Long Hollow

"Hey, hey, hey - don't let another moment slip away!" (Singing my New Year's Resolution)

I don't normally make resolutions - I figure if there's an improvement to make or goal to set, why not start today, right now?

But this year is different. I'm adopting a song as my New Year's Resolution, a chant for the coming year to help me get through those inevitable stormy days:  "Hey, Hey, Hey" by Michael Franti & Spearhead. 

Everytime I hear it, it lifts me up. Makes me smile. Inspires me to look forward, to believe anything is possible, to know that I can make a difference.

It reminds me that no matter how bad things get, as long as we have tomorrow, there's hope.

And I think that's a good way to head into a new year.

A friend of mine says he's calling 2011 "The Year of YES!" I like that,and it fits right in with the song.

So here are a few of my New Year's Resolutions for 2011 (borrowed from the song):

1. I'll believe that everything is possible
2. I'll live for the ones that I love
3. I'll love for the life that I live
4. I'll try to hold on
5. I will remain with you, my friend
6. No matter how life is today, I won't let another moment slip away.

Have you made any New Year's resolutions? Please share!

This will probably be my last post for 2010; tomorrow is going to be jam-packed until well after midnight. So here's my wish for the new year: I hope 2011 is good to each and every one of you!

I'm grateful for those of you who have taken the time to read my words here. I hope in some small way they've made life sweeter for you, because just knowing you're there has made life sweeter for me!

If you have the time, take a few minutes to listen to the song, if you've never heard it. The words are below. Happy New Year!

 

 

 

"Hey, Hey, Hey" by Michael Franti & Spearhead

It’s been a long time coming that I had to say
When I wake up in the morning all I do is pray
For some guidance and protection on the streets today
And an answer to the questions I ask everyday

So tell me why do the birds that used to fly here
Tell me why do they come to die here?
And all the kids that used to run here
Tell me why do they load their guns here?

I remember in the days when
We were one heart, no need to defend
I just wrap my arms around you
Don’t give up, this song is for you

Hey, hey, hey
No matter how life is today
There’s just one thing that I got to say
I won’t let another moment slip away

I say hey, hey, hey
No matter how life is today
There’s just one thing that I got to say
I won’t let another moment slip away

I hold on, I’m trying to hold on
I hold on, hold on, hold on

From the tops of the buildings to the streets below
Between the Wall Street banks and the empty homes
Between the lines of the people standing all in a row
There’s a crack in the gutter where a flower grows

Reminding me that everything is possible
Yeah, reminding me that nothing is impossible
You gotta live for the one that you love you know
You gotta love for the life that you live you know

Singing hey, hey, hey
No matter how life is today
There’s just one thing that I got to say
I won’t let another moment slip away

I’ll sing hey, hey, hey
No matter how life is today
There’s just one thing that I got to say
I won’t let another moment slip away

I hold on, I’m trying to hold on
I hold on, I’m trying to hold on

Until the morning comes again
I will remain with you my friend
And we will ride until the sun
Goes to the place where it begun
And we will live to laugh and cry another day

Don’t let nobody ever tell you that it couldn’t be done
Don’t let nobody ever tell you that we couldn’t be one
Don’t let nobody ever tell you that it shouldn’t be sung
Don’t let nobody ever tell you you’re the only one

Singing hey, hey, hey
No matter how life is today
There’s just one thing that I got to say
I won’t let another moment slip away

I say hey, hey, hey
No matter how life is today
There’s just one thing that I got to say
I won’t let another moment slip away

Whoa, oh, oh, oh, I hold on
Whoa, oh, oh, oh
Whoa, oh, oh, oh, I hold on
Whoa, oh, oh, oh

I’m just trying to hold on
Trying to hold on
Trying to hold on

I say hey, hey, hey
No matter how life is today
There’s just one thing that I got to say
I won’t let another moment slip away

I say hey, hey, hey
No matter how life is today
There’s just one thing that I got to say
I won’t let another moment slip away

I hold on, I’m trying to hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on

[Michael Franti & SpearHead- Hey Hey Hey Lyrics]

@ www.SongLyrics.com

 

The Piano

I sit in a corner of Mam-ma's bedroom in front of the piano, fingers splayed in position, tapping out the notes I'm reading from my Lesson Book.

Or my sister's - I liked her music more than mine.

The piano is an upright, with old family photos displayed on top that distract me. 

There's one of Mam-ma's four children - my mother was the baby. 

And there's one of Mam-ma at thirteen (shortly before she was married) with her best friend. I can't remember her friend's name, but I can hear the tremble in Mam-ma's voice telling me how she died soon after the photo was taken; Mam-ma learned of her friend's death in a letter.

It's hard for me to imagine my mother as a baby ... and with that dark hair, Mam-ma looks just like my mother. Big things for a kid to wrap their heads around and try to play the piano at the same time.

 

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

 

I'm draped on the couch, watching television. Probably eating a Fudge-sicle. Mam-ma's warbly voice drifts out to me from her bedroom, dancing with the notes she coaxes from her piano with aged fingers...

...I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses...

Music I've grown up with. Part of the soundtrack of my life.

Blessed Assurance ... The Old Rugged Cross ... Rock of Ages ... What a Friend We Have in Jesus ...

I get up and close her bedroom door so I can hear the television.

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

 

But I can still hear her voice; it drifts to me even now where I sit tapping away at my computer, hundreds of miles from the piano, and seventeen years or so from her last day on earth.

I can see her sitting at the piano, fingers playing across the keys, hear her voice filling the house with melody, one hymn after another, just as she did all the days of my youth and more ... day after day, year after year.

...And he walks with me and he talks with me and he tells me I am his own ...

That's why I've wanted that piano. I wanted my kids to grow up with its song in their ears, just as I did. Wanted them to take lessons, just like I did and sit before it, plunking out the boring songs from my latest lesson, or play around on it with Chopsticks and other fun tunes, just like I did.

But time is so slippery. Somehow my kids grew up and out before I could make the piano a part of our family. 

Why didn't we move it sooner? I'm sure we had good reasons, but the exact ones evade me now.

Perhaps I didn't want to rush my mother. It's tough parting with things that belonged to loved ones, and Mam-ma's death hit her pretty hard. Nothing budged from Mam-ma's room for years.

More likely I was too focused on building this home and getting out of our tiny rent house - a process that took ten years - to worry about the piano. 

I didn't realize my mom was ready to part with it until recently. It takes up a lot of space, after all, and she's ready to have her living room back. The piano was moved there after Tropical Storm Alicia flooded the house and the wood floors needed to be redone. It was just too much work to move the piano back into Mam-ma's room.

I've begged my mom for time, racking my brain trying to figure out how to get the piano up here, making one promise ("Soon! Soon!") after another.

But we traded Tom's truck for my new car ($4900 for a truck we only paid $2500 for to begin with - we couldn't pass up that deal!) and even if we found a way to transport the piano without destroying it, there's the matter of getting it into the house. Our driveway leading to the back door is nothing more than an eroded dry creek bed right now, full of deep ruts. It would challenge a 4-wheel drive monster truck! We (as in Tom) have gathered rocks to pave it, but who knows how long it will be before it's vehicle-worthy.

This past weekend I had a grown-up moment: I realized how selfish and silly it is for me to ask my mom to hold on to the piano any longer. I don't need it; it's too late for my kids to grow up with it, and whatever I learned from my lessons flew away from my brain long ago.

I believe Mam-ma learned to play in her fifties (that's when she got the piano), but I'm not about to take more lessons now; I'd rather play my drums.

More than all of that, I realized I don't need it to keep memories of Mam-ma alive. She's singing to me right now, in my heart, without the piano.

So I'm going to tell my mom it's okay to get rid of it. It's time for me to let this dream go - or to realize it has already left. A much better tribute to Mam-ma's music will be to let it go where it will be played again, rather than be a museum piece, gathering dust.

