopped out bits to save space, but here it is...

Advent is a season of preparation. So's Lent, but it is a different kind of preparation. Lent is very adult and serious, because it leads to a death; originally, Lent readied new Christian adults for baptism. In Advent, we thank God for Christ's first coming, prepare for his final coming at the end of time, and celebrate Christ's presence among us today through the Spirit. God loved us and wanted to share that love. But this existence isn't well-suited for a god; it's too broken, evil, painful, unjust. So, to rescue the created world from this evil, God chose to come here and walk the earth, to grow up, to live the truth, and to die. The only way to start such a thing is as a baby, and the only way to be a baby is to be born. Hence Christmas. Because Christmas is centered in the new hope brought by a baby, it's a very child-oriented holiday. Because Advent leads us up to that baby, Advent is also child-oriented.

There's a time to get ready by focusing on your own sinfulness and wrongdoing, a time for personal transformation and following Christ to the cross. That's Lent. There's a time to get ready by rejoicing that our God is not far away and unfamiliar with the struggles of human life, that Christ is here right now among His followers, that God has already begun to bring in the Kingdom, and that Christ will come again to make it clear who really runs the place. That's Advent. "Lo, I am with you, even unto the end of the age", says Jesus.

As the first Advent candle was lit today, I thought about what kind of preparation I would do for this season. Prayer, of course, and then I decided I would strive for a more generous spirit, despite being broke. That will call for some creativity. Also, I'll try to be more joyful and less whiny. But my next thought was, Christmas is right around the corner, but Tom's back is out so I can't put up my decorations yet! 

Obviously, I have some preparation work ahead of me this Advent.

It wasn't a "first", but this Thanksgiving my mother's kitchen table had a baby in the middle of it for the first time in a very long time - it was a lot of responsibility for her small shoulders, but little Haila handled it well, keeping us all thoroughly charmed and entertained, and reminding us we have so much to be grateful for, and a reason to keep trying to get better, to make this world a better place...

I hope you had a Thanksgiving full of smiles and firsts. And whether you think about Advent or not, I hope your next few weeks are full of reflection, hope and joy.

 

The Day After

Morning rain, cooler temperatures, snuggling under the covers, sleeping late.

No Black Friday shopping for this family.

Football on the television. Feet propped up. Empty coffee cups, and more percolating. More dessert. More coffee. Afternoon sunshine. Long walks

Brother snoozing in the recliner. Mother, sister, son sharing stories at the table. Baby napping in the front room, worn out from entertaining and charming the crowd. Cousins and siblings reconnecting.

Daddy zipping from room to room, doing laundry, doing dishes, refusing help with anything. Busy. Happy.

 A house full of generations, memories, left-over ham, turkey, and pumpkin pie.

More blessings for which to be grateful.

Happy Day After!

The unthankful heart...

...discovers no mercies;

but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and,

as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour,

some heavenly blessings!

~ Henry Ward Beecher

 

May all of us have thankful hearts this day. 

No matter where we are, what our circumstances, what our nationality or religion or beliefs or other iota that makes us each unique, we can all find at least one thing for which to give thanks.

But I hope you find many, many, many. Happy Thanksgiving!

 

 

 

 

One thing I'm grateful for...

Sometimes it's those things that are right in front of us every day

that we take for granted the most...

I'm grateful for many things,

but I'm especially grateful I'll be seeing him again later today! 

I'm praying for safe travels for Tom and others who will be on the road or in the air over this holiday weekend.

May we all be gracious to and grateful for one another...

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

 

Potentially SPLAT!

First off, Belle was no where around when I stepped out for our morning walk. Max lay in his bed on the porch, but didn't get up like he normally would, excited at the prospect of a walk. And when I mentioned it, he just kind of whimpered.

I remembered a lot of barking last night; they must have run amok through the woods during the night, chasing a deer or an armadillo or something. That never fails to aggravate Max's elbow dysplasia. You'd think he would have learned by now, but I guess to him, it's worth the pain the next day. (I can sympathize...I've had nights like that, only mine involved dancing and red wine.)

So instead of walking, I brushed him. He enjoyed it, and I enjoyed spending time with him - there's nothing like making someone else happy to take a few pounds off of your heart - but I still missed my morning walk...my quiet time, my prayer time.

Belle eventually showed up (I think Max sent her off to play with Haley, knowing he wouldn't be up for the walk...what a sweet dog!) but by then it was too late. I had to get ready for work.

Fast forward several uneventful hours. Just before the end of my work day, I published a new Jobs4Autism post and noticed that the one I had published the week before was missing. Poof! All I could find was the initial draft...just a few tidbits of information and a link. If I didn't see the link published on our Facebook page, it would have been easy to believe I never published it at all!

I had worked on that post for several hours...and now it was mysteriously gone. Hours of work...vanished! So discouraging...all that time wasted...

And then later this evening, while balancing my checkbook, I notice that one of my online payments to a credit card never went through. Well, that can't be right. It's in my checkbook and I have the printed verification in my file!

I signed on to the account and those dreaded words popped out: ACCOUNT PAST DUE! You know what happens when accounts are past due, don't you? The gates of Hell open up!! Late charges, skyrocketing interest rates...whatever they want to do to you is fair game. No rules apply anymore. 

But I knew I paid it, so I snatched up the phone, ready to argue, while I dug out the printed confirmation notice and checked the email folder where the confirmation message will be. Only the paper I printed didn't have a confirmation number...and there was no confirmation email.

Gulp. Ah, man.

It probably happened during one of those late night bill-paying sessions and I was in a too much of a hurry to pay the next one so I could get to bed or work on my book, so I didn't notice the payment didn't fully process. Thank goodness I have a record for paying on time, over the minimum...the representative took my payment, waived the payment-by-phone charge and the late fee and assured me my interest rates hadn't been raised (yet - I could hear that silent word, but ignored it for now.)

Just a reminder that I need to pay attention... I need to stay in the moment, not let my brain go skipping off to play in the next room before it finishes the task at hand, like an errant child.

And the same for posts that I publish; no matter how rushed I am or how late it is, I need to remember to regularly save a copy of it somewhere else. For goodness sake, my computer swallowed a year's worth of my children's book one time - you'd think that would have taught me my lesson, wouldn't you? Sigh. I can be so dense sometimes.

Poor Max. I'm already doing all I can for his elbow. The rest is his lesson to learn (just like mine with the dancing and wine...)

The good news is, even with these potential potholes in my path today, I didn't trip up, didn't fall SPLAT into a Bad Attitude. Maybe it's still Mother Teresa's words in my head...maybe it's the proximity to Thanksgiving...maybe the combination has just made me more aware of my many blessings, and the negativity these little blips could burp out don't stand a chance against my current Good Attitude.

What a great feeling! I'll enjoy it while it lasts...

Here are some more words from Mother Teresa to help me keep it going... "What we need is to love without getting tired. How does a lamp burn? Through the continuous input of small drops of oil. What are those drops of oil in our lamps? They are the small things of daily life: faithfulness, small words of kindness, a thought for others, our way of being silent, of looking, of speaking, and of acting...."

I hope you were able to avoid going SPLAT! today, too!

Guess what? This was my contribution to Jillsy's (currently hosted by Sally G.) One Word Wednesday Challenge and Blog Hop...technically the word is "Splatter" but hey, I think "Splat" is close enough and fit my day better than "Splatter", right?

Check out the other contributions below (and add yours if you want to play!)

 

 

 

 

 

Gray Skies, Love, and other pieces of my morning

Gray skies accompanied me and the pups on my walk this morning, but they didn't reflect my thoughts for a change. Even though I'm missing Tom, it's been easier for me to focus on my blessings lately...just in time for Thanksgiving!

Because of that, I was able to appreciate the soft gray sky and the balmy breeze. We've started the Texas Winter Dance...two steps forward, one step back. If I haven't lived here all of my life, and I hadn't been watching the weather forecast warning of a cold front headed our way, it would be easy to believe we were skipping right over Winter and right into Spring.

