Long Hollow

Four years later...

I ordered the whole Grad Pack - personalized invitations, portraits, diploma frame, cap and gown, thank you notes with return address labels - one click and it was done. So easy and overall cheaper than just buying the invitations and cap and gown. Go figure. 

(Oh, I know full well there's nothing cheap about college. I said cheaper, not cheap.)

Tassles and stoles for the College of Liberal Arts are white, did you know that?

I like that.

"...white is not a color, but the manifestation of the presence of all color - the complete energy of light. It stands for wholeness and completion. In many cultures it represents openness and truth. White has a cold quality. It can provide clarity as its energy is complete.

White has purification vibrations and can be used to clear blocks from your path.

It holds the potential to move toward every other color and this makes it a good choice for new beginnings, and development in any direction." (from http://crystal-cure.com)

White. Yeah, it fits. I like it.

Guess what color the School of Business graduates get to wear! Drab!

I'm serious! Did you know 'drab' was an actual color? I sure didn't.

I didn't bother looking up what it symbolized.

I'm glad he isn't a business major. 

(Only because of the color ... His older brother is a business/marketing graduate ... But I'm sure his stole wasn't 'drab'. Ugh.)

He picked up his robe and invitations from the Co-op last week. I'll get them from him this weekend and start addressing envelopes. I'll have to stuff my Procrastination in a box, lock it up, and shove it deep into a downstairs closet.

This is too important to put off.

He sat for his graduation portrait at 2pm this afternoon. Doesn't seem right to take it two months early,  but they say it's easier this way, hectic as graduation day can be.

I told him to imagine he had just been handed his diploma and to make sure his face reflected that feeling.

I wonder if he remembered?

More likely he was thinking of the test he had just taken, or of one (or more) tests coming up, or of his resume, or of the job applications waiting to be filled out or sent in...

I was conjuring an image of him, looking so scholarly in his robe with the pure white stole. Then the image faded into scenes of another graduation, just four years ago, on a much smaller stage in a high school gym. 

Just four years ago.

Just four years ago he was coasting to the end of high school life; academics were pretty much over, he had his acceptance letter from the University of Texas and all that was left was organizing an Eagle Scout Court of Honor.

This time, there's no coasting ... no 'for-sure's ... no time yet to sit back and rest on achievements.

But there are achievements to celebrate.

He made it through a mine-field of distractions, obstacles, the Roommate from Hell, bad teachers and advisors ... cracked the codes of online registration and financial aid, drop-add, cheap books, changing majors, off-campus housing, bus routes, graduation requirements, campus employment...

It makes my head spin when I think of it all. 

He was frustrated at times, stressed out, confused, discouraged, depressed, tired, pushed to the brink of giving up...

But he didn't. He took a deep breath and fought his way through to the end.

He finished the job.

And now here he is at the end of a journey he started four years ago... 

I have no doubt he's ready for this next one that's about to begin.

(Have I mentioned how proud I am?)

 

 

Back Home

I left my parents' house before lunchtime, fortified by a bacon and eggs breakfast a la Daddy.

(That seems odd to say "my parents" house, when it's my childhood home, the house where I can't turn around without bumping into half a dozen memories...)

It was tough to leave - I worry about my sister Brenda, recuperating from hip surgery, trying to do too much too soon on her own. I worry about my aging parents, who would do anything for their kids, including sacrificing sleep. Or a back. Or breathing.

But I have my job, deadlines, projects, bills, dogs, kids, a husband. I stayed as long as I could, but I needed to get home.

"You're the best sister ever!"

"No, you're the best sister ever!"

"Girls, don't argue!"

Brenda is gaining strength by the minute - she has always been bullheaded and determined - and I can't imagine anyone who has a titanium rod in their hip, who has moved back into their parents' home for an extended period of time, who is having to rely upon others for help with basic needs, who doesn't have insurance and who has Parkinson's disease on top of everything else... what was I saying?

Oh yeah, I can't imagine anyone else in that situation having a sweeter disposition than she does. We didn't nickname her Pollyanna for nothing.

It's a humbling experience for me, a perpetual whiner, let me tell you.

I'm grateful I had a chance to repay her at least a little for all of the sweet things she has done for me all of my life.

Brenda, will you take me to the swimming pool? To the beach? To Astroworld?

Brenda, I'm sorry for calling you so late, but I'm in the last chapter of The Amityville Horror and I'm scared. Can I spend the night with you and finish it there?

Brenda, I'm sorry for calling you at 2am, but I was cleaning my oven and cut my finger and I think I need to go to the emergency room! Will you drive the 20 miles between us and take me?

(She confessed during one of her middle-of-the-night calls to me for assistance this weekend that she's glad she was so nice to me! Heads up to all you siblings out there!)

I'm also grateful I could relieve my parents for once, after all they've done for me and my siblings. They've dealt with encephalitis, whooping cough, measles, mumps, chicken pox, dislocated hips and body casts, broken arms, broken legs, dislocated shoulders, asthma emergencies, oxygen tents, gun shot wounds, quadriplegia, knee surgeries, grandchild-care ... I'm sure I've left something out, but you get the picture...

Now I've jumped back into my own life - I had to stop by the grocery store even before coming home. I knew we were out of everything! Tomorrow it's back to my job, back to writing projects and deadlines for part-time jobs.  I have bills to pay, phone calls to make to straighten out insurance kinks of our own (giving thanks for having insurance at all!) and piles of laundry to conquer. That's as far as I've gotten on my to-do lists. That will be enough for tomorrow.

But I've taken time to catch up with Tom on his weekend adventures (they include replacing a starter on his truck and breaking a $400 part on his backhoe while trying to help a neighbor, poor guy!), give my puppies some hugs and kisses, and take a lot of pictures of peacocks! More on that one later.

I also took advantage of a long drive home to stop and, well, I didn't see any roses to smell, but I did see quite a few bluebonnets and other wildflowers to capture in my camera ... (Hope you had a wonderful weekend!)

(click on the image to make it larger)

 

 

 

Intersections and Good Rules

Every intersection in the road of life is an opportunity to make a decision.

 ~ Duke Ellington

"So you decided to leave in the morning?" Tom asked when he arrived home from work yesterday evening and I was still sitting at the computer.

"I don't know! I'm still trying to decide!"

He rolled his eyes.

