Long Hollow

This time last year...

About this time last year, I was on a walk of faith. I began a new career.

It coincided with dramatic and tragic turns in my parents' lives. The changes that have taken place in all of our lives since July 2013 are mindboggling when I think about them too long.

Despite his illness and circumstances, Daddy wanted to hear all about my real estate school. I'm so grateful I made that leap so I could call and report on the passing of each and every class, and finally, the state exam. 

I always hoped my daddy would see me graduate from college or publish a book before he died, because I wanted to make him proud.

Oh, I know my daddy was proud of me, just the way I was, because that's the kind of daddy he was. But I still wanted to do it for him. I felt I owed it to him for dropping out of college all those years ago.

When I told him I passed the state Realtor exam, I could hear the pride in his voice, but also confidence that I would do well. That confidence he projected on me - a belief in me - has carried me through this past year.

I've not only faced the challenge of starting my own business, but also the responsibilty of helping my mom get through her own challenges. It helps that she's closer to me; those exhausting, frequent long drives to and from Houston are behind me. 

I didn't kick ass and take names in real estate this year, but I did meet a lot of fantastic people, made new friends, felt myself stretching and growing in ways I haven't for years... plus managed to help quite a few people find new homes, which was the ultimate goal anyway.

Well, that and make some money so that my hardworking, long-suffering husband can dare to dream about retiring...one day.

My writing and photography (and yes, blogging) have been forced back on to a shelf to gather dust for awhile, but I have managed to be there for my mom, and for the most part, my kids, friends, other family, and church.

I appreciate those of you who still come around for my infrequent posts, and forgive me when I don't make the rounds for a week or two to your blogs. I had been warned that real estate was a 24/7 job, but I didn't realize that meant the to-do's really never ended, even if you stop taking calls at 7pm. 

I've gotten used to dreaming about real estate.

The perks? Quite often free food and drinks (we have to network!)... and every once in awhile, ping-pong. Great stress relief.

And I know Daddy is smiling - he taught me how to play.

 

 

It's a strange mix of heaven and hell. But I like it. Happy anniversary to me! 

I can't wait to see what the next year brings...

 

"Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it.

Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it."

~ W.H. Murray

  

They've landed! (...and other sweet!s)

For the past week or so I've been living vicariously through a couple of my kids. Again.

My son and his wife have now experienced the beauty, beer, food, art, sights and sounds of Moscow, St. Petersburg, and Amsterdam. And through the wonders of technology, I've been able to tag along through their photos and words, posted on Instagram and Facebook.

Having your kids visit the places of your dreams is the next best thing to seeing them yourself.

 

They're safe and sound, back in Austin now, although I haven't spoken to them to know that. I learned it while snooping in mom-fashion for updates on their Facebook pages tonight. 

I am so very grateful for Facebook and all of the hours of worrying it has saved me. 

Besides Facebook and kids arriving home, safe and sound, I've had a pretty sweet-filled week. Here are a few more....

 

Monday: adolescent cardinal triplets playing "King of the Mountain" on the birdfeeder; much needed rain on your hollow; staying up late, laughing over old clips of Robin Williams with your son

 

Tuesday: your client closing on her new home; sharing a private dinner at Franklin Barbecue with your son, courtesy of Google; watching the Austin Bomb Squad in action (and surviving!)

 

 

Wednesday: making the final payment on your car; reflecting on, and celebrating, the past 32 years with the love of your life

Thursday: watching your old puppy eat, without having to coax him or feed him by hand; dinner at Eddie V's with dear friends you haven't seen in a while

 

 

Friday: sitting outside on a clear night, listening to live music with friends; a glimpse of the baby fox living in your hollow

Saturday: receiving an offer on one of your listings and writing an offer for one of your buyers; watching "Sons of Katie Elder" with your mom, then later another movie with your son

Sunday: a taste of biscuits and gravy, thanks to a friend who doesn't mind sharing; helping old homes have a chance at new life; inspiration from the Garden of Eatin'

 

 

If you think hard enough, I bet you can think of some sweet! moments from your past week. Be sure to share them in the comments! 

Lucky in Love

 

 

Thirty-two years ago today, Tom and I dismissed superstition by getting married on a Friday the 13th. We were so sure of our decision, so confident of our love and our future together, that we challenged those centuries-old superstitions to a duel.

Well, of course they just turned tail and ran, because they could see for themselves what we already knew - Tom and I were meant to be together. Love trumps superstition any day.

But being meant for each other doesn't mean you can just join hands and skip into the future through a field of daisies. It's more like joining hands and jumping off a ledge together into the unknown. You have no idea what's ahead of you but you decide to take that leap together, trusting the other one to be there with you whatever happens.

It doesn't mean you're always going to like each other, much less see eye-to-eye on everything. All it means is you have someone to share your joys and your sorrows, someone that is going to love you at your worst, physically and mentally, someone that believes in you and wants the best for you, and who, with one look, can ignite a warm tingly feeling inside of you that sets your heart to beating fast and makes you smile for no apparent reason.

And you can see without being told that you have the same affect on them.