Lately, I'm doing a better job taking each day as it comes...actually, each moment as it comes...and being grateful for it, all by itself, rather than as just another stepping stone into the future.

I confess I've had a little help from Mother Teresa with the attitude adjustment. Along with my coffee in the quiet house every morning, I like to read something inspirational or reflective - just bite off a small piece and chew on it till the next morning.

A few days ago I started re-reading her book No Greater Love. The effect on me is like throwing open the windows to let in sunshine and fresh air. If you haven't read it, I encourage you to, no matter what your beliefs. I believe her wisdom and insight go beyond religion, and there's something in her words for everyone. Her Christianity is plain, but she's not preaching. Of course, I'm a Christian, so maybe that's just my perception.

I'm including the section I've been chewing on today, so you can see for yourself...

"Always be faithful in little things, for in them our strength lies. To God nothing is little. He cannot make anything small; they are infinite. Practice fidelity in the least things, not for their own sake, but for the sake of the great thing that is the will of God, and which I respect greatly.

Do not pursue spectacular deeds. We must deliberately renounce all desires to see the fruit of our labor, doing all we can as best we can, leaving the rest in the hands of God. What matters is the gift of yourself, the degree of love that you put into each one of your actions.

Do not allow yourselves to be disheartened by any failure as long as you have done your best. Neither glory in your success, but refer all to God in deepest thankfulness.

If you are discouraged, it is a sign of pride because it shows you trust in your own powers. Never bother about people's opinions. Be humble and you will never be disturbed. The Lord has willed me here where I am. He will offer a solution."

Okay, I guess she does mention God in there quite a bit. But her words do encourage me - I hope some of you find encouragement in them as well, and the others aren't offended.

To lighten this up, here's a little Thanksgiving humor, courtesy of my friend Cheryl...(I'm grateful for my crazy friends...) 

Hope you're having a wonderful, reflective, peaceful Thanksgiving week.

 

Separation Anxiety

Who's going to cook me dinner?

Tom just looked at me and smiled.

Are you going to cook up some casseroles, label them with the days of the week and freeze them for me?

He laughed.
I think he thought I was joking.

Well, sure...I was...a little bit... 

He's off, away on his own for a few days, as of yesterday morning, visiting his parents, his brother, and his brother's family. If I could afford to take a few days off from work, I'd be with him. We haven't seen his parents since last Thanksgiving! How did this year slip by us so fast?

I stayed so busy yesterday, though, it didn't fully hit me he was gone until I came home from dinner out with friends to this empty house. And it wasn't just because I had to feed the dogs! (Normally, he has night duty.)  

After rushing through my morning chores, I spent a few hours in a movie theater with 2/3 of my kids - a noon showing of the latest Harry Potter movie - munching popcorn and trying to remember the storyline of the book it's based upon. It's been years since I read it. I got totally hooked with the first book; Daniel won a drawing at his school's book fair and he picked it as his prize, based on the cover. 

I read a chapter of it to these 2/3's every evening...and couldn't wait for the next one. By the second or third book in the series, my kids were too impatient...couldn't wait until evening for me to read...couldn't take just a chapter at a time. They took turns devouring the book in one, maybe two days. 

I'm pretty sure that was the end of our nightly readings. Sigh. Dang you, Harry and J.K. Rowling.

But thank you, too, for that magical world, wonderful characters, and makes-me-so-jealous writing.

I'm not sure why we even go to see the movies. It doesn't matter how well made they are - they just can't and don't come close to the experience of reading the books, and we usually end up annoying all of the patrons around us with our whispered commentary. 

Yes, I'll warn you next time we go so you don't have to listen to us. 

After delivering the 2/3's back to campus (discussing the movie the whole way, and ultimately deciding we need to produce our own) I headed to the bank, the grocery store, home again...unloaded groceries, patted dogs, changed clothes, and jumped back in the car to meet friends for dinner at Steiner Ranch Steakhouse. 

I let Tom take my camera with him to Florida...a tough decision, let me tell you. (I think it even surprised him! But I reasoned that he would be seeing his parents - I would be seeing autumn leaves, colorful weeds and wrestling dogs. It was really a no-brainer and I'm ashamed I even had to think about it.)

So, I couldn't take any photos last night of our group! But I can describe it to you...

Six of us sat outside at a rectangular table, enjoying steak, shrimp, elk, yummy rolls, sauteed mushrooms and more. I sat between Rod and Tamara, and across from us were Robert, Roy and Darla. (That's when I first really felt Tom's absence!)  A nice breeze blew in from the lake...it bordered on being too cool without a jacket, but overhead heaters cycled on and off, keeping the chill away. 

Above us the shy full moon hid behind gauzy clouds.

And if that wasn't enough for a beautiful evening, just a few feet away, Drew Womack sang to us - he's another one of those musician, singer-songwriters oozing with talent that has stepped over the edge of stardom once or twice, but not as far as I think he should go, and I don't understand why.

He has an amazing voice... click HERE to hear for yourself, and check out the video down below that I found of him singing at Steiner Ranch Steakhouse back in January. He's much better in person, of course, but it gives you idea of his talent.

Thank you, friends, for a wonderful Saturday night. It would have been a long, lonely evening here at the house without Tom...eating a sandwich, listening to CD's, typing away at the computer.

Um, by the way, what are y'all doing tonight?

 

 

The First Frost and other Friday Wonders (my Friday Favorites)

Autumn hasn't finished moving in...one glance down the Hollow and you'll see plenty of green mixed with the golds and oranges, and I'm not talking about the leaves on evergreen junipers or live oaks. 

However, this morning Winter reminded Autumn its days are numbered in the form of a light frost...sort of a white sticky note. I'd say it's a hint of more to come, but here in the Hollow, we rarely get more than a light frost in the dead of winter anyway!

In honor of the first freeze, for my walk I pulled on the white knit cap I've had since I was three (I've never found a better one) and my mismatched stretchy gloves (navy and black, close enough!) I love the briskness on my face, as long as my ears and hands are warm.

The frost was visible in the air...my white-wispy breath drifted up, joining the glaze on the surrounding hills. 

I've been in a photo slump lately - not much has changed around here, and I've already got quite a collection of wrestling dogs, autumn leaves, picturesque weeds, fence posts, and the last blooming wildflowers. 

But today I climbed out of my slump; photo ops just clamored for my attention...

...sunlight glistening on the frost...

 

...a hang glider cruising the skies above me in the Hollow...

 

...and tonight, a mostly-full moon...

I hope you had plenty of fun surprises today, too.

Happy Friday!

When we were young...

Young love, young bodies.

Before pregnancy and childbirth and knee surgeries and varicose veins.

Before car wrecks and hernias and headaches and heart stents.

When there was...

...enough money...

...enough energy...

...enough time for all of our dreams to come true.

 

Man, how time flies!

But, you know...

Our love might not be young.

(Our bodies certainly aren't. They've gone through all of the above, and more.

And survived.)

We might not have enough money or energy or time for all we want.

But somehow we do have...

...enough money...

...enough energy...

...enough time for the things that are important to us.

As well as enough wisdom to take life one day at a time...

...and be grateful for that day.

The funny thing is, I still feel the same inside...just as young, just as old...the very same person I was in these photos when I was 24...

...way back in 1983.

Pretty scary, huh?

My friend and former co-worker, Jim, posted these photos on Facebook today. They are from a camping trip to Canyon Lake my fellow shift members and I (and our families) took back in 1983.

Tom and I were two months away from our 1st wedding anniversary.

I have many photos from this same year, several from this same trip, but I'm familiar with the "me" I am in those.

Seeing these, however, is like seeing a "me" I had forgotten all about, and stepping back into memories I'd tucked away, memories of dear friends and fun times. 