I was heading to my mom's to see my sister Brenda and help my parents move furniture and whatever else needed to be done to prepare for her release from the hospital in a few days. I hoped to stay long enough to help them with the transition from hospital to home care following her hip surgery, so didn't plan to head out until this morning. More time with Tom, less traffic plus daylight driving. A no-brainer.

And then my friend Mark's brother died. Trey's memorial/celebration of life was scheduled for last night. I wanted so bad to be there for him, but realized it would be early evening before I could even get away from my house, making for a late evening arrival, possibly hitting two cities' worth of Friday night traffic jams. Tom couldn't go with me, and of course, he had concerns about me driving that late at night, worried about me getting tired.

It really wasn't practical to go.  Mark had already told me he understood if I couldn't make it.

But still...

Then my oldest son called, telling me he might stop by the house on his way into town - he and his girlfriend are running the Capital 10K on Sunday, but they would be staying in South Austin. He probably wouldn't come by ... but he might, and that's usually all this mother's heart needs to stay put, just that slim chance of laying eyes on him for a moment.

But still ... 

... Mark and Trey had been like little brothers to me. I'd take them on picnics out to the San Jacinto Monument ... I'd take Trey to the skateboard park, and while he zipped around on the concrete hills, I'd wait in my car, reading. I'd invite Mark to tag along with me to Galveston, when his older brother Chris, my boyfriend, had better things to do. 

Even after Chris and I broke up, Tom and I kept in touch with Mark and Trey. They came to our engagement party with their mom ... we took Trey camping ... Mark brought his dad to our house in Lago Vista shortly before his death. Once or twice a year I'd get phone calls from both Mark and Chris.

The last time I saw Mark and Trey was at Chris's funeral several years ago.

Since then, they had also lost their mother. She and I had remained very close - I knew she'd want me to be there for Mark now.

What to do? What to do?

And then I read it ... one of the quotes I keep taped near my computer:

If we are ever in doubt about what to do,
it is a good rule to ask ourselves what we shall wish on the morrow that we had done.

~ John Lubbock

Within an hour I was packed and on the road.

I arrived at the gathering a little before 11pm; the look on Mark's face when he saw me, and the hug he gave me, would have erased any lingering doubts. But I didn't have any once my suitcase was out - I knew if I didn't go, it would be a gnat of regret, bugging me forever.

But there's more...

The memorial/celebration was just that, a celebration of life - mostly Mark's friends and high school classmates reminiscing, laughing, and even dancing, and then meeting at I-Hop for a late night/early morning breakfast.

So it was very, very late by the time I pulled into my parents' driveway. Their empty driveway. Huh? Where could they be? A flash of guilt leftover from high school crossed my mind - surely they weren't out looking for me!

I told them I didn't know what time I'd be in ... I have my own key and Mama said she'd just leave the light on for me ... I'll be 52 in a couple of weeks, for goodness' sake!

I checked my phone, tucked deep in my purse. Sure enough, there was a voice message from my mom...

"Don't worry when you see the empty driveway - Brenda had a bad reaction to Ambien and we had to go to the hospital to calm her down. She's okay, but where are you, little girl? You should be home by now!"

Always a mom. Sigh...

I let myself in and they arrived home a few minutes later. After hugs and a quick catch-up (Brenda had called them, saying there were strange people in her room and that she had been kidnapped!), we all said goodnight.

Early this morning, my phone rang. It was Brenda...

"Barbara, I'm being held captive."

Oh, crap.

"You're just having a reaction to Ambien, Brenda. Mama and Daddy were up there last night, remember? You're okay. You're in the hospital."

"No, that's just what these people told them. I don't know where they have me. I just wanted to tell you I love you and I'm sorry it came to this. I have to go."

Click.

Oh, crap. Oh, crap.

I tried calling her back and couldn't get through.

Oh, crap.

I threw on my clothes; I wasn't even going to take the time to shower ... I needed to get up there, fast. Mama was still asleep, worn out from the night's adventure. Daddy was worried about Brenda, but didn't want to leave Mama.

Before I could leave, she called again.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think, but I'll be better when family is here." She sounded so scared, so confused.

"I'm on my way."

Thank goodness, by the time I got there she was back to herself, and laughed about how it was a good thing she didn't know the numbers to the CIA or FBI (or Jack Bauer), or she would have called and reported her kidnapping to them, too!

And I thought, yeah, and it's a good thing I came in last night so I can be here for my sister this morning, and give my mom and dad a break.

No regrets.

(Update: Brenda has been released from the hospital several days earlier than expected. Maybe they were worried the FBI would be responding to a phone call or something... Nah, not really. She was just doing really good and now she's settled in here at my parents' house. Thanks to her church, she has a wheelchair, walker and potty chair to use until she's recovered. She has prescriptions for pain medicine, a blood thinner and antibiotics .. but no more Ambien! Please keep her and my parents in your prayers!)

 

A Father, a Son, a Sunrise - my Friday Favorite Photos

Backpacking for days in the semi-wilderness of Big Bend, just Tom and Daniel ...

That's how they've spent the past several spring breaks, except for one, sharing moonlight, sunlight, water and a tent ... and engraving memories in their hearts they can share forever.

Memories like this sunrise they witnessed from a cliff, waiting in the silent pre-dawn darkness for the first moment of its arrival...

 

Memories and experiences like this are father-son glue, bonding them forever, and I'm so grateful they've spent this time together - so grateful they want to spend time together. 

(Daniel's my son for sure - he took over 600 photos so I could experience their trip vicariously. He's such a sweet kid. I'll share more later. Happy Friday!)

 

 

 

Fall into Me

This morning I planted prayer requests in my virtual world; within moments, sweet thoughts and assurance of prayer blossomed before my eyes.

I believe prayer is powerful, and I believe the prayer and good wishes that joined my own today get a lot of the credit for my sister's surgery being so successful. Full recovery is still far down the road before her, and she'll be moving pretty slow in her walker for several months to get there, so I'm asking you to please continue to pray, send good thoughts, and whatever else you can think of to help her along this next phase of the journey.

Almost every day on the news, you can find a story about how people don't know how to really connect to one another anymore, not in a personal way, because we're too busy texting or emailing or chatting on Facebook or posting on blogs...

Well, obviously, I disagree. I feel more connected to my friends, family and the world in general than ever. Many of the responses today came from people I only know in the virtual world. So what if I've never met you in person? It doesn't make our connection any less real or sincere. It's that something inside of us that matters.