... And the melody that He gave to me

 within my heart is ringing.

 

Amen.

Still Celebrating

I've been unplugged for a couple of days now, soaking in the presence of my family and friends, trying to live in the moment, stashing each away to pull out later in emergencies, like when the kids aren't able to be here for Christmas. I know that day will come, because it came to my parents when we moved several hours away.

So that's where I am now, at my parents, continuing the celebration. Not by way of presents, but of 'presence' (that's not original, I know, but it's so true, anyway.)

I did bring my parents something, although I don't consider it a Christmas gift ... over 100 photos from the past year (along with an album and a frame) and a promise for more. Up until three years ago, I was so diligent about printing out photos, placing them in albums, and making copies for my parents. I'm not sure why, but somehow Life got so busy in other areas that I got behind, and just the thought of catching up overwhelmed me.

Pitiful excuse, and yes, I am ashamed of myself, but I think they were pleased with the photos.

I'm sure I was forgiven.

I'm off to spend more time around the kitchen table with my parents, but here are a few images of the past few days.

My oldest, Tommy (on the right) with long-time friends of his, Matt and Amanda. I love that he has stayed close to these kids (always kids to me) - I know from experience how valuable these friendships can be.

On a side-note, Matt taught me how to use my camera in Manual! Whoo-hoo! Thanks, Matt!

Friday night menu: Spinach Enchiladas and Chicken Quesadillas while watching "It's a Wonderful Life"

Christmas Eve glow and images of Christmas past

 
Merry Christmas, Max!

 
This was Belle's first Christmas - she caught on quick!

 
A lovely mess ...

 
Texas wine from Tommy (is it wrong that my son knew I'd love it?)

 
Waiting for a Christmas feast at the Monahan's house - Tommy, Kirby with friends Graham and Amy - all grown up somehow ...

 
When you start with a salad this beautiful, you know you're going to gain 10 pounds, but it will be worth every one!

 
A tree full of mouse magic (Mary Kay collects mice.) This one begged me to take its picture. How could I resist that face?

 

"What do you want for Christmas?"

To Barbara

From Santa

Ummm ... What are these?

"You told me all you wanted for Christmas was to go dancing. Well, those are my dancing shoes. Now I'll be able to dance."

Sigh.

He does listen sometimes.

Hope you got everything you wanted for Christmas, too!

Out of the Silence, Music

Out of the silence, Music.

Out of the darkness, Light.

Out of uncertainty, Promise.

Merry Christmas Eve, everyone. This verse came to me via email, a Christmas card from a friend. I love the simplicity of it and wanted to share it with you.

I'm bleary-eyed and worn out, still working my way down a neglected Christmas to-do list after spending a late night hanging out with my kids and their friends, hearing their stories of work and travel and life after college, wondering how these kids who I swear were in high school yesterday got so dang grown up. (Our gift exchange started early - the gift of time with each other.)

But it's a good "worn-out". I've been relatively stress-free all day because I'm only focusing on the things that truly matter. Quality over quantity, and by quality, I don't mean expensive, I mean thoughtful, sincere, given with love.

Where charity stands watching and faith holds wide the door

the dark night wakes — the glory breaks, Christmas comes once more.

~Phillips Brooks

So I'm off to (attempt to) make Spinach Enchiladas because I know TG loves them. I doubt if mine come close to the ones at Case Ole, but I'll try. That's my gift to her. And I'll make chicken quesadillas for everyone else, because I know they do NOT love Spinach Enchiladas. Even the ones at Casa Ole.

For my Friday Favorite Photo(s), I'm including a few from a get-together at my friend Darla's house last weekend. Her home was full of Christmas spirit ... there were the beautiful decorations, flickering candles and food ... a gathering of wonderful long-time friends, for which I'm very grateful ... and the approach of a first Christmas together for Darla and Roy. This time last year they had just begun a friendship which blossomed quickly into a romance, then soul-tingling love, and culminated in a June Wedding.

Seeing them together helps you believe in magic and miracles and Christmas wishes come true.

Out of the silence, Music...

 

 

 

It's Christmas Eve-Eve

Up until today, I've managed to miss out on all of that holiday stress that's hitting so many people.

We're not really doing gifts, so I haven't worried about that. Lord knows we don't need all the calories from fresh baked cookies, so I haven't started baking yet (we'd eat them all, and I'd have to bake more and more and more...) I haven't had time to work on Christmas cards, so I gave myself permission to procrastinate on those, too.

But now my time's up. There are zillions of things I want to do and zillions of things I need to do, and I've barely touched any of them!!

Even though there aren't many gifts, they still need to be wrapped. And it's now or never for the cookies and cards. I had big productive plans today, but they turned into a crumbly mess, so I did what any card-carrying procrastinator would do in such a situation -  just swept them all onto tomorrow. 

Because 2/3 of the kids are here now, and the third is on his way. That's all I wanted for Christmas, and I'm getting my gift early.

Daniel is grilling chicken while I play here at the computer. After dinner, my top priority is watching "The Jerk" with the kids. I discovered quite by accident the other day that Daniel wasn't familiar with some of the key scenes! How have I been so lax in my parental duties?! So I'm making up for it tonight. (Besides, I'll have better luck getting them to watch "The Jerk" with me than "It's a Wonderful Life", and that's what it's all about, you know, being with them.)

After the movie, if there's time, I'll finish up the Christmas cards, so tomorrow, I'll just need to hit the grocery store, bake cookies, mail the cards (the post office will be open, right?), wrap gifts ... and finally, attend Mass, where I'll be reminded that all I really needed to do was give thanks and not dwell on all of this stressful stuff.

So Peace and Merry Christmas Eve-Eve to you! I'm including this video, A Social Network Christmas, in case you haven't seen it yet ... hope you enjoy it as much as I did! (Where do these people find time to do things like this?)

 

 

 

A Happy Holiday Blogtastic Shout-Out to Jillsy Girl

When Kate at Recommended Daily Dose invited me to participate in this year's Happy Holiday Blogtastic Shout-Out, I immediately thought of Jill and her blog, Jillsy Girl.

I really can't remember how it started ... did I leave the first comment or did she? However it happened, I know I'm the one who has benefited most from the friendship.

And yes, I said friendship. Despite what my daughter and others say, that you can't really be friends with someone you've never met face-to-face, I consider Jill my friend - and I don't toss that word around lightly. 

Friend (noun): someone you know, trust, and like; an ally in a fight, cause, or struggle; a patron or supporter.

Jill made it a point to comment on my blog almost every day - it bothered her that I didn't get many, if any, comments, and she was determined I'd get at least one. (It bothered me, too, and made me doubt myself and question why, oh why, I spent so many hours composing a post that would just drift into a void, seemingly unread, because without comments or feedback, that's how it feels. The answer, of course, is that I did it for myself - but it still bothered me.)

She would also email me ideas on how to make it easier to comment (she was brainstorming for me!) and give me shout-outs on her blog ... all in the hopes of increasing the number of comments I elicited.

Just knowing she thought my posts should garner more readers and comments made me feel more confident and less alone in the huge Blog World, which you might not realize can be a lonely place at times, full of cliques, until you find a comfortable niche of your own. (Kind of like junior high.) Despite two years of blogging under my belt and quite a few blog friends, I still felt on the outside looking in until Jill reached out to me. 

She had plenty of readers, her own circle of well-deserved fans, drawn to her beautiful photography, poetic words, and loyalty. She didn't need me, yet still she reached out to me and pulled me up, and not just with my blog, but also with my photography: through her invitation to a FlickR group, I found a new network of support and encouragement that helped ignite my latest obsession... 

...which led to Confessions of a Photography Addict. Go ahead - click over there for a second. See the photograph at the top? It's mine, but Jill took it and created that beautiful banner.

I didn't ask her to - she just did it.

That's a friend.

And a few days ago, she sent me an email with marketing ideas for my Silpada jewelry business. Can you believe it?