Life goes on and sometimes you have to leave people and places behind, but seeing these photos reminds me that the ones who come close enough to leave an impression are never really gone...and if you're lucky, they wander back in a little ways down the road...

Thanks, Jim!

 

Dynamic, according to Definition

²dy·nam·ic  noun \dī-ˈna-mik\

Definition of DYNAMIC

1: a dynamic force 

2: dynamics; an underlying cause of change or growth

a : of or relating to physical force or energyb : of or relating to dynamics (see dynamics)

b : marked by usually continuous and productive activity or change <a dynamic city>b : energetic, forceful <a dynamic personality> 

Example of DYNAMIC 

Max, one month after Charly dog died...look at that face...look closely at his eyes...

Add a little Dynamic (dog)...

...and look at those eyes almost a year later...

And that's your lesson for today, made possible by Jillsy's One Word Wednesday, currently hosted by Sally G. with an added twist...a blog hop. Be sure to check out all the entries below, and if you want to participate, hop in!

 

Poetry, Music and definitions of Success

Last Thursday I sat in a small club with friends listening to a harmony of poetry, guitars, a bass and a mandolin...

The music and words danced together...took me by the hand and pulled me along on a journey...

They reached into my heart, triggering long-lost memories and emotions.

But then, out of no where,  I also found myself thinking about success and failure, and what defines either one.

I was at the Saxon Pub for the first time ever. It's a small nightclub, an intimate setting between the musicians and the audience. The Shake Russell Trio performed, joined by Michael Hearne...my first time ever to hear him.

Shake and Michael have written some wonderful songs, separately and together. Both are poets and musicians with loads of talent.

Shake Russell's voice, music, and poetry captivated me years ago, but to my surprise, he never made it 'big'...not by Nashville, New York or Hollywood terms, anyway. From the first time I heard "Deep in the West" 30 plus years ago, I expected to hear his distinctive voice all over the radio.

Never did.

A couple of big names recorded some of his songs, but their voices don't compare to his, especially when performing his songs. Why didn't some music executive jump on the ones he recorded himself and promote them?

Maybe it was Shake's choice.. Perhaps he would have had to conform, fit into a niche created by someone else, and it just wasn't worth it.

I really don't know.

But I realize it's a possibility. What is the definition of success anyway? Winning awards? Making a lot of money? Maybe to some, but not to everyone.

Next to me Thursday night sat Debbie, a girl I haven't seen since high school...and didn't know well back then...but thanks to my blog and Facebook, I didn't feel a stretch of years between us at all. That in itself is enough to make me feel my blog is successful - helping me connect to other people, even if I don't have hundreds of readers like other blogs I come across.

Why do I even keep comparing?   

I guess success can mean different things to different people. Shake has certainly touched a lot of lives with his music and poetry - when we had our house concert last April, we heard so many stories from friends about what his music meant to them. They wondered, like I did, why they didn't hear his name or music more often.

He has recorded tons of songs on CD's and sold many of his songs to other artists (one is on the radio now..."The Girl Just Loves to Dance", recorded by Gary P. Nunn. Request it on the radio so Shake and co-writer Michael can make some money!)

Maybe it's a matter of timing - of having the right person hear you...of producing the right material... at just the right time. 

Maybe it's just that he hasn't promoted himself enough. I've gotten to know Shake enough lately that I can see what a gentle spirit he has. I know the part I hate most about writing is sending out queries, pieces of my writing, like bait on a fishing pole, hoping someone will bite and I'll reel in the big one. 

That only happens if you put your hook in the water, though, and for some of us, it's tough. We don't like fishing - we hope someone else mans the pole so we can spend our time writing, not promoting ourselves. Maybe we're just afraid nothing will ever bite, so we're afraid to cast that line to begin with...

 If we can't promote ourselves, though...if we don't believe in ourselves and our gifts...how can we expect anyone else to?

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?”

  --Marianne Williamson. 

Shake is still young enough - I think his time is coming. Maybe it's all going to come together soon for him. I hope so. 

I've been in a bit of a slump myself - even this post has been tough, sorting my thoughts, trying to get my words right. Maybe it's from not having as much time as I'd like to devote to it, split between my book and work and life. Maybe I'm just tired. Last night I chose working on my book and sleeping...tonight I'm determined to finish this one and move on.

It makes it easy for those renegade thoughts to slip in...it's all a waste of time, but underneath, I can hear this other voice telling me to keep going.

"We must travel in the direction of our fear." ~ John Berryman 

Someone posted that one on Facebook last week. John didn't explain why we needed to do this, but I suspect it has to do with either growing stronger or getting lost and fading away.

Inspirational quotes keep popping out at me, encouraging me. Tom and I stopped at Panda Express Sunday night on our way in town from our visit with my parents. 

"Discover the talents within yourself," my fortune cookie told me. It's pretty sad when your fortune cookie is having to cheer you on, but I do appreciate it. I take all I can get.

And I spotted this motivational speech on success by Kevin Spacey last week. He makes some good points, but in other spots gets a little vague, and I'm not sure what the heck he's trying to say. If you have time, listen to it and tell me what you think...

 

 

Yeah, I think success and drive need to come from within, but I still think there are other markers of success, like enough money to pay the mortgage, and ward off worry for when you're older. I think if you can make a living and pay your doctor bills off of your dream, that's success.

But maybe success comes before that. Maybe it's as simple as that point when you decide it's a worthwhile goal, worthy of your time, energy and lack of sleep.

Or maybe it's when someone tells you they enjoy what you're doing.

Here's another quote I came across last week. (I'm telling you, they were jumping out at me!)

There are those of us who are always about to live. We are waiting until things change, until there is more time, until we are less tired, until we get a promotion, until we settle down — until, until, until. It always seems as if there is some major event that must occur in our lives before we begin living.

George Sheehan
American columnist, 20th century

I'm trying my hardest to live now, in this moment, every moment...and not wait for a "better" time...because, quite frankly, I'm sitting smack dab in the time I've been waiting for. Or maybe I just realized there isn't ever going to be any better time. If this isn't it, it's not coming.

I just wish it was a little easier... I'm really tired.

What about you? Have you started "living" or are you still waiting? Are you following your dream?

Are you successful? Please tell me what that means to you.

Meanwhile, here are some photos from Thursday night...

Dee (Shake's beautiful wife and my sweet friend), Debbie (from high school who has a beautiful smile even though she hasn't learned to keep her eyes open in a photograph...I'm not giving up on her!), and me...

The musicians and poets...Mike Roberts, Shake, Michael Hearne, Doug Floyd...

Kevin (Debbie's husband), Debbie and Tom...

The circle widens...my new friend Helen with Dee, her longtime friend...

 

Flushing Toilets... Family... and other Gifts

Tom and I headed to Pasadena yesterday to celebrate my mother's 79th birthday.

This is what greeted us upon arrival at my childhood home...not a good omen...

The young plumber (Ryan) assured us it wasn't a big deal though. Whew!

Daddy and I watched him and chatted with him while he worked.

I'm sure he loved it! (Poor kid...)

Turns out I went to high school with Ryan's boss. We called him Doodle. Such a small, funny world! 

(That's him in the glasses...Galveston, February '76...ah, those were the days...)

Ryan couldn't fix the problem after all. (But he did promise to tell Doodle hi for me.)

Twenty-four hours later, after multiple calls to the city, my parents were told there's a break in the line and crews will be out tomorrow to work on it.

NOTE: If you have a flushing toilet, go hug it right now. Never, ever, take it for granted, ever, ever, ever again.

For your sakes, I'll say no more about that portion of the weekend...except to say, other than the toilet issue, I think my mother had a wonderful birthday.

My sister brought over enough desserts for an army...fresh apple cake, mystery pie, and brownies. 

My brother brought barbecue...brisket, chicken, sausage, plus all the sides. 

Tom and I ate.