 "You don't have a Soul. You are a Soul. You have a body." ~ C.S. Lewis

One friend I've met through our shared love of photography, Debbie, sent me an email assuring me she would keep all of my requests in her prayers. She also included a link to a video, a song by Sugarland that I wasn't familiar with ... a beautiful song of reassurance and hope, a reminder to everyone on my prayer list that they aren't alone in their struggle, that someone's there to help them through and hold them up.

When I hear it, I think of Christ, but it could also relate to a best friend, a parent, or even the person behind a name on Facebook, FlickR or a blog.

Thank you, Debbie!

I'm including it below in case you want to hear it, too. This is a quick, sloppy post, but I wanted to say thank you for all of your prayers and good wishes. They truly made a difference today as I waited, watching the clock, knowing Brenda was on the operating table, wondering how she was doing. And they helped as I mourned a man I still think of as a boy, and the brother he left behind. And because I believe in prayer, I know they will help lift the fog of depression from my friend's heart. 

 

Praying

Prayer weaves its way throughout my being, throughout my day ... a strong fiber holding the pieces together, supporting me, lifting me ... a light breaking the darkness, revealing blessings, allowing hope.

Today, and for the next several days, weeks, months, I'm asking for your prayer to join mine... 

• About the time most of us are eating lunch today, my sister Brenda will be in surgery for a fractured hip. She's not sure how long it's been fractured - she's been in pain for awhile, trying not to go to the doctor until her Medicare kicked in (why is there a gap between approval and coverage?) Yesterday the pain finally became too great to put off any longer.
  • Please pray for the surgeon, for quick healing, for patience (she's facing two months of immobilization!), for my parents (she'll be staying with them) and for Medicare to declare this an emergency, bump up the start date, and cover the cost of surgery. Apparently they do that sometimes. I hope this is one of those times.
• Someone near to my heart is struggling, trying to find answers and relief to bouts of depression. Please lift them up ... pray that they are able to fight and escape the dark fog that envelopes their heart and mind right now. Help them focus on the bright areas and feel the love surrounding them.
• Another person near to my heart is dying. Although I haven't seen him in years, in another, younger life of mine, his family became my second one - I consider him my little brother. Please keep him in your prayers as he faces this next journey. Also please pray for strength and peace for his older brother - he'll be losing the last surviving member of his immediate family. 
  • Just received word that he passed this morning. Please pray for the repose of his soul, and for his brother and friends.

Thank you.

 

 Unceasing prayer means to have the mind always turned to God with great love,

holding alive our hope in God,

having confidence in God whatever we're doing and whatever happens to us.

~ St. Maximus the Confessor

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

I am bringing my mustard seed of faith to prayer

just by showing up,

no matter how reluctant, ill prepared, or distracted I am in the moment.

~ Alice Camille

Weekend Arrivals

After a rowdy, adventurous beginning, Spring Break opted to slow things down with a hammock-napping final weekend. (Just a figure of speech - our hammock met its demise, with the help of Belle, last spring or so. I need to remind Tom to put that on his Craig's List, um, list.)

So we didn't actually nap in the hammock, but we did rock on the porches, play lazy ping-pong, take lots of walks with the dogs, and watch tons of movies. A perfect weekend! (I've listed all the movies we watched at the bottom, if you're interested.)

Besides Daniel and TG, look what else made an appearance in the Hollow this weekend...

Crape Myrtle buds, colorful promises...

...beautiful Blue Gilia...

...the kids' collections of porcelain, handpainted Easter Eggs, treasured gifts from my mother ...she didn't paint them, but for more than 21 years tracked down artists who would...

...and the Super Moon, like a bright orange cherry smack dab on top of this perfect weekend (more super moon photos HERE at Confessions.)

And now, the movies...

Thursday night , we watched "Zombieland" ... definitely not for weak stomachs (it's about zombies, after all) but creative and my kind of goofy-funny spoof ... which is why I can't figure out why it triggered the first nightmare I've had in years!

Friday night I snoozed through "Lord of War", a depressing Nicholas Cage movie. (He's an arms dealer, depressing enough, but I felt the end had a mixed message.)

We watched a few gems though. Have you seen "City Island" with Andy Garcia? According to IMDb it came out in 2009, but I don't remember hearing anything about it. I thought it was sweet and funny. We watched that Saturday night, then I stayed up with Daniel and TG to watch Kurt Russell battle "The Thing" (TG had never seen it.)

Okay, I confess I snoozed a little through it, too, but stayed wide awake all the way through the next feature (a triple feature night!) - "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog" with Neil Patrick Harris. (Among other things, this is what I love about my kids, how they introduce me to funny stuff I'd never know about without them!)

If you haven't yet seen Dr. Horrible - and you like creative, slightly silly stuff - you need to watch it. It's short, only about 45 minutes. In fact, it's so short, we sat through it one more time Sunday night, after watching "Time Bandits". (Dr. Horrible is much better and a third as long. No offense, Time Bandits groupies.)

 

 

Life Maps and Detours

I circled “College Degree/Career Woman” on my life map long ago. The specifics were vague, but I had faith they’d become clear along the way.

Sure enough, after high school, I stepped onto a sure-fire route: "Full Scholarship in Chemical Engineering".

The path turned bumpy right away: tough classes in subjects that didn't interest me; distracting scenery - my parents' divorce, a jealous, unfaithful boyfriend, and non-college friends on separate paths; and on top of it all, a gray depression settling like a deep fog around my heart.

I got lost that first semester. Instead of class, I'd find myself perched on the Galveston seawall, munching Cheese-Its and staring past the waves to the horizon, my thoughts as scattered as the seagulls.

But re-focused and determined the next semester, I scrambled to the top. Still fired up from A's and B's, I veered onto a shortcut to make up for lost time: a summer semester of Physics ll, Calculus ll, and Linear Algebra Computer Programming. 

Too much, too soon. I wasn't fit for the rough terrain. Frustration and doubts chipped my protective wall, and the fog returned.

I gave up. Dropped out. Got a job as a welder's helper and my own apartment. I thought being alone was the answer; I thought all I needed was a bit of space to sort things out. I thought I could go back to school on my own, dependent on no one but myself. Forge a different path.