But how did we know this was IT? Now that our own kids are reaching the age we were when we got married, how do we explain it to them when they ask us how they'll know when they've found "the One"?

I've scrambled around for the words, but I realize I can't tell them how they'll know. That's something between them, God and their hearts. All I can do is pray that they'll know.

And I can repeat the Story of Us, how after just a week of seeing Tom I got a feeling inside that this relationship was more than just the two of us having fun.

For me, it was a scary feeling, not a warm bubbly one. What was going on?  I knew Tom was going to ask me to marry him, and I knew I would say yes, and that scared the hell out of me.

But once I said yes, I shooed all those tiny doubts out of my mind. They served no purpose except to block the giving and receiving going on between us. And that's why I was so sure of us that I was able to turn Friday the 13th into a day to look forward to, rather than fear. From that point forward, it has been our lucky day.

You can have many loves in your life, but there are some loves that lift you up above yourself, that make you believe in yourself and want to be a better person. The best person possible. For a marriage to work, both of you have to feel that way. It could happen when you're a teenager, but it might not happen until you're in your fifties.

But whenever it happens, both of you have to treasure that feeling, not take it for granted. Don't just show the best part of yourself to the world, and the worst to this person because you know they love you anyway. They deserve the best of you, not the worst, because they love you.

I admit that hasn't always happened with me and Tom; I'm glad we're both stubborn enough to have held on to each other over the years despite ourselves.

So I think what I would tell my kids is this: Concentrate on living your life, on being the best possible "you" you can be, on searching for and following the path that has been laid before you.

But keep your eyes and heart open, because when you least expect it, you'll realize someone else's path has connected with your own, blending with it. If they make you better than you were before, or maybe just more "you" than you were before, chances are that's the One.

At least, that's how it happened to me. But then, I got lucky.

 

Happy 32nd Anniversary, Tom!

I'm so glad that when you crossed my path, I had my eyes and my heart open.

I love you!

 

(This is a slightly edited re-post from another anniversary a few years ago, if it sounds familiar, but it's all still true!)

In Homage to Robin and El Capitan

I was 19, living alone in my first apartment, relishing the solitude and the freedom of having my own space. Many nights I sat on a second-hand loveseat watching my very own television, bought via the Sears Easy Payment Plan.

Thanks to my sister, who worked in the Sears credit department, I was building my credit, $13 at a time, each and every month.

"Mork and Mindy" was one of my favorite shows. That's how long Robin Williams has been making me laugh. So hearing that he gave in to his demons today brought me great sadness.

Years and years and years ago, I almost gave into those same demons who steal the reality of hope away. Afterward, I could see what a selfish act suicide truly is. 

When you're eighteen, it's sometimes tough to believe things can get better. When you're 63, you've already survived so much, you should know better. 

However, lest I start becoming too judgemental, I remember "There, but for the grace of God..." I remember to be grateful for the chance to see it that way. Grateful for a second chance to live and love life.

But dang it. Robin Williams.

My kids know him through Mrs. Doubtfire and Disney cartoons and Hook. He's been making them laugh their entire lives. At 63, he still had so much living and giving yet to do. 

With a heart already missing the craziness of Robin Williams in this world, I also learned this evening that a treasure of my childhood may be destroyed.

The old Capitan Theater, built in 1949, has been languishing for years, waiting for an investor to restore it to its previous glory. I remember elegant velvet loveseats, carpeted stairways, ornate murals and decorations.

I can still see a young Elvis Presley dancing on the screen ... can still hear him singing "Viva Las Vegas" straight to the five-year-old me.

But peeking through the glass front doors in recent years revealed years of neglect. It once sat in the center of town, close to the newspaper office and the post office and City Hall, but now gathers dust on the outskirts of a town that continually boards up building in favor of bigger, better, and newer, rather than trying to preserve its history. The ornate old post office was left behind years ago.

And yet I still held on to hope that someone would come along and fix up the old theater. Instead, according to a story in the local newspaper, it's been sold to a chemical company and expected to be destroyed.

However, despite what Robin Williams obviously felt in his last minutes or hours, because of my own experience I believe there's always hope as long as there's breath. It's too late for Robin, but I'm holding out hope for El Capitan. 

Holding out hope that the city realizes its history is a treasure and starts to treat it as such.

But may you rest in peace, Robin. Thank you for decades of belly-aching laughter and heart-aching movies.

Perhaps you were just afraid you'd become a dusty relic, and decided to make your exit while the neon lights still shone.

 

 

Sisters (and other sweet!s)

 

It would have been intimidating growing up with such a beautiful big sister if she had been the type to criticize or belittle.

But I was blessed with Brenda. 

 

 

Sure, she liked to tease me sometimes, and even lost her temper with me once or twice, but given that I was a brat for at least the first ten years of my life...okay, twenty... the way she treated me could qualify her for sainthood.

 

 

How many teenage girls let their baby sisters tag along on dates? (Did I mention I was a brat?) How many volunteer to go on school field trips? How many take their little sisters and her friends to the beach, or Astroworld, or on crazy fast spins through the neighborhood in their Volkwagon Bugs? (Don't tell anyone about that one!)