Oh, and took pictures...

Mama and her babies...(Brenda and I both had to tickle him, but we got Donnie to smile!)

Mama and the representative grandchild, my niece Christin...

Mama and her sons-in-law, Ralph and Tom...

Mama and Daddy (Not even plugged up sewer lines can take away their smiles! They know what's important in life...)

Happy birthday again, Mama! I'm glad I was able to celebrate with you. 

And thank you to everyone who wished her a happy day!

 

Lesson #79 (Happy birthday to my Mama!)

Today is my mother's birthday! Guess which one?

Two years ago I listed 77 things I'd learned from my mother. Last year I added #78, a very important one. You should read both of those. (Go ahead... I'll wait for you!)

So, ready for Lesson #79?

Every afternoon I call my mom. (Well, almost 'every'.) I've always known how lucky I was to have her, but the older I get, the more I realize what a treasure I have in her...I understand the sacrifices she made for all of us in ways I couldn't when I was younger. I know how happy it makes her for me to call, and that's why I do it more than anything - it's the least I can do after all she's done for me.

But you know...I always feel better after talking to my mom. I can say I do it for her, and she can say she wants me to call for her sake, but dang it, she's doing it again...my phone calls to her help me! And I'm sure she knows that!

She hardly gets a word in edge-wise. I just yak and yak and yak. Even when I thought had nothing to say, she knows how to trigger something to get me going...just the thing I needed to get out of my system, of course.

Many of my friends no longer have their moms to call, either in the pretense of checking on them or to blatantly unload their frustrations and problems. I realize how blessed I am, and my daily phone calls are in part, in honor of those friends who can't call their moms anymore.

So Lesson #79 is one I really need to learn...to just listen.

Technically, it's #4 on the original list, but it deserves repeating, because it's such a tough one for me.

My mother is the best listener ever in the history of the world. She has always been able to sit and listen with only minimal (and very wise) interjections...whether it was about old boyfriends or my kids or my time issues. Everyone came to her for advice, because she was such a wonderful, sympathetic, nonjudgmental, empathetic listener. She has a wonderful way of helping you see that "X" is not the end of the world. She helps you see the humor in the situation. She helps you come up with your own solution, when you truly thought it was hopeless.

When you're angry, she's angry with you. When you're sad, she's sad. When you laugh, she laughs.

Me, on the other hand...sometimes I can be a good listener, but other times I either become too involved and give unsolicited advice, or my brain is busy somewhere else, not fully engaged with the moment. 

But I promise (again!) to work on it. (She also taught me to never give up! #1, #18, and #33!)

Thank you again for being the best mother in the whole world... for your wisdom, your laughter and your listening ear...

I'm so grateful for you!

 Happy 79th Birthday, Mama!

 

 

Friday Favorite Photos - Still Running and Playing

I pick these two photos as my favorites because take a look at Max - in the first one, he's running! And in the second one, I caught him mid-prance, playing with his puppy, Belle (you can see a bit of her in the foreground.) It hasn't been more than a month that we thought his running days were over - he was limping so bad. We just knew he was on a downhill slide to being totally lame, thanks to his elbow dysplasia (ununited anconeal process). 

He's still limping, but would you believe the cooler weather has helped? Most days, he's frisky and, at least once on our walk, he initiates a game with Belle, letting her pounce on him, bite his leg, and play the way dogs play.

I have to turn and walk away. Just like I did when my oldest son and his friends pulled out those dang boxing gloves.

But there's another reason I chose these photos as my favorites...but it will take a little more explaining...bear with me, please...

The rain surprised me this morning...a pouring rain that washed through the Hollow. I thought our walk was washed away with it, but moments later it had slowed to a drizzle.

A drizzle the puppies and I can handle, so I grabbed an umbrella and started down the road. I never even opened the umbrella, though - by the time I hit the road, sunlight and gray clouds were battling it out in the sky.

As it so often does, the sky mirrored my turbulent mood...sunlight struggled behind the clouds, illuminating the edges, try to break free of the persistent gray veils...doubt, worry and questions blocking my view of answers, resolution and peace. 

They're the same dark clouds that pop up every now and then, trying to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to be doing with my life. What should I focus on with the little amount of "dream" time I have? Is it enough to accomplish anything with? What is my dream, for that matter? What should it be? I'm 51 and still trying to figure it out.

Oh, some days I know. Some days I'm sure of it, full of confidence and determination. Then other days, like this morning, I wake up wondering if I've just been wasting a lot of time.

A friend thinks I should focus on photography, start promoting myself as a wedding photographer or take portraits. It flatters me that she thinks I could possibly do this...but I know enough about photography now that the glitches in the idea glare down their noses at me: I don't have the right equipment; I can't afford the right equipment; I don't have the knowledge. I don't have the time to gather the knowledge. 

(I subscribe to half a dozen photography newsletters that I neatly file in a folder in my email inbox, for later...when I have time to read them...)

But the thing is, that's not my passion. Photography is an obsession and a stress-reliever and I want to get better and better...and if I can make money at it without a huge time investment, that's great, but my dream has to do with writing. 

Most of my writing time I spend on this blog. I love blogging - it brings in a little bit of money, plus it's my old-time hobbies of journaling, scrap-booking, and letter-writing all rolled into one. But I'm left with just a small portion of time for my book, which is supposed to be my Big Thing.

But when I look at other blogs...oh, geez, it makes me wonder why I even bother! Should I just quit and focus on my book? Or should I give up the book altogether and focus on my blog? Then I stop to pay bills, and think, should I forget them both and just focus on finding a second better-paying job to help us get out of debt?

(Is your head spinning yet?)

My faith steps in here...I truly just want to do whatever it is I'm supposed to do. If I can figure out what that is...

(Lord, I'm listening!)

I didn't fall into total despair, don't worry. I'm used to this battle - I've gotten pretty good at stepping to the side as a bystander.

It's a good thing, because the sun and clouds took turns all day, both inside my head and outside. I still haven't heard any trumpets or a loud voice announcing clear instructions. And at this point I don't expect to.

Last night two friends told me they enjoyed reading my blog, and I believe them. I have friends tell me that sometimes and I know they don't really read it. Some of my best friends don't read it. That hurts a little, but reading blogs takes time. I don't get to read all of the ones I enjoy every day, either, so I guess I need to cut my friends some slack.

But through my blog I've met some fabulous people and discovered some wonderful blogs. I believe it's a path I'm supposed to continue along, at least for a little while. 

I really don't believe in coincidence anymore...I think I'm supposed to trying to juggle all of these things, my blog, the book, photography...even my drums..although I don't see the benefit of it. Perhaps the end goal isn't my success at any of it, in the world's sense of success, but just the path they lead me along...the people I meet along the way, the lives I touch, the lives that touch me.

So that brings me back to the photos of Max. In them I see a dog who ignores a handicap to go after something, still believing he can catch it. I see a dog who ignores his pain to play with his puppy because he knows it makes her happy, and because of that, it makes him happy. 

Don't give up the chase. Make others happy.

Damn, he's a smart dog.

Thanks, Max.

 

 

 

Today is Veteran's Day... how do you say "Thank you"?

Please forgive me...this is pretty much a re-post from last year, except for a small, much-needed addition...

 

 

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 year 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, Kenny, Steve, Joe, Robbie, John, Sheila, Michael, Tom, Lynn, Robbin, Evan...and all of the other Veterans 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.

But let's hope we do remember the price, as well as who's paying it for us.

 

 

Connected

 

Each of us stands our ground, doing our best to remain upright through the elements...

 

We're pushed and shoved by the weather...

By life. By time.

We have our own space, separate from the rest, vulnerable to the wind in just a slightly different angle than the next one...

...but that's good, because we're connected, each one of us, and when one is feeling the pressure, when the wind is pushing and pushing, our connections hold us up, keep us from falling. 