Thirty years down that detour, here’s what I’ve learned:

• Being alone is great, even necessary at times, but having family nearby is better.
• Education is worth more than the cost of tuition.
• Never take a gift for granted.
• When depression casts its pall on your world…
  • Play the opposite game: step out of yourself and do something for someone else.
  • if you feel like hiding in a dark room, take a walk in the sunshine. 
  • If you feel like being alone, gather people around you.
  •  If you feel like frowning, smile.
  •  If the hill ahead of you seems too big, just concentrate on moving forward; celebrate the small victories. Better yet, get someone to help you climb.
  •  If the songs you're listening to, the news or stories you're reading, or the people surrounding you are pulling you down, take a break from them and fill your world with inspiring, uplifting music, stories, and people. There are plenty to be found - they're just hard to see in the fog.
  • Appreciate the good things inside of you, but recognize the bad, and don't accept them. Think of the person you want to be, the kind of person you admire. Become that person. It won't happen overnight, but it's a good path to start on.
  • Eat right, exercise, get enough sleep. Miracle cures right there, for so many different problems, and at the very least, great ammunition to battle others.
  • Pray, pray, pray.

My detour took me into some dark, scary places, but it evolved into a wonderful journey, filled with love - my husband, children, family, friends. But I regret the detour, regret that I gave up, gave in, so easily. I regret time wasted, opportunities missed.

My regrets propel me forward, keeping me moving, determined to reach the end of the detour. That life map is faded, but the circle is still there, and the specifics are getting clearer. Stay tuned.

 This was my contribution to Red Writing Hood's prompt "Detour". Click HERE to read other contributions.

 

 

Blue Doors and Old Books - my Friday Favorite Photos

I've been unplugged most of today, spending time with my weary travelers, enjoying Daniel's photos from Big Bend and soaking up the sunshine. (I'll post a few of his photos later - he got some great ones!)

Now Tom's not-so-patiently waiting for me to watch a movie, so I promised this would be a quick post. But I have to share my favorite photo from this past week, a blue door that leads into a beautiful chapel in Salado, Texas.

(For more photos of Salado and the chapel, click HERE.)

And guess what? This image of old books that I posted last week made Explore on FlickR. That really caught me by surprise - I snapped these in a hurry at Daniel's apartment, and then just had some fun playing with different treatments.

I believe its popularity had more to do with the books than the photo, proving books are still beloved. And that makes me very happy.

(But having it hit Explore made me happy, too!)

 

 

Weary Travelers - Weary Mom (and Happy St. Patrick's Day!)

I've been home alone for the past few days, holding down the fort, while the rest of my bunch have been out having Spring Break fun.

I didn't begrudge them heading out for fun and adventure while I had to work - I take an annual Fall Break, an escape to the coast with girlfriends. And besides, I looked forward to a few days with the house all to myself. I always have illusions of unlimited time when I'm left alone ... time to conquer huge projects around here, relax on the front porch, go for long, leisurely walks with my "sweet" puppies.

I'll get all of those lists organized, fill up my photo albums, scan all of my mom's photos, finish drafts 1 AND 2 of my book, print out three years worth of photos, transfer VHS tapes to DVD, clean out the storage room, sell a bunch of crap on Craig's List, sort through file cabinets, desks, drawers...

You get the idea. For some reason, I think it's these people I live with that keep me from accomplishing all of this, but every time they leave me alone, I remember... it's that work versus free time thing.

And instead of more free time, I had less, because Tom wasn't here cooking dinner for me or feeding the dogs at night or unloading the dishwasher. I still had a full day's work, my writing, all of my chores, plus his. 

Man, I missed him.

And then there were the gypsy dogs...

Dang dogs.

But my weary travelers have found their way back home, grungy and stinky from wonderful adventures.

Tom and Daniel went backpacking in Big Bend (they saw a cougar!) and TG joined friends for a few days on the Alabama coast...

...while I tracked down mischievous, misbehaving gypsy dogs.

Oh, I know. I can't really complain. For the second weekend in a row, I spent time with good friends, went shopping in Salado and topped it all off with a night of dancing.

Last weekend it was with Rae and my high school friends (Deer Park Divas.) This weekend my friend Nancy came to stay for two nights. She was my first friend in Lago, and one of those who fits so right with you that they become more than friends ... so much so that when she had to move just a few years later, we stayed close anyway... despite our difference of opinion on school sports.

Friday evening was just playing catch-up over pinot noir and veggie quesadillas. Saturday was a road trip to Salado. Nancy's currently a middle school theater teacher (she has taught everything!) and was on a quest for props. We hit a few wonderful gift shops, but nothing within our budget. We kept searching and finally, on the highway, we hit gold: a flea market! She and I both walked away with treasure.

Hers was for her play; mine... well, I wasn't sure what I'd do with this vintage overnight case at first, but that didn't stop me. Now I've decided I'll use it on my desk... somehow. I'm sure it'll be great ... for something...

I snatched up this souvenir plate for two reasons: first, I collect vintage Texas souvenir plates; second, my grandmother grew up in Mexia (she pronounced it "Ma-hair".) So of course I couldn't pass up this gem. It'll just hang on a wall somewhere. I don't even try to fool myself that it can be useful in any way.

After our junking expedition, we cleaned ourselves up and headed back out to a 60th birthday party for our friend Cheryl's husband. I don't have a photo of Brian, but I do have this one of Cheryl, Mary Kay, me, Conni and Nancy .

Nancy and I skipped out early to meet our friend Rachel for a night of dancing - back to Graham Central Station where I celebrated my 50th birthday almost two years ago by dancing in a cage.

Of course, I made a bee-line for those cages and pulled Nancy and Rachel up with me. They're not 50 yet, but they're old enough.

So I can't really complain about my family abandoning me. I think I've packed enough fun into the past two weekends to qualify for one Spring Break.

No wonder I'm so tired...

Oh, before I forget...

An Irish Prayer

May God give you...
For every storm, a rainbow,
For every tear, a smile,
For every care, a promise,
And a blessing in each trial.
For every problem life sends,
A faithful friend to share,
For every sigh, a sweet song,
And an answer for each prayer. 

 

 

Gypsy Dogs

Gypsy dogs love an open road ... a new scent ... an empty field with tall grass.

Gypsy dogs love adventure.