The thing is, I suspect I'm not the only one she supports like this. She is an amazing woman. I don't have to meet her face to face to know that. 

But I hope to someday, anyway. 

Thank you, Jill! I doubt you know just how much your friendship has meant to me the past few months.

Now do yourself a favor and click HERE to check out her blog, and while you're there, be sure to click on the link to JG Studio Cards. I can vouch for the beauty of Jill's cards, all created from some of her own amazing photographs.

And be sure to visit A Recommended Daily Dose (another wonderful blog) to find links to the other shout-outs! Thanks so much for hosting this and inviting me, Kate! I'm glad we've connected here in the Blog World, too!

 

 

 

No Red Moonbeams for Me ... A Long Hollow Update

"It's starting to feel more like Christmas to me. The temps are staying low, there's the smell of wood smoke in the air, my tree is up and decorated, cards are trickling in, and TG is home."

I wrote this several days ago - just one of many posts that wither on the vine because I run out of time to finish them before they're outdated. Those low temps are a mere memory for me now ... today might have been the first day of the winter solstice, but it felt like shorts and flip-flop season here again.

Even so, I do feel Christmas with all of the twinkling lights, the Merry Christmas wishes everywhere, get-togethers with friends, and the anticipation of having all of my kids back in the nest in just a few days...

And though it's not much, I've gathered a few gifts for others - just thinking of giving helps bring on the Christmas spirit, doesn't it? 

I think it's the power of the Christmas spirit that has kept me from caring too much about my camera lens or worrying about replacing it or being too upset about all the cloud cover that kept me from witnessing red moonbeams last night during the lunar eclipse.

I captured a few okay photos of the moon, some before the eclipse started and a half dozen during the partial, but during the total eclipse, the paparazzi clouds crowded around so close I couldn't even get a glimpse! I'll post the ones I snapped on Confessions later - and I'll resist tinting them. (Well, I might play with one or two, but I'll 'fess up about it.)

Meanwhile, here's a quick Long Hollow update:

....We're officially in a drought again - the bill has arrived for all of those beautiful, sunny days we've been blessed with the last few weeks, I guess. It's hard to believe just a few months ago the creek and ponds were flooding, and now they're drying up by feet a day.

In the mornings on the back deck, I can still hear the little waterfall, but it's barely a dribble now and will soon be gone. There's no promise of any significant rain for months.

....Rocks have appeared on the side of the damn dam - not just piles of rocks, but orderly rocks, reminding me of the old stone bridges in Virginia. If the stonework is continued all down the side, it wouldn't be such a sore sight. Still not as beautiful as the pond we had before, but not quite the scar we've had on the edge of our property, either.

....There are still a few small flowers blooming along the road...or at least there were a couple of weeks ago when I took these. I've been walking in the dark lately!

....The bad news is, these vicious burs are also growing, in the field where Belle and Max like to chase mice. We pulled dozens and dozens out of Max's fur a few weeks ago - like velcro on velcro!

....We're heading into Cedar Fever and Major Allergy Attack Season here in Austin. Juniper berries are ripe, waiting for the pollen explosions that look like a tree has caught on fire - poof! These warm temperatures just feather that love nest along.

My challenge this year is to capture one of those explosions on my camera. Tough to do! You never know which one is about to blow! And part of the challenge will be keeping my camera focused while I'm sneezing!

....The rest of this week I'm just focused on Christmas, though - on the simplicity of love and of giving, exemplified by the birth of Jesus so many years ago. I'm going to send cards out to those who I know look forward to them (and will forgive me if they arrive a day or two after Christmas Day), wrap up a few gifts that I hope will bring smiles to faces I love, and tomorrow I get to visit Hope House again, witnessing and recording the youth of our church bringing smiles to the faces of others - of strangers - with pizza, gifts, a few off-key carols, but mostly with the proof that someone cares.

I hope you have a beautiful Christmas week, simple and full of love.

 

 

It's going to be a long night...

Or maybe a long day tomorrow.

I haven't decided which.

You see, tonight is the final lunar eclipse of 2010, and I don't want to miss it. My FlickR friend Debbie sent me a link to a CNN article featuring this enticing image...

and this opening line...

"Skygazers hoping to catch the last lunar eclipse of 2010 on Tuesday morning best be ready to stay up late (or wake up very early) to watch the full moon as it goes through a range of dramatic color changes."

So now you know what I'll be doing tonight. How could I resist a full moon going through a range of dramatic color changes?

What a combination!

Here's a bit more from the article (click HERE to read the whole thing):

"During a lunar eclipse, the moon, the Earth, and the sun align so that the sun's rays are shielded from the moon. An eclipse of the moon can only take place if the moon is full, and only if the moon passes through some portion of Earth's shadow, which is composed of two cone-shaped parts, one nested inside the other.

The start of the total eclipse is expected around 2:41 a.m, when the entire moon passes through the Earth's umbra, or inner shadow, which blocks all direct sunlight from reaching the moon.

The moon will take on a vibrant red color until 3:35 a.m., according to NASA.

Before and after the total eclipse, the moon will pass through the penumbra, or outer region of the Earth's shadow, where Earth blocks some of the sun's rays, but not all."

Did you read that? "... vibrant red color..."

So think of me standing out in the dark tonight with my camera, trying to capture a red full moon, while you snuggle under your covers.

Unless you're crazy like me.

Oh, and pray for a cloudless night. Or maybe a few wispy clouds.

But first, I've got to take advantage of Daniel being home - we're off to watch Russell Crowe's Robin Hood. 

I'm thinking it will be a long night AND a long day. (Wish me good luck!)

Will there be red moonbeams....?

 

 

A Twirling Good Time

I experienced another dream come true Friday night, one I had given up on long ago, and I owe it all to a tall, bearded stranger in a red sweater.

No, it wasn't Santa. This tall stranger's name was Phil (or Bill...the music was loud and my hearing isn't what it used to be!) Phil/Bill needed someone to dance with, and I just happened to be at the right place at the right time, on the edge of the empty dance floor, probably tapping my foot as I studied the drummer of this amazing rocking, funky, blues-y band, Seventh Sun.

(No photos because of the camera fiasco last week; I didn't feel like lugging around my zoom lens. But click on their name to check out the website and hear a sample of their music. The photo below is from their website.)

Tom and I were at a company Christmas party - an annual event hosted by one of Tom's old bosses, Al. It's a reunion for Tom...he gets to reconnect with past coworkers from his first job in Austin, at a small engineering company.

Al knows how to throw a party...there's always a lot of food, but best of all, a live band, usually Relentless Jones;  one of the ex-coworkers is a member.

They're great, but for some reason they weren't available this year, so we were introduced to Seventh Sun. No compaints! They're a relatively new band, but they were awesome!

So back to my dream..

On countless Saturday nights, years ago when I was single, I would stand wistful on the edge of various dancefloors, envious of the women twirling round and round and round. My boyfriend was a solid two-stepper, but not a 'twirler'. Same with Tom, and since I expected him to be my main dance partner for the rest of my life, I let go of that twirling dream.

I've also never been very good at jitterbugs or 'swings', so last night when Phil/Bill swung me around, I apologized and told him I just wasn't good at it.

"You're a good dancer! Just don't step out so far and you'll be able to twirl."

Twirl? Did he say 'twirl'? So I tried it.

And I twirled.

And twirled. 

And twirled.

Round and round and round I went (I felt like a ballerina!) then he pulled me back, twirled himself around, twirled me around some more, and then we slid smoothly back into a quick two-step.

Sigh.

Dream come true.

Obviously, there are no expiration dates on dreams.

 

 

 

A Belated Friday (or Saturday) Favorite Photo

Yesterday morning when I started out on my walk with the dogs, the sun was just an orange candle glow barely cutting through the darkness on the horizon. I could barely see the road, and if the dogs stepped off of the white caliche, forget it - they just melted into the black on either side of me.