When the wind shifts direction, as it always does, it's our turn to brace and hold and keep the other from falling, and in that way we all stand, tall and strong.

What would I do without my friends...those that stretch back to the horizon with me, and those who have joined in recently, adding strength by numbers...

...my unique and beautiful fence posts, standing with me... guarding, shielding, protecting... joined by memories, blogs, shared passions... 

....my tough-as-barbed-wire connections.

This post was my contribution to Jillsy's One Word Wednesday..."Connect". To join in, or to just see the other contributions, go HERE...

Today I'm grateful for all of my connections...friends and family, young and...not so young, male, female, long-time and brand new...

Thank you for the times you've helped hold me up, kept me standing, when I just wanted to fall.

Keep Long Hollow Beautiful, Dangit!

At the top of our road, there's a sign that says No Littering and No Dumping. Yet, every day on my walk, I find something that doesn't belong, most often beer cans or bottles... sometimes soda cans, empty cigarette packages, snack food wrappings, styrofoam or paper cups.

Where is it coming from? Okay, I know... it's coming from People. But who? Who is tossing this stuff out their car window or leaving it lying around where the wind or animals can snatch it up (we don't get much traffic down here!) and what do they think happens to it?

After the recent floods, we could see someone had been dumping empty bottles and cans...and more. Looks like maybe a bottle of bubble bath...

The pond is clear again now, thank goodness... all the suds washed downstream to Lake Travis...

(Oh, wait! We drink that water, don't we?) 

...well, actually it's still not clear, and we don't know why. Usually this time of year we can see 20 feet down - but even though the surrounding ponds are clear, ours isn't. You can barely see these big rocks - what's keeping it so foggy?

We're hoping the tadpoles, minnows, dragon- and damselflies we see enjoying the pond are signs that it's still healthy...

The Boy Scouts have a saying that I've always liked... "Leave it better than you found it."

I can't do much about the pond, but a few weeks ago I took a trash bag with me on my walk and picked up all the trash I found; sad to say, I almost filled the bag, and it's only a half mile section.

Already, I'm noticing cans reappearing on the sides of the road.

There's so much we do that we think doesn't affect anyone else. But even just one of something can make a difference... one can, one wrapper... one person. 

I challenge all of you to pay more attention to your trash - make sure it goes where it's supposed to go... and that means NOT on the ground (especially not on my road!) Truck drivers, clean out the beds of your trucks! People with yards, think about what you're putting on your lawn that soaks in deep or washes away.

Whew! Okay, I'm off my soapbox now. Thanks for listening!

I'm grateful for people who recycle, re-use, throw their trash in proper receptacles, and try to 'leave it better than they found it'.

A Not-So-Unproductive Weekend

I had big plans for this weekend.

BIG plans.

Number one on the list: getting caught up on my sleep.

Next, I planned to get caught up on my book. It only took me a few days to fall short of my 1500 words/day writing goal. Mostly because my body refused to put up with only 5 hours of sleep a night after just three days, the only way I could fit in writing time.

Traitor.

I also needed to conquer the mountain of laundry and then, the mountain of paperwork on my desk (including bills.) Next, I had blog posts to read and write (I hoped to get ahead for this week), photos to dig out and scan for our church directory, tons of emails to read and answer, brownies to make for a Saturday night get-together with friends, and finally, Mass and an Eagle Scout ceremony to attend on Sunday. (I had hoped to somehow squeeze in a trip to my friend's ranch south of San Antonio, either late Saturday night or early Sunday morning, but let that dream go early on.)

You've probably already guessed that I didn't get all of this done.

But I did do some of it, plus some I didn't have on any lists. I'm trying really hard to do a better job of focusing on the positive instead of the negative, so here's what I accomplished:

I slept a whole glorious eight hours two nights in a row (no alarm clock!)...watched Big Fish with Daniel and Tom (and cried again - love that movie!)...went for two wonderful, long walks...

 

...played ping-pong with Daniel...worked on my book (no comment on the number of words)...published two blog posts and read a few...demolished the mountains of laundry and paperwork...paid some bills...read some emails...made brownies.

Saturday night we spent several hours with friends in Wimberley...

...witnessed a glorious sunset...

...talked genealogy with Joe (it's so much fun to find other genealogy nuts!)...

...made it to Mass Sunday morning, and to bed Sunday night in time to get six hours of sleep before starting this new week.

Six is the magic number, I've discovered. As in "minimum amount I can have without turning into a brainless-zombie-witch."

We didn't make it to the Eagle Court of Honor - that's my biggest regret. This Boy Scout troop holds a special place in my heart, even though I don't really know the boys in it anymore. But I'm having to realize I can't do everything, can't be everywhere, and still make progress on my dream of writing this book...

...and when I look at my "Done" list, I see I actually accomplished quite a bit! The most important things, anyway...

So what did you accomplish this weekend? How do you prioritize your time?

I'm grateful for the time, wisdom, and opportunity to reconnect with friends from my past... for those who live close enough to see often...for Texas sunsets, guitars, bonfires, people who can sing...and ping-pong on autumn afternoons.

 

Pen-Pals, Paradise, and other wishes come true

Years ago, my grandparents had a little cabin near Lake Medina, in the hills west of San Antonio. As you can see from this photo of Grandad on the front steps, it wasn't much to look at...and "little" is an understatement...

But in my mind, a weekend at the cabin was a trip to Paradise! I remember the narrow, twisting roads leading to the cabin...remember one night the headlights catching a roadrunner crossing just in front of us...remember the heavenly smell of juniper.

To the best of my memory, inside the cabin there was a front room furnished with bunk beds, a sleeper sofa, and a coffee table where we played Chinese Checkers.

(I love Chinese Checkers!)

Adjacent to it, like the base of an "L", was a kitchen, including a small formica dining table. Grandmother and Granddad's bedroom took up the rest of the space, except for a closet that ran between it and the front room, with doors opening into both...my "secret passageway"...

Oh, the bathroom was right off the kitchen, too. Sort of. You had to step through the back door, follow a path a few feet to a small building. Yep, an honest-to-goodness outhouse.

I never had to go at night. Or if I did, I've blocked it from my memory. 

My grandparents loved to fish. I mean, loved to fish!! We'd spend hours down at the lake - mostly I swam and played on the shore. I've never been that crazy about fishing, but every once in a while I'd sit with a cane pole and try.

Later, they'd sit outside the cabin and clean the fish. I think we had fried catfish every night for dinner. Fine by me - I didn't like to fish, but I loved fried catfish. 

So why was this paradise to me if I didn't love to fish?

Well, I've mentioned the smell of the juniper. I loved it. And I loved the rocky ground, so handy for stacking into walls.

I love rock walls.

I was allowed to roam through the oak and juniper woods a little, and I discovered this old shack one day...probably an old deer blind. I would imagine it as a pioneer house in the wilderness, or an outlaw's hangout in the old West...or who knows what else I'd turn it into.

And if I could convince someone to come with me, I would head to the end of the street and hike through a small ravine, essentially a dry creek bed. In some places the walls rose 15 to 20 feet on either side, pitted with small holes - homes for wild animals.

I could hike there for hours, and would, if I could get any of the grownups to go with me.

I wished so much that I could live in a place like that...

It took more than twenty years, but my wish came true. I now live in a rocky, hilly land with twisty roads, surrounded by oak and juniper woods, and their heavenly smell that always takes me back to the cabin. There's a dry creek bed to wander along, but no old shacks falling apart nearby; I'm old enough to think that's a good thing. 

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

Another thing I wished for about the same time were Pen-Pals. 

I loved writing letters, and I thought it would be the coolest thing ever to have friends in other countries to write to, and to get letters from, telling each other what life was like in our respective countries. Maybe even have a souvenir from another country arrive in the mail...

But try as I might, I never made any Pen-Pals outside of my country.