They don't care that you took a day off work to lay electric wire around a perimeter to keep them in, to keep them safe, or that you worry about them and miss them when they disappear.

They don't let sore elbows, weak hips or even electric shocks on their necks keep them from new discoveries just beyond the horizon or at least beyond that electric wire you buried.

They're free spirits. Wanderers. Gypsies.

Dang dogs. Back to the drawing board, I guess.

Maybe a dog run between the trees...

I wrote this last night - I'm happy to report that, as far as I know, Belle and Max stuck close to home today, as good guard dogs should, and earned the big bucks we pay them.

(We don't actually pay them. It just sounded good.)

I say "as far as I know" because I don't really trust them, and suspect they snuck away farther than they were supposed to, but somehow they were there every time I checked today, or at least within calling distance.

Except one time.

But then they showed back up. Eventually.

Fingers crossed for tomorrow. I might have dogs in the laundry room.

I wonder if they iron?

 

In Silence

I stepped out this morning to a world washed by a silent rain. It surprised me, seeing the puddles on the porch and the drops glistening in the trees. I hadn't expected it to rain last night, didn't hear it tapping on our metal roof.

How much more surprised the people of Japan must have been when the earthquake shook their world and the tsunami silently followed...

Images from a video posted on Facebook that reveals the incredible power of the tsunami keep flashing in my mind. Click on the link HERE - it lasts about 6 minutes, but be sure to watch it until the very end. (I hope you can see it. You might need to be signed into Facebook.)

The man who posted it lives in Japan and has started a Facebook page where he continues to post information. Click HERE to see his page. 

Huffington Post published an article listing ways to help the victims (click HERE) and Austin's own SXSW created a website in collaboration with the American Red Cross. Click HERE to check it out. (SXSW, or South by Southwest, is a music, film, interactive festival going on here right now.)

If nothing else, please join me in continuing to pray for the country of Japan and all of its people. 

 

By Rizzy

TG and I spent a morning together last week running errands. (It's kind of weird how even errands can be fun now, if my kids are with me. It sure didn't feel that way very often when they were small... )

We took time for a quick lunch, then had one more stop to make near campus before I dropped her off and headed back home.

A man sat outside the door of the store, handing out slips of paper. I took the one he offered me, said thank you, and flashed a perfunctory smile. Colorful characters like that are common in the area, dotting the sidewalks and streets, and it's not unusual for them to be passing out flyers or tracts, promoting concerts, products or ideologies.  

Believing it held nothing to interest me, I tucked the paper in my purse without a single glance; my mind was on my daughter and the afternoon ahead of me, and I forgot about it.

As we left the store, the man offered another slip of paper. No thanks, we already have one, I told him, with another one of those polite "thanks, but I'm not interested" smiles.

That night, digging through my purse, I came across the paper and read these words.

HIGHER

Eagle flies

Open skies

Pale moonlight

Taking flight

Overseas

Feel the breeze

Colors fade

Life is made

Spread my wings

Spirit sings

Love has come

Nothing undone

All is seen

Love's wind I lean

Take me higher

Burdens lighter

Above the clouds

Your love shrouds

In Your peace

Is sweet release

Your child takes flight

In Truth is light

Your beauty gleams

Give me strength to fulfill my dreams.

 

Ah, man. This is what he was passing out? I had carried this treasure around with me all day without even looking at it, and I had passed up the chance for more, or to ask the zillion questions now popping up in my mind, like "are you Rizzy?", or to even say thank you and really mean it?

The poem is full of inspiration for me, just the kinds of words I need right now ... so I'll go ahead and say it, late as it is ...

Thank you, Rizzy. 

 

 

 

 

Drops of Light in the Darkness

Wildflowers are waking up, dotting the caliche roadside. Mostly yellow for now, although Tom said he spotted some small blue ones. (He cheats - he has bifocals and can wear his glasses all the time.)

So yesterday morning I switched camera lenses and turned my attention from the treetops, where I'd been searching for birds, hoping for at least one sharp, close-up portrait, to the ground, searching instead for those splashes of color. Flowers are model subjects, remaining perfectly posed, unless the wind feels mischievous, unlike those birds who taunt me with their song, but refuse to show themselves, or fly at the first lift of my lens in their direction. 

To my surprise, I found quite a few baby blooms of different types yawning and stretching out their petals that I swear weren't there just a few days ago. It's as if an alarm clock rang, and they all arose at once.

And that's why I chose this one for my Friday Favorite... a drop of light against the lingering grays and browns of winter.

I'm dedicating it to the people of Japan, who are suffering the effects of this morning's earthquake and tsunami and mourning loved ones, as a reminder of the light that can conquer darkness, that can survive the cold clutches of winter. I pray for the souls of the deceased and for peace in the hearts of the survivors. I pray they find light in this darkness. 

"When tough things happen, God is not an accomplice; He’s a companion."

~ Gregory Boyle 

Mom, first and foremost

Tommy's cough was back, worse than before, poor baby.

No preschool for him tomorrow; that meant one of us would have to stay home with him, give him nebulizer treatments every four hours. Probably take him back to the doctor. I hoped he wouldn't need another round of Prednisone.

"I took off work last time," Tom reminded me. True. And he was just months into a new job after finally graduating from college. 

I, on the other hand, had three weeks of vacation to use for the year, my reward for working twelve hour shifts through two and a half pregnancies while Tom earned his degree. We wouldn't be going anywhere for vacation this year because Tom, as a newbie, only had one week coming to him, and I was due to deliver smack dab in the middle of July. 

I dialed my supervisor's number, then cradled the phone between my shoulder and ear while adding medicine to the nebulizer's plastic cup. "David, I need a day of emergency vacation tomorrow. Tommy's sick again."

Tommy coughed and coughed from the living room, waiting for me. I knew it would be a long night, waking every four hours, perhaps even every two to give him the treatments if he didn't respond to it. 

"Um, I've been instructed to tell you that you can't take anymore emergency vacation days."

"What? By who?"

"Sam."

Sam. David's boss. That bastard! Just a few weeks ago he was telling me about his son's battle with asthma. His son was Tommy's age. He, of all people, should understand. 

There had been cutbacks lately and forced overtime, and now they were worried about manpower and coverage. But Sam was just a male chauvinist control freak bastard, anyway.

And my baby was sick. And geez, tomorrow was Friday! I just needed off one day. Tom could take over Saturday.