But light came quickly - first a soft gray wash over everything, then hints of color appeared, like someone was dabbing the scenery with a brush...a touch of gold on the bordering weeds, some green on the cedars, a bit of blue in the sky, clouds of pink, wispy stripes.

TG is home, with a job (hallelujah!) but since we only have two running vehicles, I have to shuttle her two and from work, which means I have to get an earlier jump on my morning routine. Hence, the walk in the dark. I enjoy having her home again, though, and I'm grateful I get to spend that time with her in the car every day.

The dogs were a little confused about the earlier start, but I think they enjoyed it. I know I did...the rest of the day was busy and rushed, and the memory of that calm dawn was a nice place to slip away to when I needed to catch my breath.

Tom brought Daniel home yesterday afternoon, but I didn't even get much of a chance to visit with him before we had to head out the door to a Christmas party. I've been trying to make up for it today...snatches of conversation while swapping out loads of laundry, snapping photos of him splitting wood for his dad, discussions on books and movies. And he'll be here several days, so I look forward to movies and games of ping-pong and more discussions.

Speaking of ping-pong, his friend Austin is here, and we're about to go play. Daniel just poked his head in the door to remind me. It's too gorgeous of a day to spend anymore time on the computer!

So my Friday Favorite Photo is this one I snuck of Daniel, even though I actually took it this morning. But it's my blog, my rules, and I'm already a day late anyway, right? (I'd include one of TG, but there's that promise of no photos...) 

Hope you're having a fabulous Saturday!

 

 

 

 

More Candles

I went to church tonight.

I've been to church at night a lot lately. It is a holy season, after all.

I like going at night. I'd rather not go anywhere, of course, but if I can't just stay home, church isn't a bad place to be.

I like approaching the lit building from the dark parking lot, feeling its warmth wrap around me when I enter. I like the shade of turquoise the stained glass behind the altar takes on after the sun goes down.

It's beautiful when the sun shines through... no, not just beautiful... glorious!

But at night, it takes on a quiet beauty. A calm beauty. Meditative.

Tonight we went for a penitential service. It's the season of Advent, a time for reflection, and what's a better trigger for reflection than a thorough "examination of conscience"?

The priest or deacon prompts us with questions like "Have I been dishonest?" or "Have I coveted my neighbor's Nikon D90?" Okay, he didn't say that last one, but it might apply to me, and I have to be honest with myself! That's the whole point!

It's communal, in that we're there together, but private, in that we don't have to answer out loud (praise God!)

I think this is an exercise all of us should do regularly, though, no matter what our beliefs. Well, all of us who want to be good people. Granted, there are quite a few questions that pertain to faith in a Catholic Examination of Conscience, but many of them (like the ones above) can apply to anyone and serve to make us stop and take a real look at ourselves.

Lying, cheating, coveting...those are no-no's in almost all ideologies. (And I prefer not to think about the ones that don't consider them no-no's.)

I know, for me, this is a great exercise.  I definitely need to do this from time to time...look myself straight in the heart and ask these blunt questions. Because I can be pretty tricky. Pretty convincing. I can fool myself into believing I'm above any of that sinful stuff...but when I grab a flashlight and look in the corners...tsk, tsk, tsk...I can see it's time to grab a broom.

The other reason I like going to church in between Sundays is it's a chance to light another candle, to send my prayer up 24/7 plus some. Lord knows I'm praying for my own family right now, and our needs, but tonight it hit me more than ever that there are people out there mourning loved ones over the holidays...their parents, their children. There are people spending the holidays alone. There are people with even less money than we have and not nearly as much credit available to give the illusion of having money. There are people struggling with illness, depression, loss... and they need all the prayer they can get.

So tonight I lit a candle for them.

 

Empty Pockets

"Empty pockets never held anyone back.

Only empty heads and empty hearts can do that."

~Norman Vincent Peale

I spent the first part of the evening paying bills, whittling away at our bank account. Easy come, easy go. I already knew - and the kids knew - this would be a record-breaking teensy Christmas, as far as gifts go.

And on most levels, we're okay with that. We've never gone overboard with the gifts (not that we were ever able to!) and I really hate the commercialization of Christmas and the emphasis on BUY, BUY, BUY!

...but still, seeing it reinforced like that...ouch!

Let Santa know what you want, darlin's

(and remember he's on a budget!)

because Mama and Daddy have empty pockets.

A little down in the dumps, I wrote something on Facebook about how paying bills sure challenges your Christmas spirit.

Like a (gentle) smack on the face, a friend wrote back, "Being able to pay bills is the silver lining that should brighten one's Christmas spirit?????"

What a wake-up call! (Thank you, Ray!) It reminded me, and I'm very grateful, that no matter how broke we've been over the years, how worried I'd be about paying all the bills (not paying them off, mind you...just making the payment), we've always had enough. Sometimes, just enough. Barely. And sometimes there was a little juggling going on. But it worked. There was enough.

Compared to others, we have it made... nothing fancy...maybe not everything we want, but everything we need...and even some of what we want plus room to carve out a little for family and friends...

And we have plenty of other blessings that can't be bought at any price.

Whaddaya know. Having empty pockets can be a good thing! There's nothing left but faith and trust and lots of determination and imagination. 

And the sky's the limit on those... They're free.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Star Light, Star Bright... (or Gemini-Cricket!)

 

Tom came home with a horrible headache last night and went straight to bed. I felt bad for him, but that's not what this post is about.

It's about stars. And wishing upon stars.

Because he was out of commission, I took over his nightly chores, which included feeding the puppies. And that's how I found myself shivering out on the front walk, staring up at the sky while the dogs ate, searching for meteors. There was supposed to be this fantastic meteor shower going on, a geminid meteor shower, but I didn't see anything special, just the same few stars - the half moon reflecting on our metal roof was too bright, I think. It was still fabulous, and I tried snapping some shots of the reflection, but I was shivering and Belle kept jumping on me...

(Those are my excuses if the photos don't turn out.)

I finally gave up and came inside.

But then this morning at 5:45, when I turned on the kitchen television while I started the coffee, the nice newsperson reminded me again about the meteors, so I dropped the coffee, slipped a green fleece jacket over my pink fleece robe and ran outside, grateful that we live in the country where no one would see me in such a fashion faux pas. 

I didn't even grab my camera. I just wanted to see a 'falling star', dang it!

So I stood there on the rock path in front of our house, neck painfully and unnaturally arched backwards so I could stare up at the sky, and I saw...nothing. Well, I saw a few stars, but that was it. 

I decided to give it a few minutes.

Soon more stars appeared, like freckles on a red-headed child on a summer day...faint stars filling in the spaces between the big ones.

That's when I remembered something I'd forgotten: the vastness of the universe. All those zillions of stars above me reminded me that we're just tiny dots living on a tiny dot amongst zillions and zillions of tiny dots.

Why does that always make me feel good?

So many stars...

At that point, I figured I had missed the meteor shower, but I couldn't waste those stars.

"Star light, star bright..."

And then I saw it, just on the edge of my vision. Very faint, but I'm sure I saw it. A meteor. A falling star.

I saw three more before my neck told me I better stop.(It's been giving me fits all day.)

But it was a magical morning, for sure.

A morning of falling stars. A morning of wishes.

Fingers crossed, soon I'll see mornings of wishes come true...

(I wish I could claim these photos, but the one above is of the Perseid Meteor Shower by Gary Randall and the one below by Creation Photography, both snagged on FlickR. Click the photos to see more of their work.)

 

 

 

 

This is my contribution to Jillsy Girl's One Word Wednesday Blog Hop. This week's word is "Wish". Want to play along? Just write a post and add it to the list. But whether you play or not, be sure to check out the other participants.

A weekend with dogs and twenty-somethings

This was my kind of weekend, nicely balanced between live music, dancing, socializing with friends, and just hanging out, spending low-key time at the house with (some of) the kids and Tom.