Until now, that is. Forty years later, that wish has come true. Almost every day, I "talk" to friends around the world, through my blog, FlickR, and Facebook. The world has become a much smaller place.

And guess what? A mysterious package arrived in the mail recently. Inside was this beautiful plate...

My friend Juana of Between USA and Spain sent it to me...a souvenir she picked up for me in Spain while she was visiting her family.

Each day she was there she blogged about what she was seeing and I loved traveling along with her. Back in 1976, I spent three days in Spain, mostly Madrid and Toledo. Juana told me she spent that summer in Madrid, and we've laughed, thinking how funny it would be if we had passed on a road somewhere.

Excitedly I dug out my pictures - maybe she would be in the background of one? But would you believe the only photos I have from those three days are of the Plaza de Toros and the Bullfighting museum...

...the Alcazar of Toledo and a view of the city...

...El Greco's masterpiece (The Burial of the Count of Orgaz), a donkey race, and some Flamenco dancers (including this one of our high school counselor JW doing the "bump" with one after their performance. JW died several years ago, so I'm grateful for photos like this one.)

I see all of the wonderful, beautiful sites from Juana's visit (and from TG's a few years ago) and wonder why I don't remember seeing all of those? I realize we were only in Spain three days, but surely, this wasn't all we saw?

My memories are foggy, though. Photos would help clear them up, but in my defense, it was the end of a month-long budget hop across Europe and I was probably down to my last roll of film. And...I know this is hard to believe...I was actually tired of taking photographs.

And...yes, I'll go ahead and admit it, a little burned-out on ancient cathedrals and gold-plated icons and masterpieces. 

But give me a break - I was only seventeen! I think the human mind can only absorb so many amazing historical sites before they all blur together.

Thank goodness Juana insists on Tom and I visiting her and her husband in Spain one day. She's even making a list of all the sites we need to see.

I just love Pen-Pals.

I've had other wishes come true...too many to list, really. But these two remind me that wishes sometimes take their time...they remind me not to give up, not to quit wishing on stars...

What about you? What wishes have come true for you, and which ones are you still waiting for?

Today I'm grateful for...

*Memories and old photographs that keep long-gone loved ones alive in my heart...

*Friendships - the ones that have lasted forever, the ones that have been rediscovered, and the new ones...all wishes come true...

*Digital cameras, cell phones, emails, Facebook, blogs, and FlickR - they keep me connected to these new and long-time friends and relatives in ways that wouldn't be possible otherwise...

 

 

 

"The Chase" (performance and choreography by Max and Belle)

 

Act 1

After it!

 

Act 2

Hmmm...where did it go?

Act 3

Mom knows everything - go ask her!

Ah, those dogs. Constant entertainment! And so creative!

Today I'm grateful for the sunshine (once again) and the chance to live out here where we can walk along dry creek beds and deserted dirt roads, and my dogs can run (relatively) free.

Friday Favorite Photos... Autumn Leaves, Pond Fairies and more

The falling leaves drift by the window
The autumn leaves of red and gold
I see your lips, the summer kisses
The sun-burned hands I used to hold.

Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I'll hear old winter's song
But I miss you most of all my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall.
 

Originally a French song, "Les Feuilles Mortes", with lyrics by poet Jacques Prevért. 
Recorded as "Autumn Leaves" by Johnny Mercer and many others...

This is such a melancholy song, but the lyrics are so visual and just go with the season, don't you think? For me, autumn is a time of reflection, and if not for the sunshine, I would easily drift into a melancholy mood. I'm dramatic that way. And yet it's still my favorite season...

Autumn is taking its sweet time moving into the Hollow. Changes are evident each morning, but they are subtle...as if an Artist slips in at night, painting one tree at a time...

And that's fine with me - it means a protracted Autumn Leaf photo season. I hope you're not sick of them yet, all of these fading oranges and yellows and browns. Soon enough, everything but the live oak and juniper branches will be bare. 

So my favorite photos this week are from a walk Tom and I took with the dogs last Saturday. I had a long list of things to do, but heck, the sun was shining, the blue sky was calling me...how could I resist? (for more shots of our walk, click HERE. For more signs of autumn in Long Hollow...if you're really not sick of them...click HERE.)

I only allowed myself two "autumn leaf" photos. It was tough trying to choose, but I picked this one of a vine, because I don't think I've ever noticed autumn colors on a vine before... 

...and this baby oak tree, just because it's so cute! 

Despite the clear signs of autumn, we still have plenty of yellow blossoms lining our road (and a few lingering purples, too!) I love getting in close and seeing the amazing details.

In a way I dread the coming days of no color, but I suppose we should be grateful for them as well; otherwise I wouldn't appreciate the color so much...

We lingered awhile beside a pond, letting the dogs swim and explore. I was mesmerized by the dozens and dozens of blue damselflies darting here and there and everywhere on the surface...going so fast it was hard to capture them in my camera! From a distance, I could imagine them as tiny blue fairies...

And last but not least, I love this one of my Baby Belle. It's rare to catch her this still...she's as energetic as those damselflies, but you can tell she's growing up...childhood just goes by way too fast, so I'll put up with her pouncing and jumping and chewing, because I know it's not going to last forever.

For two posts now, I've neglected to mention what I'm grateful for (although I am listing them on Facebook, so I haven't completely forgotten to be grateful!)

Tonight, I'm remembering to add them here...

*I'm grateful for hot coffee and cold mornings and the chance to enjoy them both on my back deck...in the rocking chair I got from my sweet friend Gwen. I think of her every time I sit in it...

*I'm grateful for the glorious sunshine pouring on us the past two days, but I'm also grateful for the rain on Wednesday...not just because we need it, but because if it weren't for the gray days, I'd take these sunshine ones for granted.

*I'm grateful for the wonderful writing I came across today...two blog posts that are so wonderful that I want to share them with you. Take the time to read Thanksgiving Comes First by Cricket (it really should be spread nationwide!) and Go Gently, Speak Kindly by Aileen via The Magpie's Fancy. You'll thank me, I just know it. This is the kind of writing that inspires me and makes me jealous all at the same time. Sigh.

*Oh, and I'm grateful I get to see my middle son this weekend and spend time with good friends I haven't seen in a while.

What are you grateful for today?

 

Goodbye Mr. McGhee

We were the first girls' Shop class ever at Deepwater Junior High. Ever. Let me repeat: 

The...First...Ever. 

It was 1973. I was trying to recover from my first (and only) 'C' on a report card (7th grade Sewing. ugh.) and jumped on this chance to regain my dignity as well as be part of the Women's Movement and Deepwater Junior High Equal Rights History. 

I don't think he was thrilled about the idea. He was old school, gruff and cynical. Girls didn't belong in Shop Class.

But how could he resist us, a bunch of giggly fourteen-year-old girls who were eager to learn, followed directions (most of the time), asked for what we needed sweetly, and who buttered him up like a hot biscuit?

He ended up loving us, of course.

What do I remember about that class? I can see the big, round, communal sink - the first ever I'd seen like that, where you turn it on with your feet (because your hands were dirty, duh!) I can see the sled we made for the Christmas food drive - it brought home 1st place! I hear the radio playing...I think it's Alice Cooper singing School's Out...

I think we were the only class who got to listen to the radio. How cool was that? (At least that's what he told us...)

I see us crowded into a smaller room, learning about drafting...designing our wood-working project. I made a set of shelves (they're hanging in TG's bathroom right now, covered in dried rosebuds) and a wooden cross. It's tucked away in a box somewhere. I think I'll search for it this weekend.

We also sat in that room to watch Shop Safety Films, the black and white ones from the 50's and 60's that always ended with at least a finger being cut off by a table saw. Sometimes it was an arm, with great special effects like blood squirting! At least that's what I remember...maybe time has embellished it a bit, but I do know we loved watching those films.