I felt my heart beating faster, my face flushing. 

"I'm sorry, Barbara. I don't have a choice."

"I know, David. I don't blame you. But I am taking off tomorrow."

I hung up and immediately dialed the plant's main number, punching the numbers hard and fast. "Dave Loveday, please." The plant supervisor. Head honcho. I wasn't messing around anymore - my baby depended on me.  

A few clicks and then, "Dave Loveday here." 

"Hi Dave. It's Barbara." I poured out my conversation with David to him, shared with him how sick Tommy had been the past few months, how he was struggling to breathe now, how worried I was about him. "You know, I earned those three weeks of vacation and we have an emergency vacation policy in place for situations such as this. If the plant is short-handed, that's someone else's responsibility, not mine. I have done my job out there, but being a mother is my most important job. So right now I'm thinking I need to either call a lawyer or a psychiatrist. Which do you think, Dave?"

"Oh, Barbara, you just stay home and take care of that baby! Don't you worry about a thing out here!"

"Thanks, Dave." Damn right.

 

This is my contribution to The Red Dress Club's RememeRed. This week's assignment was, when meeting someone for the first time, describe a scene from your life that would help show the person your true self. It was tough trying to think of something I haven't already written about (I'm not even sure I haven't written about this before!) and I am barely slipping this one in under the deadline. Click on the image above to see the other contributions.

 

 

Ashes to ashes...

...dust to dust. Tonight I'll be reminded of my mortality ... of the swiftness of life ... of my transgressions.

No need to remind me of my mortality. Lately, I'll be going about my business and then suddenly I have this impression, or perhaps you could even call it a vision, of my life in relation to the past and the future, and I see so clearly that it's just a blink of eternity's eye. If even that.

I think of all who have gone before me, and those who will come after.

I wonder about my life, if it's made any kind of difference in this world at all. I see that all this stuff we've accumulated and worried about really doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things.

And I do all of that reflecting in one breath, one heartbeat.

In the next, I vow (once again) to make each moment I'm given matter. To not take a single one for granted. I figure that way, I might fall short of the goal, but I'll be closer than if I didn't shoot big.

I'm keeping my stuff, though. Or at least most of it.

Sometimes I wish I didn't think so much.

A reminder of my transgressions ... now, that's probably necessary, and more often than once a year. It ties in with my vow of making each moment matter, of trying to make a difference in this world.

I came across this quote today and I think it's appropriate for the Lenten season. Well, anytime, but now is a good time to start. And of course, I believe it applies to everyone, not just Christians, don't you? Where it says "Christian", just insert "Peaceful"...

If we truly wish to be Christians,

we must love peace,

we must make our own the cause of peace,

we must meditate on the real meaning of peace,

we must conform our minds to the thought of peace.

~Pope Paul VI
Italian pontiff, 20th century

Peace be with you.

 

Fame is the Scentless Sunflower...

While I sit here typing away on my computer, throngs of people are converging on city streets (including Austin's) eating, drinking, and getting all of that rowdy, overindulgent behavior out of their systems, because tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, and for the next 6 weeks they'll be pure as hermit monks...  

(Do I detect some cynicism out there? Shame on you!)

I'm not out there in Fat Tuesday revelry because I pretty much celebrated Fat Tuesday all weekend long! It started Thursday night with the arrival of my sweet, longtime friend, Rae. Longtime, as in "since 5th grade"!

She surprised me with this plate, because that's the way she is...

 "...fame is the scentless sunflower...but friendship is the breathing rose..." I just love that!

(By the way... happy birthday, Oliver Wendell Holmes!)

Tom fixed us his famous hot wings, and then we sat on the back porch listening to music, petting puppies, sipping red wine and playing catch-up until the chill chased us in.

The next day I took her on a long tour of the Hollow, up and down the hills, along the creek bed, everywhere! Then we headed up the highway for lunch and a few hours of shopping in Salado before coming back to the house, spiffying ourselves up, grabbing Tom and meeting other friends for more wonderful food (and more wonderful wine) at Steiner Ranch Steakhouse, one of our favorite hangouts (especially on these gorgeous spring nights!)

One of my favorite singer/songwriters, Drew Womack, serenaded us, and then Tom and I lingered longer than the rest to listen and dance. (Rae house-hopped to our friend Darla's. We share, as good friends do.)

Eight representatives of DPHS Class of '77, and one beautiful daughter.

Drew Womack, singer/songwriter

The next morning my eyes popped open too early, mind racing, filled with all I needed to do before hitting the highway for a quick trip to my parents' house near Houston. Tom had to stay home to tend to our gypsy-dogs, but Daniel tagged along, and I enjoyed having that time with him on the road.

We barely had twenty-four hours with my parents, but it was fun, feeding the squirrels peanuts, snapping photos of the birds on the feeder, watching the kids in an adjoining backyard tumble about on their trampoline. My sister came by for a good visit, and my brother and niece dropped in after work to help us move my grandmother's piano from the livingroom back into her room - a pretty major ordeal, but we did it! Mama's happy. And she promised not to worry about imposing on us when there's something they need help with. (Did I ever explain that she just wanted the piano out of the livingroom, not necessarily gone, but she didn't want to "impose" on us? sigh...)

The next morning, Daddy, aka "The Breakfast King", fixed us bacon and eggs!

Between that and the pizza we had for dinner the night before, Daniel and I decided we better take at least a short walk through the neighborhood before sitting for hours in the car ... again.

Well, Daniel mostly rode his long board... and I mostly snapped photos...

After our walk, we enjoyed yet another huge meal - Mexican food with Mama and Daddy -  and then boom! it was time to hit the road back to Austin.

But not until I grabbed some more photos, of course. You can never have too many photos of your kids or your mom and dad, you know.

And that was my Fat Tuesday weekend. Perhaps you can understand why part of my focus during this Lent is to get back on track taking care of myself - I tend to go overboard way too often. 

I'll touch on Lent a little more tomorrow - but tonight I need to hit the Publish button on this and go to bed. (Getting enough sleep is going to be another Lenten focus ... starting tomorrow.)

Are you doing anything special for Lent? Giving anything up? Adding anything to your routine? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Books (and People?) of a Certain Age

Old books are precious treasure for me, no matter what the subject.  

Art within and without. 

A window where I can peer straight into history.  

 

My son recently took possession of these. 