Oh, and dogs. Lots of dog time, too.

Oldest son Tommy arrived first from Dallas. A few hours and a movie later, his girlfriend Kirby pulled in from San Antonio. Her puppy Josie was so happy to see Tommy!

We started talking and stayed up way too late! But these two had spent the previous weekend in New York City, celebrating Tommy's birthday, and I wanted to hear all about it (as in "live vicariously through them.")

Except for Max's late morning vet appointment (that'll be another post), Saturday was a clean slate until the party in the hangar that evening.

We just spent the rest of the day hanging out, with and without the dogs. 

Mostly with.

My dogs adore Josie - she's the 'new kid on the block', but their attention can be overwhelming. Even Haley came over to play. 

She was especially glad to see Tommy.

And if Haley wants to give you sugar, you better believe you're going to get some sugar.

We got a break from dogs at the Christmas party in the hangar that night. 

Almost.

But Tommy and Kirby found a safe haven...dog-free with a perfect view of the band.

 

If you read my last post, you'll know that the evening involved lots of eating, drinking, talking, laughing, singing, dancing, drumming... and somehow turned into the morning before we knew it. We hurried home before the sun could catch us and grabbed a few hours of zzz's before heading back out to church.

(Are my lack of zzz's showing? Yeah, I thought so. And this is with make-up!)

Thank goodness all we had to do the rest of Sunday was read the newspaper, snooze on the couch, and watch football...

...and hang out with  dogs. 

We're easily entertained.

Wildlife was all around us. I spotted these love birds...

...and look at this handsome specimen! (He just loves it when I take his picture!)

Twinkies Josie and Belle led the way home...

...where I took advantage of Tommy and Kirby's offer to help me finish decorating the tree. The last few years he lived at home, Tommy would help carry up the Christmas boxes, but getting him and the other two to help decorate the tree was, well, let's just say it was like a throwing a wet blanket on the fire of my Christmas spirit. I just quit asking. Decorating it by myself was bittersweet, all of those memories flashing through my mind of Christmases past when they were so young and full of Christmas magic, but it was preferable to having the Three Scrooges helping.

Yep, this is how I know my baby is all grown up...offering to help when he knows how many ornaments I like to hang on the tree. How does he describe it? Oh, yeah, like "someone dumped a trash can on it."

Poor Kirby didn't have a clue, but she seemed to have fun going through all of Tommy's handmade ornaments from kindergarten on up.

I think all in all, it all turned out very nice...the tree, the weekend, and the boy. 

 

 

 

 

 

Rocking in the Hangar - a Christmas tradition

I didn't see my camera hit the concrete; it all happened way too fast...the oh-crap look on Tom's face, the metallic clunk that made me wince. By the time my eyes caught up to it, it already lay still and naked on the hangar floor, staring up at me, the lens skidding several feet away.

Tom had been holding it for me, the strap hooked over one shoulder. Somehow, in the process of goodbye hugs and handshakes with friends who were leaving the party early, the strap slipped off and he couldn't catch it in time.

I think that's what happened anyway. Tom was so upset about it, I didn't ask many questions. I was just relieved that the only damage is a small nick in the lens body, possibly a super glue fix. The camera itself is fine and I was just grateful I was using my basic lens, not my more expensive zoom lens.

If the lens can't be fixed...oh, well. 

No, I'm serious! I just wasn't that upset about it. It surprised me - if you read my blog much, you know I love that camera and I'm obsessed with taking photos - but it's just a thing. It took me a few minutes to convince Tom to quit worrying about it and just enjoy the evening.

Because we were at the annual Vernon Hangar Christmas party, listening to an awesome band and much too busy talking, eating, drinking, dancing, and laughing. No room for worrying about a thing, even if the thing was my camera.

Tommy's sweet girlfriend Kirby offered to let me borrow her Canon Rebel; I took her up on it for a few shots (one of her with her grandmother and one with her aunt), but then I was happy to just let her be in charge of snapping the memories. I know she'll share.

Tall propane heaters chased the chill from the hangar where the band, Soulution, mesmerized us with their musical talent and got us dancing...also good for chasing the chill away.

Besides the music from the band, we were also entertained by the Vernon's daughter Sierra singing everything from Lady Gaga to Christmas carols, and eventually even Kirby gave in to her uncles' and aunts' pleading (she's the Vernon's niece) and performed for us. Oh, my gosh, she has an amazing voice! Too much talent for one family - not fair! 

Perhaps it was because those two had the gumption to sing in front of the crowd, I'm not sure, but guess what? I made my public debut on the drums!

I was terrible, I know, but the point is, I actually played in front of People! They all told me how good I was, but I think it's only because I wasn't as terrible as they expected me to be. Even Tom said he was impressed (I've never even played in front of him!)

The drummer had let two others take turns on his drums, and I just couldn't resist taking a turn myself. I sat down, picked up the sticks and banged away. Such a sense of freedom and fun! I just kept drumming and drumming and drumming and they had to come and pry the sticks out of my hands and pull me away!

No, not really, but I did take a much longer turn than the others, I think; I finally came out of the spell and released the sticks of my own volition. The drummer questioned me about my drumming experience and offered me some tips. Yeah, that's right...I was talking "drums" with a real live professional drummer.

The night flew by. Before we knew it, it was 3 a.m. Clocks always seem to spin faster when you're having fun, don't they?

Thanks again to the Vernons for hosting another wonderful, rocking Christmas Celebration in the Hangar!

And now here are some of the highlights I captured before the camera catastrophe...

Hostess Rachel - this woman knows how to throw a party!

Me and my friend Kim - I haven't seen her in well over a year. Maybe two! She slipped off to the other side of the lake and got married. It was so good getting to see her again and finally meet her husband!

Tommy and Kirby in the best seats in the house...an OV-1 Mohawk.

Soulution! 

(Heads up to those of you in the Austin area - this band really, truly rocks! You can find them at Cedar Street, Maggie Mae's and other spots, playing both covers and original work. We listened to their CD today, all original music - I love it! I have a feeling Tom and I will be going to see them again soon.) 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our Lady...

The story goes that in the winter of 1531, Juan Diego, a humble Mexican peasant, was on his way to morning Mass in Mexico City when the Virgin Mary appeared to him on a hill along his path; she asked him to speak to the bishop for her about building a church in that spot.

The bishop didn't believe Juan Diego at first. So Mary provided a miracle as proof: she directed Juan Diego to the top of the hill where he found flowers miraculously blooming in the frost. He gathered some in his cloak and took them to the bishop. When they fell from his cloak, an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe remained where the flowers had been.

The church was built, the story spread, and within a short time, six million native Mexicans had themselves baptized as Christians...

If you're wondering why Mary didn't just ask the bishop herself, click here and here for more info and to read the whole story.

Our church has held a Mass for Our Lady of Guadalupe for several years now, but this was the first year Tom and I have been able to go. We jumped at the chance...and not just because of the legendary homemade tamale dinner that always comes afterward.

But, I confess, that made it a lot easier to decide what to do with our free Friday night.

The Castillo family makes these tamales and the rest of the meal from scratch every year for the traditional parish dinner. That's a reason to say hallelujah for sure!

Traditional Mexican sweets... almost too pretty to eat!

Almost.

A plate full of YUM! Homemade tamales, rice, beans, and picadillo. (I passed on the menudo. Actually, it wasn't even offered to me. I think they just knew I wasn't tough enough.)

 

Home Again - My Friday Favorite

Today I'm just living, as in focusing on each moment, especially the good ones, and not letting myself get swept away into the next one too quickly.

It's been a crazy, snowball week with lots of emotional ups and downs and too many hours away from home. I've lit three candles in the church in one week - that should tell you something.

Waking up to Friday was such a relief. And this has been a full day itself, of mostly good moments, including lunch with my middle son Daniel, a good phone conversation with TG, and now time with oldest son Tommy, home for the weekend. His girlfriend Kirby is pulling up even as I type this. Details will follow, but for now, after a movie and lots of catching up, it's time to call it a day.