I see myself wielding my future shelves on the jig saw, trying to follow the lines I'd drawn on the wood...I see myself sanding, sanding, sanding...I see Mr. McGhee moving from girl to girl, patiently offering advice, knowing when to step in and when to stay back...

He also taught us how to work with leather - we made leather belts...the cool ones with silver loops on the sides, leather wrist bands stamped with our names...hot stuff in '73. I still have my belt somewhere...probably wherever that cross is stashed.

I made straight A's in Shop. Dignity and self-confidence recovered, wonderful memories made, lots and lots learned about life, people, but mostly myself.

Thank you, Mr. McGhee, and rest in peace, knowing you will never be forgotten.

Dona Nobis Pacem

(Click the image to learn about Blog Blast for Peace)

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." John 14:27

"Peace is not something you wish for; It's something you make, Something you do, Something you are, And something you give away."

~Robert Fulghum

"Peace is costly but it is worth the expense."

~African proverb

"Lead me from death to life, from falsehood to truth; Lead me from despair to hope, from fear to trust; Lead me from hate to love, from war to peace; Let peace fill our hearts, our world, our universe."

~Satish Kumar

Each Sunday at Mass, we turn to our neighbors, shake their hands, and say

"Peace be with you."

Immediately I feel a wave of energy; I imagine it flowing out into the world,

a positive force blasting away negative. 

Just as I join hands with my neighbors on Sundays,

today I am joining bloggers across the globe.

to speak on one subject

in one voice

for one day.

Peace.

Dona Nobis Pacem.

(Grant us Peace.)

 

Now I've been crying lately, thinking about the world as it is
Why must we go on hating, why can't we live in bliss?

~ Cat Stevens, Peace Train 

"We are not at peace with others because we are not at peace with ourselves, and we are not at peace with ourselves because we are not at peace with God."

~Thomas Merton

"If everyone demanded peace instead of another television set, then there'd be peace."

~John Lennon

There are so, so many quotes about Peace...and all of them ring true. So many voices sounding off for Peace, from all religions and philosophies, all around the globe...yet wars still rage around the world...Why?

Maybe it's because I grew up watching the Viet Nam War played out on television and in movies...watching the protests...watching my brother go off to fight...twice...keeping track of his whereabouts with pushpins on a map of Viet Nam posted on our hallway wall...

...or maybe it's because I worked with veterans of the war, both American and South Vietnamese...listened to their stories of living in a war-torn country, leaving their homeland, chased out by the Communists...

...or maybe it's because of my fascination with Civil War and World War II histories... or because I had relatives and ancestors who fought in them...

...whatever the reason, my voice might be different than many of the other bloggers blasting for peace today, because unlike some people, I believe war is sometimes necessary, because it takes two sides to have peace, and let's face it, there are some countries, some leaders, who are too power-hungry or prejudiced or full of hate to agree to peace, if it means giving up power or control or hatred...

"When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace"

~Jimi Hendrix

Even so I believe it's wrong to quit striving for peace, to keep trying and believing peace is possible. To try anything and everything before going to war, short of giving in to tyranny and giving up freedom. 

"Peace is not merely a distant goal that we seek, but a means by which we arrive at that goal."

~Martin Luther King, Jr.

In writing my great-great grandfather's story, based on his memoir, I'm trying to be a voice for peace. He shares his experiences of a violent life before, during, and after the Civil War, but woven within the story is a longing for peace and a warning to the young. My challenge is to make sure that message is heard.

Will you help spread the word?

"If you wish to experience peace, provide peace for another."

~Tenzin Gyatso

"If war is ever lawful, then peace is sometimes sinful."

~C.S. Lewis

"The more you sweat in peacetime, the less you bleed during war."

~Chinese proverb

"Peace is not only better than war, but infinitely more arduous."

~George Bernard Shaw

"If we are to teach real peace in this world, and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with the children."

~Mahatma Gandhi

"Let us forgive each other - only then will we live in peace."

~Leo Nikolaevich Toystoy

'Cause out on the edge of darkness, there rides a peace train
Oh peace train take this country, come take me home again.

Now I've been smiling lately, thinking about the good things to come
And I believe it could be, something good has begun...

(This is a beautiful version of one of my favorite songs...but if you want old style Cat Stevens, click HERE for a version from 1976.)

Retreat, Reflect, and other wonderful R words

This morning the wind tugged at my umbrella as I headed down the road with the puppies. It sang in my ear, accompanied by the rain pattering on the umbrella, the jingle of the dogs' collars, the sound of my breathing. My morning music, creating order from the noise in my head, soothing me, energizing me, recharging me for the day.

What would I do without these morning retreats?

Retreat is Jillsy's Wednesday Word of the Day... an easy one for me.

I've always, always, needed a place to retreat to, a place where I can reflect, recover, recharge, relax...

The noise of my life, inside and out, can sap the energy right out of me; to recharge, I run away to a quiet place regularly to reflect on the noise and sort it out... or perhaps to block it out completely for a few minutes, to just sit in silence... breathing... listening to my heart beat...

Growing up, I ran to a tree in my backyard.

In high school, it was my bedroom, door closed...or in my car, alone, anywhere.

In college, it was to Galveston... the seawall or the beach, depending on the season and time of day.

At the chemical plant, it was up on a catwalk or down near the Ship Channel at sunrise, watching the pelicans.

Starting when the kids were small, I would wake early for a cup of coffee alone in the quiet kitchen - the calm before the storm. Even now I take those few minutes over my first cup of coffee to sit and be still... a chance to breathe, reflect, regroup from the day before.

And of course, I have my morning walk, a blessed stroll down a deserted road with the dogs, surrounded (mostly) by nature.

A new mini-retreat for me is an escape outside for a brisk 2 minute walk every few hours during my work day. Not just away from the computer, but out into the fresh air, where I can stretch my legs, get my heart pumping, take deep breaths, and imagine the wind blowing the cobwebs out of my brain.

My ultimate retreat? Once a year I run away to the coast with girlfriends. Spending time with my friends is a retreat in itself for me, but I also need time alone on the beach...I can't go long without the waves, the horizon, the sun, the birds...

As much as I love my family and friends, I relish this time alone.  But I also just purely need it, like I need air and food.

I know everyone doesn't feel that way...doesn't have that need for solitude or enjoy it. I worked with a man at the chemical plant who sought out others just to have company during the long night shifts. He got lonely and just wanted someone to talk to. I loved wandering the pipe alleys and catwalks accompanied only with my thoughts, but he confessed to me he hated being alone.

What about you? Do you need time alone (and how do you get it?) or, like my friend Dan, do you hate being alone? 

 

Today I'm grateful the elections are over - no more campaigning for awhile, hallelujah! I hope the politicians don't start worrying about reelection right away but get down to the business they were elected for. I'm grateful for the rain, but also grateful for the promised return of the sunshine tomorrow. I'm grateful we had enough money to pay bills this week AND get some groceries this evening! I'm grateful I heard from 2/3 of my kids yesterday in response to my "I miss you - please check in!" email I sent (D, where are you??) 

 

Thanksgiving Comes First (p.s. peace)

On my way out of the local drugstore yesterday afternoon, unable to resist a big CLEARANCE sign, I paused beside the aisle of Halloween merchandise, before remembering (duh!) I don't decorate anymore. 

That's when I spotted something green and red in the corner of my eye. No...it couldn't be. Not yet! I allowed myself one glance, and yes, sure enough, it was a shelf full of Christmas, impatiently waiting for Halloween to get the heck out of the way. 

But where was Thanksgiving?

Perhaps it was there, somewhere...probably in the form of two or three ceramic turkeys allotted a few inches of shelf space.

In a dark corner.

But I didn't stay to search for it. I could feel a scowl coming on, and I hate to react that way to Christmas.

People! It's just November, for crying out loud! 