He feels the same as I do about books. 

Even  old books. 

I can see it in his eyes.

And I can't describe how relieved, 

how happy, 

that makes me.

"Book-love, I say again, lasts throughout life, it never flags or fails, but, like Beauty itself, is a joy forever." The Anatomy of Bibliomana Vol.II - Holbrook Jackson

 

(But how could anyone not think these are treasure?

Take a look at these covers!)

"I cannot live without books." In a letter to John Adams - Thomas Jefferson

 Old books prove to me that with age come words like...

Unique

Individuality

Character

...which is a huge relief to me as I approach another birthday...

"The body of Benjamin Franklin
Printer,
Like the covering
Of an old book
Its contents torn out
And stript of its lettering
And gilding
Lies here, food for worms;
But the work
Shall not be lost,
It will (as he believed)
Appear once more,
In a new
And more beautiful edition,
Corrected and amended
By the author."
Epitaph for Benjamin Franklin 

 This is my contribution to the Focus 52 Creativity Project at Jan's twoscoopz. Check out the rest on the topic of "Aged" HERE.

 

 

 

 

March Winds and Loose Ends

The March wind is up early this morning, rushing through the Hollow, as if it were cleaning house, preparing for April. 

And I feel like I'm a leaf caught up in the wind, spinning this way and that.

I'm not complaining. I'm just having a tough time finding the ground again. I'm feeling dizzy from the spin. So much is going on, so many undone things on my list (so many lists!), so much just under the surface on the verge of breaking out, announcing a new season.

I guess in a way, I'm trying to be like the March wind, busy, busy, busy, trying to sweep and clean up the old leaves, and yet keep everything else moving along.

Other people have much more on their plates than I do and seem to accomplish so much more without getting overwhelmed. I'm beginning to realize I have a pretty small plate. I'm just having a tough time accepting that fact.

So anyway ... here I am on a Saturday morning with a long drive ahead of me, and what happens? My eyes pop open after just a few hours of sleep, my brain clicks on, and I had no choice (after an hour like that) but to get up and get moving.

I spent a wonderful day yesterday with a friend, away from computers and lists, and capped it off by joining more friends for dinner outside at Steiner Ranch Steakhouse, dancing and listening to the music of Drew Womack. Usually a day like that will affect me like a deep breath, a relaxing sigh, but as wonderful as it was, this time that relaxed feeling didn't last very long. My brain keeps zooming to places in the future or dwelling on other issues I have no control over, or just focusing too much on those damn lists that keep growing longer instead of shorter.

I'm trying to take all of my own advice about letting go, focusing on the moment, counting my blessings ... and it does help. For a bit.

I know I'm not the only one feeling whisked too fast by this March wind - I glanced at Facebook this morning and saw this post by a friend ... a reminder of how to find shelter from the wind (thanks, Doug!) ...

For a moment I felt overwhelmed! Another weekend. Kids with MANY places to go. Soccer game, track, church event, back to High School, back to church event, Sunday Church, meeting friends, worrying... I felt a touch that gently reminded me just how blessed I am to be busy, with a wonderful family! Thanks Lord!

As I step back into this day, I'll do my best to stay on the ground, stay in the moment, and not allow the winds to sweep me completely away.

Some good news about Max and Belle, though - they've either stopped their wandering ways (or learned to be more sneaky about it.) Miss Ginger hasn't called in three days now!

I'm so glad because I do love those goofy dogs!

Hope you have a wonderful weekend - don't let the March winds sweep you away!

God Bless Texas!

‎''You may all go to Hell, and I will go to Texas''

~Davy Crockett

If you don't live in Texas, you might not realize that today is Texas Independence Day. On this date 175 years ago, Texas officially declared its independence from Mexico and became the Republic of Texas. An independent nation.

Ours is the only state of the United States that has even been a nation. How cool is that?

"Texas is a state of mind. Texas is an obsession.

Above all, Texas is a nation in every sense of the word."

~John Steinbeck, Author 

Yes, we are obsessed with ourselves, but I think we have a right to be. Face it - we're unique! We may not be the biggest state anymore, but we're still pretty damn big. (I know from experience! I've driven to El Paso and to Brownsville and to Amarillo!) 

We have the Gulf coast, the piney woods, the hill country, the desert, the plains, the Guadalupe and Davis mountains... 

The thing is, you can't judge Texas from any one area. We are the sum total of our parts.

And our history.

Ah, Texas history. I could get lost in you!

~ me

(In fact, I often do, especially when I'm working on my great-great-grandfather's story... )

My roots dig deep into Texas history. According to a book by the Daughters of the Republic of Texas, my multi-great grandpa, Jacob Reed, was part of the Austin Colony (as in Stephen F.Austin! Yes, I'm name-dropping!) He received a Spanish Land Grant, taking an oath in May of 1831, along with his wife, Matilda Gage Reed. 

My Baggett branch arrived in 1841 and stayed, becoming judges and successful businessmen.  I had several successful, land-owning relatives, but unfortunately, I'm always related to the youngest female of just about every branch, and they didn't inherit squat except the status of "Texan".

But I'm happy with that.

My Clary branch couldn't make up their minds, buying land early on in the Republic days but going back and forth between Texas and Arkansas. Or was it Alabama...

Whichever it was, they got smart and finally settled in Texas. Or at least my branch did.

Are you bored yet? Sorry, the genealogy addict in me started rearing its head. After writing just this little bit, I have somehow accumulated five 3-ring notebooks filled with tedious family history details stacked beside me.

I was getting lost in history again...

Now, believe me, I have nothing against other states. I've traveled to almost all of them and found beauty and interesting history in each one. And each branch of my family originated in some other state (except for the Rantzes, who came over from Germany in the 1840's and landed at Indianola... oops, there I go again. Sorry!)

Anyway, let's just end this by saying I am damn proud of being a multi-generational Texan.

Happy 175th birthday, Texas! And many more!

"I think Texans have more fun than the rest of the world."

~Choreographer Tommy Tune

"I am forced to conclude that God made Texas on his day off, for pure entertainment, just to prove that all that diversity could be crammed into one section of earth by a really top hand." 

- Author Mary Lasswell

"If you've ever driven across Texas, you know how different one area of the 
state can be from another. Take El Paso. It looks as much like Dallas as I look 
like Jack Nicklaus." 