I've taken tons of photos this week but haven't even had time to look at all of them.

It doesn't matter; the sight of Tommy sitting at the table would trump them all as my Friday Favorite... not the best photo technically or of him, but it reminds me of all I have to be grateful for...all the ups of the week rather than the downs. 

(I wish the other 2/3 of my kids could be home this weekend, too, but they're finishing up finals - please say a prayer for them!)

Hope you've all had a happy Friday full of sweet memory-moments, too!

 

 

Meetings

I had to go to a meeting tonight.

In another life, I had at least one meeting almost every night of the week, and sometimes during the day. Meetings go hand-in-hand with volunteering, and I was pretty much a professional volunteer and community busy-body...

There were PTA meetings, PTA officer meetings, Room Parent meetings, Site-Based Committee meetings, City Long Range Planning Committee meetings, Education Foundation meetings, Education Foundation Grant Committee meetings, Parent Action Committee meetings, Library Board meetings, Cub Scout committee meetings, Boy Scout committee meetings, School Board meetings, Band Parent meetings, Band Board meetings...and then all of those little sub-committees and special projects that you have to get together for...theater programs, band programs, fundraisers of all kinds...and then different hats like Confirmation teacher and UIL Spelling coach. Plus all the kids' meetings and practices....

Whew. Now I'm tired.

Somehow, all those years, I managed to side-step the top job. Never the President, always the Vice-President, the Assistant Whatever... sometimes a minor sub-committee chairman, but usually just an eager and hard-working helper and supporter, letting as much responsibility slide off my shoulders as possible, because I had work to do in all of those other committees! 

As the kids got older and the bills piled up (because we were pretty much a one-income family - volunteering doesn't pay well) and I started working more and more part-time jobs, I let the volunteering and the meetings fall by the wayside. I only had one volunteer gig left, and even though I was responsible for taking the minutes, we didn't meet that often. 

Somehow last month I became Chairman of that Committee.  

I could have said no, of course, but realized it would have left some ripples instead of keeping the waters flowing smoothly. Since this is an organization I care about, it was important to me to keep it flowing. And besides, I feel like I can do a good job. 

So tonight I went to a meeting to show support for a cause that's important to us. I didn't want to go...I had things to do here (like finish decorating my tree!)... but I knew it was important, something bigger than me, and I think I've missed that. I will never let myself get pulled in a zillion different directions again and never fill up my calendar with one meeting after another, no matter how good the causes are. I have to have balance in my life now more than ever. 

But I'm aware of that box I'm trying to fill up, and I want it filled with good things. Yeah, Roger's example is still on my mind... a full life of working hard, playing hard, and giving back.

And, besides it was just one meeting, for crying out loud.

What's in Your Box?

It's been a morning of sadness for me. A morning for shedding tears.

Several emails waited quietly in line to inform me that a friend from my DuPont days was killed over the weekend. 

Roger wasn't one of my closest friends out there - I'm not sure if we ever even worked the same shift, and if you weren't on the same shift, you rarely saw someone. When you were off, they were working, and vice versa.

But we hired on at the same time and spent several months together in a portable building, learning how to be plant technicians while the columns and structures across the street slowly grew into a methanol and syngas plant. And for the next thirteen years our paths criss-crossed at shiftchange and shutdowns and hours of overtime (his, not mine) when I'm sure we spent time together.

I know we did because, even though conversations from just this past weekend are already wispy clouds, drifting from my memory, I have no trouble recalling Roger's voice describing some of the fun times he had as a Houston policeman, and I can vividly picture him standing in the hallway near our lockers, hear him singing "Guac-a-mole in my shoes" (to the tune of that old Joe South song, "Walk a Mile in My Shoes") in his big country voice.

I hear him singing it every time I fix guacamole, in fact.

He was a good singer - Tom and I went to hear his band once, years ago. I had forgotten about that until now. 

And just a couple of weeks ago I was telling TG an embarrassing story about myself that involved Roger; thanks to him, I learned to think twice about what I wore to the plant. It was a lesson in double entendres...

...I collected concert t-shirts...I often wore them to work (pre-Nomex days)...my boyfriend and I had just gone to see "Cheap Trick"... 

Got the picture? Roger glanced at me and said, with a wink, "Cheap trick, huh?"

And I blushed. Up until that moment, I swear I thought by "cheap trick". the band meant "being mean to someone". You know, playing a dirty trick on them. It never, ever hit me that it meant...well, you know.

Not a smart thing to wear when you're one of a handful of women in a male-dominated, mostly male-populated workplace, and I was always grateful to Roger for waking me up to those kinds of things. He knew I was just naive.

But it truly amazes me (and it amazed TG) that I could be so naive!

I have no idea what happened to that shirt. It had been a favorite until then...I do know I never, ever wore it to work again.

Anyway, I was lucky I worked with guys like Roger...guys who would joke around with me, but showed respect and were ready to protect me, like a bunch of big brothers.

So when I read that he died a hero, trying to protect someone, I wasn't surprised.

According to the articles (here and here), Roger and his wife were at a friend's bar celebrating a birthday. The assailant started an argument with the friend, pulled out a revolver and shot him. Roger tried to wrestle the gun from the man and was shot during the struggle.

Roger and his wife would have celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary on Dec. 19...

I knew from working with Roger that he was a good guy...but reading his obituary revealed, as they so often do, just what kind of good guy he was:

"Roger was a Master Mason and member of the Texas City Lodge 1118. He was a Shriner with the El Mina Shrine Temple in Galveston and was very dedicated to helping “his kids”. He participated in many benefits in Galveston County – helping in any way he could to raise the necessary monies that “his Shrine kids” needed.

Roger loved fishing, hunting, and cooking. He loved to cook for a crowd and for 5 years he had a shrimp boil for the Shriners Hospital employees just to let them know he cared and appreciated their hard work and dedication. He was also a wonderful musician and loved to “pick and grin” any chance he got."

I thought about my post from yesterday, about each day being a gift from God. Roger lived that theory, filling up each day he was given and giving back so much of himself.

Gifts and giving. I thought about Christmas gifts, thought about some of my favorites, including one from my brother Donnie years ago when I was about 5 and he was 10...a shoebox full of some toys he didn't want anymore, like this funky orange rubber motorcycle.

When I opened the box, though, I didn't see a bunch of unwanted toys; I saw a box full of treasure... these were toys that I identified with my big brother, toys I had coveted. He knew I would want them. Starting with an empty box, he carefully chose the toys and placed them in there himself, one at a time, then wrapped it up for me; it was a gift of love.

At that moment I imagined our lives as an empty box - that's really our gift...what we're given. It's up to us to fill it, and to choose what, if anything, we put in it each day. Ultimately, we're just giving it back, and the gift we're given is the freedom to make what we give back a gift of love or a gift to toss in the trash. 

Reading his obituary, it's obvious Roger's box overflowed with good things; I could feel him winking at me, reminding me to stop and think about what was in mine, just like he made me stop and think about what I was wearing so many years ago. 

Rest in peace, Roger, and thanks for continuing to be a good guy in a world where we can't afford to lose a single one. 

 

(Roger's the 2nd tall one from the left in the back...I'm the 2nd one from the right in the middle row...not a great photo, but hey, it's from 1978!)

(Our first company Christmas party...Bob on the left, Roger on the right. I'll be nice and just say they were very different.)

Photo from his obituary...he still looks exactly the same to me as he did two decades ago... maybe a full box is the secret of youth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Daily Reminder

A gift from TG for my birthday years ago...

Each time I grab my keys, I see it and think of her and everything else I have to be grateful for...which is a lot, when I take the time to think about it.

And I do, thanks to TG.

I think of the potential of each day, the hope, the promise...

The responsibility.

It's a gift that keeps on giving...one of the least expensive, yet one of the most valuable.