How many buy their family a green artificial Christmas tree and new ornaments to hang on it without being asked because their little sister ended up in the emergency room the year before with asthma triggered by a real tree?

When their parents are overwhelmed with worry and care over their recently paralyzed son, how many big sisters go overboard with gifts for their baby sister to make sure she still has a Merry Christmas?

When their nineteen-year-old sister finishes a stupidly scary book (Amityville Horror!), how many big sisters not only allow her to spend the night, but agree to sleep in the same room with her, as well, despite her husband's grumbling?

Yes, growing up with a big sister who is your best friend is one of the sweetest sweet!s ever. And since today is her birthday, I hope the coming year is jam-packed and overflowing with sweetness for her, because she has given everyone around her so much sweetness all of her life.

 

 

And here are a few more sweet!s from the past two weeks (how did I get so far behind?)...

Friday: lunch with a dear long-time friend, and then surprising your mom with a visit from her

Saturday: sleeping in, when you're exhausted; a visit with your mom and son and grandpuppy, all at the same time

Sunday: Garden of Eatin' inspiration

 

Monday: your old puppy waiting for you on the porch, stronger and eager for a morning walk; the miracle of arriving on time when you've left late and hit lots of traffic; finding just the right place for two of your clients after a long search

 

Tuesday: watching your old puppy swim again; a friend reminding you to stay positive; seeing your coach on television during her mission trip to help the children on the border; exploring east Austin with your son, including free food and drinks, courtesy of Google; learning how to be a DJ

 

Wednesday: singing along to the Cowboy and the Princess with your mom; making it to your belly-dancing class after missing two weeks; the neighbor to your lot listing helping you hammer your sign back in when some other useless being has pulled it up and tossed it onto your lot

Thursday: your old puppy's appetite returning, slowly but surely; a friend taking the time to teach your mom how to create newborn knitted caps

Friday: an offer on one of your residential listings and a call on one of your lot listings; issues with Russia calming down as your son and daughter-in-law prepare to leave for a vacation in Moscow, St. Petersburg, and Amsterdam

Saturday: negotiations; two more calls on your listings; getting together with long-time friends you've known since high school or beyond

 

Sunday: catching a young fox in your headlights; Facebook, so you can enjoy photos of your son's trip to Russia

Monday: saving a wolf spider; a closing for one of your buyers!; just the inspiration you need waiting for you in your mailbox, thanks to a dear friend

 

Tuesday: hiking around two Texas Hill Country acres with a client; Chinese food with friends and great fortune-cookie fortunes

 

Wednesday: meeting Leon at HEB who give you a free car wash because your car really needs it; finally getting the hang of some of your belly-dancing moves

 

Thursday: joining forces with other parishioners to make your church Oktoberfest a success

 

Friday: learning more about the Circuit of the Americas racetrack at a local Chamber of Commerce meeting; getting a tour of the wedding venue that happens to be your neighbor

 

 

Saturday: getting to drive your own car after two days, thanks to your husband fixing your flat tire (yes, another one!); a gorgeous sunset and then moonrise over your hollow

 

Sunday: being able to wish your sister a happy birthday, and let her know how grateful you are for her

 

 

An older sister is a friend and defender - a listener, conspirator, a counsellor and a sharer of delights.  And sorrows too. 

 ~Pam Brown

 

A Max Update

 

Earlier this week I let you know that my old puppy Max had slid downhill, health-wise. Thank you so much for all of your well wishes, both here and on Facebook. 

There is power in well-wishes. I truly believe that, especially after watching Max rally the past few days.

His rally isn't 100%. He's an old dog, after all. But he's eating again, and for five mornings in a row, he's been waiting for me on the porch at sunrise, ready for our walk. 

Monday morning, we only made it a short way down our road before he decided it was time to head back home, but that was an improvement!

The next morning, thinking it was going to be a repeat performance and we wouldn't step foot into the woods, I skipped my routine dousing in mosquito spray for the first time in months.

And so naturally Max decided we were going to take a long walk, all around our property. We went to the far side of the big pond, up the hill, back down to the little pond, where he wobbled his way across the stone dam and then went swimming.

I was ecstatic. I didn't rush him, just let him wander where he wanted (except not through the fence bordering our property, even though it was tough telling him no about something), grateful I didn't have anywhere I needed to be for a few hours.

 

 

That long walk must have worn him out; Wednesday morning was another short jaunt to the dumpsters and back. But the past two days he's ventured farther once again, checking out all his favorite places. 

I realize he still has congestive heart failure. Cataracts. Hip Dysplasia. Elbow Dysplasia. He's having a tough time controlling his bladder, like so many other older men and women.

But I know he can't stay with me forever, so I wash the blankets over and over, and keep an eye on him for any signs of real distress or discomfort. The day will come, I know, and I know what I'll need to do, and I'll do it.

Because I love him.

Until then, you'll find me heading out the door each morning just as night gives way to dawn, carrying a fragile hope in my heart that Max is waiting there for me, ready for our walk, just one more time.