- Pro Golfer Lee Trevino

"Texas is neither southern nor western. Texas is Texas." 

- Senator William Blakley

"I have moved over a great part of Texas  and I know that within its borders
I have seen just about as many kinds of country, contour, climate and conformation
as there are in the world."

 - Author John Steinbeck

"In the covered wagon days, if a baby was born in Texarkana while the family was
crossing into the Lone Star State, by the time they reached El Paso, the baby would 
be in the third grade."

- Texas Author Wallace O Chariton 

"Some folks look at me and see a certain swagger, which in Texas is called walking."

~George W. Bush

 

Not again! Dang dogs (and birds!) and "Johnny Baby" revisited

I knew it. I could see it on their faces yesterday when we tried to get them into the van. 

Yep, it's true. They love Ginger more than me.

Or at least Ginger's yard. Or dogs. Or driveway.

Something up there is irresistible to my dogs - worth the trek through the valley and up the hill.

Maybe Max is in love?

At any rate, Ginger called this afternoon to let me know my dogs were hanging out at her house again.

(How embarrassing! I feel so rejected!) 

I had to take off work and head back up there in the old mini-van (the only vehicle we have they'll both fit into. I'm glad we haven't sold it yet. I'd hate to have to squeeze them into my Elantra!)

I let Max know my cut in pay this week was coming out of his allowance. No more expensive joint-therapy food and supplements for him, if this is the thanks I get!

(Not really. Totally empty threat. But don't tell him that.)

Once we were back on our dirt road, within a hundred yards of our house, I made them get out and walk. I'm not sure what that taught them, but it made me feel better for some reason. (I used to do that with the kids when they were younger and fighting or just being rowdy and not listening in the van - once we were on the dirt road, out they'd go! hehehe)

My point with the dogs was, I didn't want them to think they could walk up there to Ginger's, have a good time, and then expect a cushy ride home from me. Oh, no! You only get a cushy ride for the dangerous sections, and then, out you go! Take that and don't forget it!

Dang dogs.

So guess what we did with them this afternoon?

Yeah, that's right. We took them for a long walk. It was a gorgeous afternoon - how could we not take them for a walk?

Dang dogs.

Now Tom has some work ahead of him. Either string up one of those electric fences in a small area and put one of those shock collars on Belle (I worry about putting one on Max with his heart issues) or build two runs in the woods. They'd have to be sturdy for these two dogs, anchored in concrete a mile deep! And do they even make harnesses large enough for Max?

Dang dogs. Like we don't have enough projects around here...

While Tom's working on that, I'm going to be busy stalking birds.

Spring is moving into the Hollow even as we speak, and the birds are all atwitter about it. But they're all atwitter from a distance, and they're irritatingly camera shy. Even when they're fifty yards away and up in the tops of the willows - so far away I know whatever shot I take isn't going to be clear and sharp but I want to try anyway - at the first movement of my camera, SWOOSH, they're off in beautiful synchronized flight. 

I think they're taunting me.

But the game is on. The stakes have risen higher, because Jillsy has a new challenge this month - bird photography. And she has sweetened the deal by promising "a little something" from her - most likely some of her beautiful cards.

And that's why I'll be stalking birds while Tom figures out how to corral our adventurous puppies.

If you want to play along on "Tweets Around the World", click the image below for the details. I'm also posting it in my sidebar for future reference (so I can see how I'm doing!) and adding the blog hop Linky to the bottom of this post.

 

While I'm rambling, I need to give a shout-out Happy Birthday to my youngest brother-in-law, John. His birthday was actually last week, but that's how it is these days, behind on everything. (Tom just made his happy birthday call. We are birds of a procrastinating feather, that's for sure...)

So happy birthday, John! (Click HERE to see my really good "Happy Birthday, John" post from last year. He's an amazing guy, a Phoenix policeman who coaxed a confession out of a murderer, so if you missed it last year, you really should read it. I used to be so good at these things...)

Max and Belle's "Awesome" Adventure

Max, curled up in his huge porch bed, stared out into the nearby woods. Belle lay nearby, stretched out in the dirt, gnawing on a piece of Dad's firewood. 

Beyond her, Max spotted a squirrel sneaking closer and closer, determined to scavenge a bit of bird seed from the ground under the feeder. He'd done his fair share of squirrel-chasing, but today it just didn't sound like fun.

Max sighed. It was a perfect day - the sun was shining, there was a light breeze blowing - what a waste to spend another afternoon dozing on the porch. 

His elbow didn't ache so bad anymore. His hip bothered him a little, but he wasn't ready to just give in to old age.

And by golly, he wasn't going to! Scrambling up, he headed into the woods.

"Let's go exploring," he told Belle.

She looked up at him, tilting her head. "Huh?"

"Come on! Follow me."

And off they went. Not in the same old direction Mom and Dad always took them, but a new and different direction - off into the unknown, Max leading the way with only a slight limp, and Belle, grinning, trotting along close behind.

Before too long, their noses took over, as one new scent after another popped up to be explored. They zig-zagged their way through a valley and up a hill, and there they found the most amazing place ... a yard full of something soft and cool ... like water, only not wet. There weren't any rocks or sharp, pointed plants or burs or anything, just this soft, cool, fluffy stuff.

A woman stepped outside of the big house and spoke softly to them, petted them. She didn't shoo them away, but invited them into a special gated place where other dogs were playing. Friendly dogs.

That was fun for awhile, but the lush lawn out front called to Max, inviting him to stretch out and soothe his aching muscles. (That had been a long walk and tough climb from the Hollow!) He and Belle found a way to escape the gated area, but instead of heading back home,  they lolled the afternoon away in suburban luxury.

Time seemed to stand still. Neither of them noticed the sun dropping lower in the sky. It was only when the red minivan pulled into the driveway and the woman stepped out and hollered their names that they thought, "Oh, crap! We're in trouble now!"

The ride home, crowded into the minivan with angry parents, wasn't nearly as much fun as the hike up to heaven ...

 

The end. 

P.S. Max and Belle are grounded for two weeks and we're re-thinking Max's aspirin therapy. Apparently, it works too well...

P.S.S. We're not really re-thinking it. We're not cruel. Just mad. Dang dogs. And they aren't really grounded. (How do you ground a dog?) We went for our normal walk this morning. I think Max is limping a little bit more, but he tried hard not to show it.

Dang dogs.