Thank you, TG. (I love you.)

(This is my contribution to One Word Wednesday, the brainchild of Jillsy Girl. Be sure to take a look at the other contributions on the word "Gift" in the Blog Hop below.) 

 

 

 

A little of this, a little of that...

...makes a great pot of chili!

A cold front dropped in for a visit this weekend and has decided to stick around for a few days, so Tom and I took advantage of it tonight and made our first pot of Winter 2010 Chili.

We made a great team - he browned the meat and chopped onions...I added the tomatoes and seasonings and came back periodically for tastings (and adjustments) while he kept an eye on it. He knows I'm not good at the "keeping an eye on it" stage - I get distracted by too many other things, like laundry, loading the dishwasher, cleaning off my desk, decorating the tree (as you can see, the only common theme on my tree is sappy sentimentality...)

We made way too much chili for just the two of us, and we'll be sick of it by the time we finish it all, but, man oh man, it hit the spot tonight!

A little of this and a little of that makes great chili...and also a great weekend!

We started off right, with friends, music under the stars, and a bonfire. Hootenanny!

We have fun even if it's just a handful of us out there, but Friday night there was a real crowd - so many talented musicians playing all kinds of music, and enough others in the audience that Tom and I didn't feel alone. Thanks again to Jim and Liane for hosting this every week.

Saturday Tom and I took advantage of a day at home to scratch things off of our dusty to-do lists...but we threw in a walk with the dogs and a game of ping-pong (I won!), and a movie, because, after all, it was Saturday!

Sunday after Mass I needed to run into town to the bank...to the grocery store...to Goodwill to drop off boxes I've been moving from room to room for months... Normally I would procrastinate, but I knew if I didn't just go, I'd end up having to go late one night this week (NO!) or I'd be late to the infamous St. Mary's Adult Christmas Party, where we get to visit with friends, and enjoy Rudy's Barbecue (sigh), complementary "adult" beverages, and a dance floor almost all to ourselves... 

When was the last time you did the Hokey-Pokey?

I've known Mary, on the left, for years, but I just discovered that in a previous life she interviewed Lucille Ball, Frank Sinatra, and other celebrities while working at a radio station years ago in California. People are full of surprises (and I love that about people!)

 

My friend Karen didn't realize when I encouraged her to come to the dance even though her husband was out of town that I had ulterior motives...getting her to fill in on dancing with me when Tom pooped out. I think this was taken right after her first "chicken dance".

We never get to spend time with these two anymore...Tom D. helped us build our house (we couldn't have done it without him!) and I loved subbing for Berniece's English and theater classes in my other life...she is an amazing teacher!

And this couple is proof that you should never give up on love popping up where you least expect it (and they're also the best dancers, although I couldn't catch a good one of him flipping her.) 

A little of this, a little of that...works with chili and weekends!

 

 

 

Boosam and other pieces of my life, circa 71-73

A high school classmate passed away this week. Becky. A friend noticed the obituary and sent it to a group of us via email.

We're not sure how she died - I suspect it had something to do with her heart since donations to Go Red for Women were suggested.

She was living in Italy. Rumor had it that she had met and married a count while on a trip there years ago. For once, rumor actually reflected real life, except, according to her obituary, she met him on a trip to Greece, and relocated to Italy, where she "transformed a faded, tired country house into a magnificent, lively villa. Her gardens flourished and she had a magic touch with flowers. Her meals were legendary, especially her lasagnas and cheesecakes. Although her home was filled with antiquities, it was her own artwork and personal touch that made the home colorful, happy, and welcoming. She had the gift of healing people with her humor, kindness and endless generosity."

Humor, kindness and endless generosity. Yes, that sounds like Becky. I remember in 6th grade I got upset with her because she would do what other girls told her to do, for example, return their empty lunchtrays up to the window. I hated that they seemed to be using her and felt she should stand up for herself. She just shrugged, smiled, and took the trays.

Humor is what I remember most about Becky, though. Oh my gosh, she could make me laugh till I had tears in my eyes! At one slumber party, she had us all rolling on the floor with her impersonation of Johnny Cash - only she was "Johnny Trash", strumming an air guitar, making up lyrics as she went.

Maybe it was a real guitar. I wouldn't be surprised. She was so talented.

Besides Johnny Trash, she had another nickname for herself: Boosam (pronounced Boo-Sam)...sometimes "Becky Boosam" or "Henry Boosam" (Henry started out as the name of a ladybug she drew.) She had a ventriloquist doll named Edwin (who really creeped me out) and at one point she had a dead fly in a coffee can named Charlie.

Her "pet" fly.

In her living room, above a piano, hung an old mirror with an age spot in one corner. She swore the spot moved around on the mirror, and that a ghost-girl sometimes appeared to her who claimed to live in the spot.

Yes, Becky was one-of-a-kind. And sometimes her imagination was a little much for me, even though I had a pretty good imagination of my own! But we had lots of fun, riding our bikes around the neighborhood, listening to albums in her garage (she introduced me to Emerson, Lake and Palmer) and making Barbie furniture from cardboard that we intended to sale, but never got around to. She was one of the group who sat terrified with me on the front row of a theater watching the "Dark Shadows" movie. 

When I first heard the news of her passing, my mind went to the notes she wrote me way back then...silly, silly notes with funny drawings...just my kind of humor. I read them so many times I had them memorized.

It took me a few minutes, but I dug around in my closet and bedroom until I found the scrapbook that held them, safe and secure with yellowed tape, along with other pieces of my life I'd forgotten about...report cards, birthday cards, invitations to parties I don't remember, newspaper clippings, letters...even a "divorce decree" from a boy named Jarrell Wilson, complete with "attorney" and "witness" signatures. I have no memory of that, whatsoever!

But I do remember Becky. Looking through that scrapbook I realized many of my most vivid memories of those years are of Becky. We drifted apart by high school, but I kept hoping she'd come back for one of our reunions so I could remind her of these notes that still make me laugh, and tell her thank you.

Now it's too late for that... but what I can do, and what I plan on doing, is tuck them inside a card and send them to her parents...reminders and keepsakes of their special daughter. 

Rest in peace, Becky Boosam.

 

 

I Love Boxing and other confessions

I love boxing.

There. I said it.

I'm a pacifist - I hate arguments, much less fighting, but for some very strange reason, I've always loved watching professional boxing matches. When I was little, I watched every match that came on TV. My favorites were Cassius Clay and his alter ego, Mohammed Ali, as well as Sugar Ray Leonard.

Now here's another confession. Tom and I discovered tonight that we have two copies of Cinderella Man for some reason, but neither of us remembered watching it.

Turns out, we hadn't. So we did. And oh my gosh, I love this movie! Have you seen it? Of course you have, because it's been out for ages! 

But bear with me because I just saw it for the first time. It's my new favorite Russell Crowe movie, knocking Gladiator to second place.

I love it because it gives me hope - Tom and I are broke, but this reminded me how bad things got for people during the Depression...at least some people. I think my relatives were already pretty broke and they were farmers, so they tightened up a little, but it wasn't such a drastic difference.

And yes, I realize this is just a movie, and I'm sure it's dramatized, but it's based on a true story, and I appreciated how Jim Braddock and his wife stuck together, didn't let the bad times drive them apart. They held on, stayed optimistic, did what they could to make it through each and every day.

I also appreciate what a wonderful screenplay this was, written by Cliff Hollingsworth; I had heard of Max Baer (remember Jethro from the Beverly Hillbillies? He was Max Baer's son, and I was a champion at Trivial Pursuit back in the '80's) but I had never heard of Jim Braddock. The screenwriter counted on this and led me down several realistic paths even though I know the usual tricks of the trade, so I was biting my nails, wondering how it was going to end.