Besides seeing it on my calendar, I know it's just November because the world is still in color. On my walk this morning, I watched the hollow come alive in pinks and golds under a crisp blue sky. The leaves are still gripping the trees, many just now changing from green to autumn gold, orange, yellow, purple...

Even the weather can't make up its mind - yesterday was gray, warm, humid. Today is sunshine and cool again...just cool enough for sweat pants and a light jacket...not my insulated jacket, hat and gloves I'll be pulling on in a few weeks for these early walks.

Can we please finish out this season? Give it its due respect? I want to relish autumn - my favorite season - a little while longer.  I have birthdays to celebrate, including my mother's, and then, of course, there's Thanksgiving.

Don't you think it's time to protest this brushing over of Thanksgiving? For one thing, if Christmas carries on too long, I worry about it losing its significance, becoming just one long shopping season.

I'm a Christian, so obviously the cheapening and over-commercialization of Christmas concerns me, but I would think even non-Christians would get tired of having it thrown in their faces for months. 

I love Christmas, but I'm not ready for green and red. (We don't need green and red when we still have oranges, yellows and purples.) But I do love the hokey-ness of Christmas, the nostalgic feel to it. I love Christmas music, Christmas movies, baking cookies, decorating the tree, wrapping gifts, hanging stockings, sending out cards (and receiving them!). It's for these very reasons that I don't want it to start until after Thanksgiving. Let's keep it special. Simple.

Besides, I don't like having to dust my snowmen collection or the Nativity scene. If you have to dust it, it's been out too long.

The truth is, retailers just don't make any money from Thanksgiving, but the potential from Christmas is outrageous. No wonder they want to get it started earlier and earlier.

It's up to us to put on the brakes. Anyone with me?

If you're a blogger, consider spreading the protest on your site. If you're a consumer...write letters or simply refuse to give in to the marketing monster until after Thanksgiving.

This post was triggered by a protest from blogger Suldog. Click HERE to read his where he makes several good points. One that really struck me was something he saw on an episode of Mr. Rogers. This is what Suldog wrote:

On one of his shows, he was explaining the concepts of noisy and quiet. In order to illustrate the difference, he took his television audience to see a musician friend of his.

Fred had the musician, a percussionist, play his many instruments. Some were very loud, while others were soft and gentle. Afterward, Mister Rogers looked into the camera and spoke. He said, "In music, the silences are just as important as the loud parts."

The silences are just as important as the loud parts.

That’s a very profound statement. It’s true, isn’t it? Without the silences, it’s all just noise. The silences – the pauses, the gaps, the unfilled spaces – are what give the notes their power and meaning. And when it comes to a holiday, the silences – the quiet times preceding (or even within) the holiday – are extremely important. They give the celebration its power and meaning. That’s why I care so deeply about this. We all need some silences. They’re just as important as the loud parts.

Thanksgiving is a silence we need. A time to ponder and reflect and be still for just a bit. To remember the good things in our lives instead of focusing on the negative.

In honor of Thanksgiving, at the end of each post this month, I'm going to share a few things I'm grateful for. I thought of these this morning on my walk...

Today I'm grateful Tom wasn't involved in the accident along his route to work that I heard about on the news ...I'm grateful my friend Randy was reunited with his lost dog Chuck...I'm grateful I live in a country where I am free, where I can vote...

...which is what I did this evening. I sure hope you voted, too!

P.S. Thursday, November 4, is a special day. Bloggers around the world will join together for a Blog Blast for Peace.

This will be my first year to participate (thanks to Jillsy for the heads up!) and I'm already feeling the energy. Please join me by blogging (click HERE to find out more about Blog Blast for Peace) or by just taking a few minutes that day to wish for peace, or...whatever you can think of that might promote peace. (On Thursday, leave me a comment and let me know what you did.) 

Oh, when the saints go marching in...

I'm a genealogy nut. I haven't devoted any time to research lately, though, because it's too addicting...one name leads to another and to another and to another...next thing I know 10 hours have flown by with my nose in a book or my eyes on a computer screen, pencil clenched in my fingers, nothing to eat but a Snickers bar from a vending machine.

I just can't afford the time or calories right now.

Mostly what I love about genealogy is finding out about the lives of my ancestors, imagining what their lives were like based on the few tidbits of information I gather from census and land records. I love reading about the times they lived through, the obstacles they overcame. It inspires me, makes me realize my little piddly problems are nothing compared to what they survived.

I collect photographs of my ancestors and family members. Surround myself with them. It's probably no surprise those are my favorite heirlooms, followed by anything handmade or handwritten. I peer into their faces and beyond into the background of the photographs, looking for clues, imagining the moments just before and after.

I examine their letters, caress the doilies and quilts, and wonder how, in a world of automobiles, no Walmarts, no electricity, they had time to produce anything like this for fun or beauty?

Right now I'm focused mostly on one ancestor, my great-great grandfather. Every day I pore over his words, try to imagine his voice narrating his story, try to fill in the gaps between his words, interpret what he's telling me.

His is a violent story - he didn't sugar-coat the past, but pulled back the layers exposing all the ugliness. And boy, was it ugly.  Sometimes it's tough for me, having to put myself into it, walk in his shoes and see through his eyes.

There's sadness and remorse in his story, but also joy. I know from my grandmother's memories of him that he exuded fun and excitement. Thoughtfulness. Love. He loved his granddaughters.

He was a poet - writing about the beauty around him, the turbulent times he lived in, the aching in his heart from great loss.

And yet he was a violent man, living...well, fighting to survive...in a violent time. Somehow I have to meld the separate parts together. I have a responsibility to him, my grandmother's memories of him, and the honor of my family to ensure the lessons he learned from his life are heard clearly in my telling.

When I converted to Catholicism 15 or so years ago, I learned about All Saints' Day (today) and All Souls' Day (tomorrow). Per Wikipedia: ...Catholics celebrate All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day in the fundamental belief that there is a prayerful spiritual communion between those in the state of grace who have died and are either being purified in purgatory or are in heaven (the 'church penitent' and the 'church triumphant', respectively), and the 'church militant' who are the living.

I'm not here to debate whether there's a communion between the living and the dead, but I have to admit, I like the idea of having relatives in heaven praying for me. I think of my g-g-grandpa up there, along with my other loved ones who have passed, cheering me on, praying for encouragement and tenacity and understanding for me as I plod along...which reminds me of my favorite lines in "When the Saints Go Marching In"...

We are traveling in the footsteps 
Of those who've gone before 
But we'll all be reunited 
On a new and sunlit shore.

So especially today and tomorrow, I'll think of them, these multitudes who's blood and genes and DNA I share (who gave me the thin hair??) and say a prayer for their souls, may they be resting in peace. I'll tell them thanks...I really don't hold a grudge about my hair...and try to live my life in a way that honors their memories and their hard work.

We thank you, O God, 
for the saints of all ages, 
and for those known and loved by us, 
who have passed 
from this earthly fellowship 
into the fuller light of life with you, 
where you live and reign, 
Father, Son and Holy Spirit, 
for ever and ever. Amen.

- Anonymous

P.S. Tomorrow is Election Day. If you're like me and haven't voted yet, make sure you VOTE! Don't take this right for granted. I admit, I'm glad this day is finally here...no more sappy, hateful television ads or automated phone calls! I wish the elimination of those were going to be on the ballot!

And P.S.S. Today is the first day of National November Writing Month (or NaNoWriMo), where writers support each other in writing 15,000 words in one month, essentially a whole novel. I've never tried it before (who decided on November, when there's Thanksgiving and Christmas preparation, for goodness sake?) but since they haven't changed the month yet, I think I'm going to give in and try it. I haven't yet decided to sign up officially, because I'm not starting a new novel, just trying to finish the one I've started. I'm hoping this will be the motivation I need, even without official backing. We'll see. Wish me luck! I'm off to write 1500 words before bedtime... 

Hmmm, it's already 9:30...yes, please wish me luck. Obviously, I'm going to need it!