And then there was the boxing - I had forgotten how much I like boxing matches. They never show them on TV anymore, at least not regular TV, and I couldn't tell you who the champs are today. I'm still stuck in the 60's and 70's. But tonight I questioned myself...why the heck do I like to watch guys pounding on each other in front of an audience so much? It just doesn't make sense...but I do. There you have it.

Is there anyone else out there who is a pacifist at heart, but enjoys watching a good round of boxing? Let me know, and also let me know what you think about this movie, if you've seen it (and of course you have!)

A Boy and his Grandma - my Friday Favorite Photo

Because of Thanksgiving, I missed posting my Friday Favorite Photo last week, so I think it's only fitting that I post one from that holiday weekend today...and since today is my oldest son's 25th birthday, I think it's only fitting that I post one of him.

This was my favorite, hands down, that fit both categories...

 

Tommy and my mother have always had a special bond, as you can see from that photo as well as these next two...

And from this one, you can see he's just taking after his Daddy...

(This post is also just another excuse to wish Tommy a happy 25th birthday, roaming the streets of New York City!)

A Quarter Century? Really?

Back then it was chocolate cake, candles, games and presents. I would be stressing about having the house ready, the cake ready, the presents wrapped, enough games, food and movies to fill the time so the house wasn't destroyed by bored little boys and girls. We would have a pinata filled with candy and pray it didn't rain. Balloons blown up for that hopping game. Prizes for the games - don't forget the prizes. Goody bags. Film for the camera and batteries charged.

I would plan on being up all night, on call to settle disputes, supervise, chaperone, make sure everyone went home alive.

Oh, those were the days...

Now I'm sitting alone in my living room, thumbing through albums full of old photographs, sipping a glass of wine and fighting the urge to call my baby to make sure he made it safe and sound to New York City, where he'll be celebrating his 25th birthday in style, lucky kid. Well, not so much a kid anymore, I guess. And not so much lucky, as smart. I'm glad he's taking advantage of this time in his life to travel. And I'm grateful he has a girlfriend who likes to travel, too.

I'm really not worried about him... and I'm not going to call until tomorrow, when my excuse will be to wish him a happy birthday. He's 25, after all. Or at least he will be tomorrow around noon.

This time 25 years ago I was in pain...so much pain!!...eager to meet this new person, totally unaware of how my life was about to change. How I was about to change. But I've already written about that here and here.

The thing is, having Tommy did change me. Drastically. I'm not sure if all mothers go through a transformation like that with their firstborn child, but for me it was such a life-changing experience that it still astounds me. 

I realize I was lucky. Tommy is, and always has been, an amazing son. So sensitive and thoughtful, but with the capacity for brutal honesty. He was normal enough to cause me a lot of worry and trigger my first gray hairs, as is the firstborn's responsibility, but he learned from his mistakes. A mother can't ask for more than that.

I've never been to New York City - maybe I'll make it there for my 55th birthday. Or 60th. But if I can't go, the next best thing is knowing Tommy will be there, seeing the sites, creating birthday memories that will last him a lifetime.

Because, until tonight, I'd totally forgotten what I did for my 25th birthday...

Okay, I still don't remember it... but at least I obviously celebrated it! 

I do remember Tom's 25th, though, after seeing these photos (gosh, we were such babies!)... we were at a restaurant called Texas Tumbleweed, really big back then, and our friend Jennett made Tom this special cake (yes, it's what you think it is)...

I can't wait to see the photos from Tommy's 25th celebration. Meanwhile, here are a few I came across of his other milestone birthdays...the first...

...the thirteenth...

...the sixteenth...

...and that's it. I believe that's the last birthday he let us celebrate, except for one time he let me take him to dinner when I drove him back up to college on his birthday. And when I say "let me", that's what I mean. I probably had to insist that he let me spend some money on him.

Yeah, he's a sweetie, alright. Happy 25th birthday, Tommy!! (I love you! Be careful!!)

 

 

Stockings Stuffed and Overflowing...

When I was growing up, we didn't hang stockings - we didn't have a fireplace, for one thing, but it just wasn't part of our tradition. But I learned about stockings from Dickens and other writers, and I didn't like being left out, especially if it held the potential for more gifts, so I made my own and hung it on the wall. And what do you know? On Christmas morning, I found it filled with wonderful surprises!

We had a fireplace when my kids were small, and therefore a mantel for their stockings, so the tradition continued: an empty stocking on Christmas Eve became a personalized treasure box on Christmas morning.

As the kids have gotten older, though, Santa has had a tougher time filling their stockings. They want less and less, but what they want cost more and more, and Santa's budget doesn't stretch very far beyond the gifts under the tree. 

So the last few years Santa has tried to go the practical route and stuff the stockings with things they needed anyway...lip balm, cough syrup, acne medicine, toothbrushes...

Not exciting stuff for sure. Nothing to make them run to their stockings.

I remember a few Christmas mornings as a child when I found an orange and an apple in my stocking. What the heck? My mom explained that in the days before refrigerated trucks and year-round fruit, apples and oranges were considered an indulgence...a rare, very special gift.

There is also a legend about St. Nicholas rescuing poor maidens from being sold into slavery by tossing gold coins in through a window for their dowries...the coins landed in stockings hanging by the fire to dry. An orange or tangerine, or even an apple, in the toe of a stocking symbolizes the generous gift of gold coins from St. Nicholas.

I don't think an apple or orange in their stocking would excite my kids, but lately I've been thinking of other fruits I wish I could get Santa to stuff in my children's stockings...

Right judgement, understanding, faith, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, long suffering, wisdom, knowledge and understanding, strength, reverence/piety, hope and optimism, prudence, discernment, fortitude/courage, justice, modesty, chastity, and, of course, love...

Now those are some precious, rare fruits...not that my kids don't already have a little of those, but you can never have too many, right?

Just like shoes.

And, here are a few others I would want Santa to squeeze in as well...discomfort, anger, tears, foolishness...

I hear you...you're wondering why in the world I would wish these for my children... especially when I know they've already had some of each. (What kind of mother am I, anyway??)

Well, here's why (from Philip Yancey's book, Prayer)...

May God bless you with discomfort,
at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships,
so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger,
at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
so that you may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless you with tears,
to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war,
so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their
pain to joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness,
to believe that you can make a difference in this world,
so that you can do what others claim cannot be done
to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor

Amen. 

 Yep, that would be the ideal stocking, stuffed and overflowing...

 

This is my contribution to One Word Wednesday (better late than never!) This week's word is Stuffed - click on the other contributions below and feel free to add your own!

 

 

 

 

Deepwater Reflections, thank you Rosa Parks, and a Wednesday Procrastination

When the sun stepped into the Hollow this morning, it found me gazing at a reflection of the surrounding autumn-dressed trees in a nearby pond. Tickled by the wind, the pond surface rippled and the reflection wavered...still unmistakably golden trees, but altered from the original by the elements. It hit me that this was a physical example of how our memories waver, touched by time. 

Last night I posted a series of photos on my photography site (here) like the one above, snapped over the weekend in my childhood neighborhood, Deepwater.

The photographs depict what is there now; but for me, even when I look at the photos, images of the past pop up like an overlay, wavering before me like the reflection on the pond. I guess that's the curse...and the blessing...of getting older.

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I also wanted to acknowledge that today is the 55th anniversary of the day Rosa Parks was just too worn out, too fed up, to play by silly rules any longer. According to the Wikipedia article I found, she wasn't the first to protest this way, but hers sparked the Montgomery Bus Boycott and major changes in how we view each other. It just took one more voice - proof that we shouldn't give up before we start, thinking it's not worth the effort, just because others have tried but failed.

Rosa also lost her job, though. Courage generally comes at a cost - that's why it takes courage to speak up or step out or fight back, because we know it's going to trigger change. We can hope for positive change, but usually at least a little bit of pain tags along.

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Also...today is Wednesday, specifically One Word Wednesday. Today's word is Stuffed, and I confess I'm still tossing that one around in my head. My One Word post might come out on Thursday this week! Stay tuned!